Never Good Enough
by, T.C. Healy
Part Four
Angel raced to Celinda’s apartment. His mind was still reeling from his encounter with the Triad. If they knew about Naomi, why didn’t they do anything to stop this? Why let him run around LA on a wild goose chase, looking for the wrong person? And how did they know he was going to visit them in the first place?
So many questions...very few answers. But only one question stood out in his mind...
Will he get to Charlie in time?
As Angel approached the apartment, something in the back of his mind, put him on alert. He reached out to knock on the door, and watched it open slowly. No one in LA would ever leave their door ajar, especially at night. But this one was. Which meant only one thing...
“Frank?!” he shouted, after seeing the thin demon stagger to his feet. Feeling no barrier, he quickly entered the apartment to come to his aid, “Are you all right? What happened?”
Frank allowed Angel to help him to the couch, and painfully touched the growing lump on the side of his head, “This nut came in and beat the hell out of me,” he stopped and looked around the room, “Charlie? Charlie?!”
“Easy,” Angel gently pushed him back down, “Do you remember who hit you?”
“I have to find my son,” Frank moaned, holding his head, “I have to find him. Before...”
“Hold on,” Angel insisted, “Listen to me. I need to know who came in and attacked you. Because if it is who I think it is, then I know where your son might be.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name’s Angel-”
Frank’s head shot up, and a look of rage filled his eyes, “You’re that...that...P.I. who’s been harassing Celinda! She told me about you and that Englishman...” Frank rolled his eyes, and shook his head, “Oh man! That was the guy who hit me! That skinny English guy! He took my boy?! So what are you doing here?! You’re here to gloat?!”
“No,” Angel insisted, trying to calm down the frantic demon, “It’s nothing like that.”
“Really?!” Frank spat, pushing his arm away violently, “You work for my ex-wife! She hired you to kidnap Charlie! And now he’s gone! What am I supposed to think?!”
Angel sat down on the couch next to the distraught demon, “You’re right,” he looked miserably at him, “Naomi did hire us. But we had no idea she was trying to kidnap her own son. We were under the mistaken impression that it was you who kidnapped Charlie. It wasn’t until I met with the Triad that I learned the truth.”
Frank paused for several moments, processing everything that has just transpired, “You said you know where Charlie is?”
Angel got to his feet, “Yeah,” he nodded, “And we may not have much time. If Wesley took Charlie, he would have brought him to my office. I’ve been trying to reach them there, but no one’s answering. Then again, this damn cell phone hasn’t worked right since I got it.”
Frank stood up and straightened himself up, “Well, this is my son...I’m coming with you.”
****** Cordelia groaned and slowly sat up. Her head pounded, and her lip was sore. “Great,” she muttered miserably, “I’m probably going to have a fat lip. They don’t tell you about this in the detective magazines.” She stopped and looked around. The office was trashed, and Charlie was gone. Which meant that Wesley...
“Wesley!” she shouted at the still form, lying on the floor by the door. When he didn’t move, she crawled over to him, still unsure of her balance, “Wesley, wake up!” Remembering her success in reviving Giles, she proceeded in slapping him hard in the cheek. That elicited a soft moan. “Wes, come on...wake up!” she said again, slapping him once more.
Wesley slowly opened his eyes and squinted at her, “Cordelia, I was having a wonderful dream, and...why are you hitting me?”
“You were out cold,” Cordelia helped him to sit, “It worked for Giles. So I figured, why not?”
“Mainly because I already have a splitting head ache, and you are only compounding the situation,” he paused and blinked, “Charlie’s gone, isn’t he?”
“I didn’t see him,” she answered.
“Dammit,” he cursed, “That means that Naomi has him!”
“And it’s your fault!” Frank growled, as he and Angel entered the office.
“Frank, please,” Angel gently urged, before addressing his co-workers, “Are you two okay?”
“Besides the fact that I made a mess of this?” Wesley sighed, rubbing his aching temples, “We’re just wonderful!”
“Wes,” Angel tried to soothe the young man, “She had us all fooled.”
“No,” he shook his head, “I should have known. How could I have been so blinded?! I should have recognized the show she put on! It’s all my fault!”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND 1986*
“It’s my fault,” Mi Ling grumbled, helping Richard to his feet, “I shouldn’t have swung so hard.”
“Don’t be silly, my dear,” Richard smiled, brushing himself off, “You did nothing wrong. In fact,” he gave his son a smug glance, before returning to her, “I’m very proud of you. You’re training is coming along quite nicely.”
“Richard,” Margaret called from the upstairs, “There’s a phone call for you.”
“Take a message,” he called back, never taking his eyes off the vivacious young woman, “I’m in the middle of training!”
“It’s Quentin,” she replied. “He says it’s urgent.”
Richard sighed and headed upstairs, “Oh, very well!” He then instructed to Mi Ling, “I’ll be right back. I want you to practice that move you just did. I want to see it again, when I return.”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded, as he closed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Mi Ling smiled at Wesley, who was still sitting on his tiny cot against the wall, “So, you want to practice with me?”
Wesley sat straight up, “M-me? Y-you want to practice with me?”
Mi Ling gave a sly grin and walked over to the cot, “Well, who else would I be talking to, silly? Come on. It’ll be fun.”
The teen, hopped off the cot and trotted over to the clearing, “I don’t know if my father wants me to practice with you. I’m not very good with hand to hand combat. I’m more of a crossbow man, myself.”
“Now’s the perfect time to learn,” the young girl smiled, taking up her fighting stance, and motioning him to do the same, “Okay, stand like this, with your arms up here,” she showed him with her hands, “Cool, now I’m going to come after you,” she instructed, “what I want you to do, is block me with your hands.”
“But how?” He began, as she came racing at him.
With little time to think, Wesley side stepped her and back handed the attacking Slayer. Mi Ling was expecting that move, however, and countered it with a leg sweep, sending both teens down onto the cold floor. It took them several minutes before they could untangle their limbs from one another...and cease the giggling.
“I don’t think that move was supposed to have this result,” Wesley chucked, not so quick to remove his hands from the sleek body of his attacker.
“Really?” Mi Ling grew very serious, as she inched closer to him, “I think this is the perfect result.”
She leaned in and touched her lips gently to his. It was a tender kiss, like every first, but it grew with every passing moment, until both settled into a comfortable, yet passionate embrace. In the back of Wesley’s mind, he couldn’t believe that a beautiful, young woman would even give him the time of day, never mind kiss him on the cold, stone floor of his own basement. But here she was kissing him. And he was kissing back!
It was perfect.
“Mi Ling,” Richard opened the door and called to the young girl as he descended the steps, “We have to go. The council wants to meet with us-” He stopped short when he saw the two teens scramble quickly apart, “What’s going on here?” he kept his voice calm, all the while giving his son dagger glances.
Mi Ling jumped to her feet and proceeded on brushing herself off, “I was doing as you asked. I was practicing my hand to hand. I asked Wesley to spar with me. We kinda got a bit tangled, when I tripped him. You should’ve seen it,” she added quickly, knowing the older man was not buying her half truth, “It was pretty funny.”
Richard’s eyes roamed from her to his son with furious speed, “Yes,” he smiled at her, “I’m sure it was. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower. We have to leave for the Council in an hour.”
Mi Ling bowed her head, obediently, “Yes sir.”
The moment the door to the basement close, Richard was practically on top of his son. He picked Wesley up by the nape of the neck and looked murderously in his eyes, “Practicing, eh? I know what you were bleedin’ practicing!” he hissed, tossing the boy on his cot, “Don’t you even think of it, boy! She’s not yours!”
“She’s not yours either!” Wesley bit back, surprised at the words that came from his mouth.
“What did you say?!” he shouted, hitting Wesley hard across his face.
He went to strike the boy again and was deflected deftly, “I said,” Wesley bit back, “You don’t own her! She doesn’t belong to you!”
“I’m her Watcher!”
“Really? It doesn’t look like that to me!” Wesley shouted back, standing his ground. “You practically fall over yourself for her! You don’t want to be her Watcher! You want to be her lover!!”
“You little...” he swung hard, connecting Wesley with a vicious hit across the face.
“Richard stop it!” Margaret shouted, rushing to her son’s aid, “Stop it!”
“You stay out of this!” he shouted back at his wife, “This is between Wesley and I!”
“No!” Margaret stood fast, “This has to stop! I don’t care what you say Wesley did, or did not do. This has to stop!”
“If you don’t like it,” Richard sneered, “then leave!” When she didn’t move, he shook his head in disgust, “I thought as much.” He then turned around and headed up the stairs, leaving mother and son alone in the cold, dark basement.
*~*~*~*~* “We still have four hours of darkness left,” Cordelia suggested, nursing her aching lip with an ice pack. She sat on the couch next to Wesley, who, for the second time in as many days, had his head buried in a cold pack. “You could go back out and look for Charlie.”
“It would be pointless going out without knowing where they might have disappeared to,” Angel countered, pacing the office like a caged tiger. He turned to Frank and asked, “So, where might they go?”
Frank shook his head, “I’m not sure. She could have taken Charlie anywhere.” His features hardened when he looked at Wesley, “Of course Charlie would be safe right now, if it wasn’t for you!”
Wesley only sat in pitiful silence.
“Frank,” Angel tried desperately to change the subject, taking the heat off his heart broken employee, “Try to focus. Does she have any relatives, or friends she might have turned to for help?”
“Well,” he thought, “there’s Vicky.”
“Vicky?” Angel prodded.
“Her cousin,” the demon elaborated, “Victoria Henderson. She’s Charlie’s teacher.”
“Miss Henderson is Naomi’s cousin?!” Wesley head shot up, causing him to wince in pain. “She painted a pretty ugly picture of you when we spoke...”
“Of course she would,” Frank sighed, “she hates me. She thinks I’m unclean...being involved with a human.”
“Naomi was no human,” Wesley muttered.
“No,” he shook his head, “Not Naomi. Jillian.”
“Who?” Angel stopped his pacing.
“Now I’m confused,” Cordelia shook her head.
“You’re not alone,” Wesley agreed.
“Jillian was my first wife,” Frank explained, “She was human.”
“Was?” Wesley asked, looking up at the demon.
“She died during childbirth,” Frank said sadly.
“Childbirth,” Cordelia began, “you two had a...” Realizing what he meant she nodded, “Oh...”
Frank nodded, “I met Naomi when Charlie was six. I thought if I married again it would make raising him easier for us of both. And Naomi seemed so loving to him, at first.”
“What happened?” Angel asked.
“It was fine for a while,” Frank went on to explain, “but as Charlie got older, and his human side became more dominant, Naomi began to get...disgusted with him. She started spouting anti-human sentiments, telling Charlie that he was less than perfect for being of ‘mixed blood’.”
“I was under the impression that almost all demons on earth are of mixed origins,” Wesley looked at the demon curiously.
“We are,” Angel nodded, “but to further mix with humans...”
“Is considered polluting the genes,” Frank added, “At least to many demon clans.” He ran his hands through his hair nervously, “Then, recently she got it in her head that she could perform a cleansing ritual on him, to wipe out his human side. I wouldn’t have it. The human part of him, is what makes Charlie who he is...not just his demon half. If she did that, I would lose my son forever. So I went to the Triad, got separated from her. See, even though the Triad is a council for demons...they don’t believe in genocide. We’ve seen enough of that with the Scourge. They agreed with my arguments and gave me full custody of Charlie.” He turned to Angel and pleaded, “Please, created this mess, now you have to help me find Charlie before she performs the ritual, and kills my son.”
“Well,” Angel nodded, “I think we should start with a visit with our friendly neighborhood teacher.”
****** Victoria Henderson was just finishing grading her papers when the doorbell rang. Putting down her red marker, she headed cautiously to the front door, wondering who would be calling for her this late at night. When she looked through the peephole, she knew.
“I know you’re home, Vicky,” Frank called through the door, trying to eye into the narrow opening of the security window, “Open up! We have to talk!”
“I have nothing to say to you Frank!” Vicky shouted, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up, “Go home!”
“Not without Charlie,” he argued back, “Now either you open this door, or I’m going to kick it in!” He paused when he didn’t hear a response, “Vicky? You still there?”
“Um, I think she’s gone out the back,” Cordelia pointed at the young woman, racing toward her parked car.
Angel moved before Cordelia’s last words left her lips, pinning the demon/teacher to the side of the car, “Going for a drive? And on a school night too.”
“I’ll scream,” she said breathlessly, shaking from fear.
Angel moved in close to her ear and whispered, “You scream, I break your neck...then we all lose. Now if we can just go inside and talk, I’d be happy. How about you?”
“T-talking is g-good,” she nodded furiously.
Once inside her modest house, Victoria sank into the couch, “What do you want from me?”
Angel sat down next to her and smiled, “All I want to know is where Naomi and Charlie are.”
“How should I know,” her eyes we cast down at the shag carpet.
“Don’t give me that, Vicky,” Frank sneered, “I know how close the two of you are, she would have gone to you first.”
Victoria raised her head and threw dagger looks at her Cousin-in-law, “And even if I did, why should I tell you?!”
“Because, no matter how close you are to Naomi,” he reasoned, “You would never let her kill Charlie.”
“K-kill? The last time I spoke with her, you still had Charlie.”
“She kidnapped him a few hours ago,” Angel explained.
“Yeah,” Cordelia nodded, “See, I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”
“She’ll do the Cleansing Ritual,” Frank continued, “You know that.”
“You’re lying. She would never do that,” Naomi shook her head, “I-it would destroy Charlie...”
“A ritual like that,” Wesley figured, “she would need a nice quiet place, away from crowds.”
“Oh my god,” Victoria gasped.
“What is it?” Angel asked.
“The cabin,” she placed her head in her hands, “She wanted to go to my cabin. She said that she needed time to be alone, to think about the Triad’s ruling. She said she was going to appeal. I never thought... Oh my god. I thought you had Charlie.”
They raced out of the house and climbed into Angel’s car. As they drove down the street, Angel turned to Frank, “You know where this cabin is?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “it’s about an hour and a half north of here. We used to go there for family outings...when there was a family.”
“Don’t worry,” Cordelia reassured the worried demon, “we’ll get Charlie back. And you’ll be a family again.”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND 1986*
Wesley tentatively walked into his mother’s room and stared at Margaret, as she began packing a large suitcase, “Mum,” he asked, not hiding the fear in his voice, “W-why are you packing?”
“Oh, sweety,” she sighed, walking over to her teenage son, and hugging him tightly, “It’s going to be all right. Now I want you to go into your room and pack. I want to leave before your father gets home.”
“We’re leaving?” he looked down at the ground. For years he longed for this day, an escape from the pain and suffering. But now, as he watched his mother continue to arrange her clothing into the canvas case, a knot tightened in his stomach. “W-where are we going?”
“Well,” she stopped and pondered her son’s question, “we can’t go to your grandparents house, they would almost surely inform your father. If only my mother and father were still alive...” She sighed and tried to re gather her thoughts, “I suppose we could stay a few nights at a bed and breakfast. At least until I can figure something out.” She looked up and noticed Wesley’s discomfort, “You do want to leave, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said halfheartedly, “If you want me to.” then to ease his mother’s concerns, he smiled, “Can I have a room of my own, again?” Margaret smiled, her tears streaming down her face as she hugged her son, once more, “Oh, sweety, you can have anything you want. We’ll be a family again, I promise. You’ll see.”
*~*~*~*~* “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Wesley muttered, as he stared at out the darkened window of the speeding car.
“Huh?” Cordelia turned to him, “What do you mean?”
Wesley slowly turned to the young woman, as if coming out of a daze, and replied, “I’m sorry, what?”
“You said,” she repeated, “I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes you did.”
“No,” he said softly, “I didn’t.”
“I distinctly heard you,” she insisted, “You said...”
“I didn’t say it to you,” Wesley quickly put the conversation to an end, by turning once again to the darkness outside.
Cordelia, scooted to the other side of the back seat and shook her head, “Ooookay, I think this sleep deprivation thing is getting to Wesley. He’s talking to invisible people now.”
“Cordelia,” Angel sighed, rolling his eyes, “we have an hour and twenty minutes left to drive. Can we spend this time in silence?”
“Oh great,” she grumbled, folding her arms, “I’m not the one talking to my imaginary friend, but I’m the one who has to shut up. It’s soo not fair...”
“Cordelia.”
“Fine,” she huffed, “Shutting up now.”
****** They arrived at the cabin with ten minutes to spare, only to find it deserted. “Okay, so where did they go?” Cordelia asked, looking around the empty cabin.
“Naomi must have taken Charlie somewhere in the woods to perform the ritual,” Wesley pointed out, picking up remnants of spell components, and an empty package of “D” batteries.
“Now how are we going to find them?” Frank paced the cabin, “She could have done the ritual already. We could already be too late!”
“I don’t think so,” Wesley stifled a yawn, “this container that she used to mix the herbs, looks fairly fresh. And the spell would take some time to perform.” Wesley headed for the door, “But we should hurry though.”
“You’re staying here,” Angel instructed the young man.
“What?” Wesley looked confused, “I created this mess, I should be the one to fix-”
“You’re exhausted, Wes,” Angel tried reasoning with him, “You can hardly stand. When was the last time you slept?”
“I’m not that tired...”
“Wesley,” Cordelia added, “you look bad. I mean, the bags under the eyes are a pretty good indication that you need some serious sleep time. Not to mention your conversation with-”
“Cordelia,” Angel said firmly.
“I was just trying to help.”
“You can help by staying here with Wesley, while Frank and I scout the woods,” Angel instructed.
“Stay here?!” Cordelia protested, “Why do I have to Wesley-sit?”
“I’m standing right here, Cordelia,” Wesley grumbled before turning to Angel, “And I really think I should help-”
“Look,” Angel held in his frustration, “Wesley. I need you here in case Naomi comes back.”
“But I still don’t see why I have to...” Cordelia argued
“Do you really want to be out there...in the dark...with a million crawling things,” Angel pointed out.
“Staying here is good,” Cordelia changed her tune, “Staying here is really good.”
“Angel...” Wesley began to protest again.
“Wesley,” Angel countered, “I need you here. She might back track, thinking we would try to find her-”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?” Angel looked innocently at his partner.
“No.”
“Sorry,” he finished abruptly, as the two demons turned to leave the cabin.
“What if you find her, and she’s casting the spell? You can’t kill her if the spell is in progress. It could have dire consequences.” Wesley called out to them.
Angel stopped for a moment and turned around, “Then I’ll stall while Frank gets you.”
“And how do you plan to stall without killing her?” Wesley shouted at the disappearing forms, “Make shadow puppets?!”
****** Wesley sat on the couch. Then moved to the chair. Then moved again over to the couch, before getting up and heading over to the window. Cordelia watched his restlessness with growing concern...and a bit annoyance.
“Wesley,” she said tersely, “pick a spot and stay there. This pacing is really getting annoying.”
“I should be out there,” he said staring out into the night, “I should be doing something.”
“You are doing something,” she replied, “You’re doing what Angel said.”
Wesley grumbled something under his breath and continued to gaze out the window.
‘Some things never change.’
“What?” Wesley turned around trying to find the source of the male voice.
“I didn’t say anything,” Cordelia responded, as she rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, “You know, there is absolutely nothing to eat here. I mean nothing. No cans. No chips. Nothing. And I’m getting the munchies. Boy what I wouldn’t give for Xander and his donut runs right about now.” she paused, “God, I can’t believe I just said that.”
‘Some things never change,’ the voice repeated.
This time Wesley saw a figure come out of the shadows. “Father?” he whispered, as not to let Cordelia know. “What are you doing here? You should be in England....”
‘Look at you,’ the apparition admonished, ‘still the whinny, frightened child. Staying here in the background, while the real men go off and do all the work!’
“Angel told me to stay here,” Wesley said softly, “In case...”
‘In case of what?’ his father sneered, ‘In case you might get in the way? What kind of a Watcher did you turn out to be, taking orders from a vampire? You’re still a disappointment...always will be.’
“No, I’m not,” Wesley argued feebly, “I-I’m....I’m...”
“You’re not what?” Cordelia asked, hearing the soft protesting from her friend.
Wesley turned to her and quickly amended, “I-I’m not really hungry. But if you still are, perhaps there’s food in the pantry.”
“What pantry?” Cordelia looked around, “This is a log cabin in the middle of no where. I seriously doubt they have a pantry.”
“A closet then,” Wesley’s gaze moved from Cordelia to the corporeal form of his father, “I’m sure they have food in a place other than the cabinets.”
‘If you’re a real man, you would go and fix this mess you created,’ the apparition continued.
“How?” Wesley whispered.
His father pointed at Cordelia, who was leaning into a large kitchen closet, poking at the many cans and dry stock on the shelves, ‘I think you know how.’
“Check this out,” Cordelia reached for a can of caviar, “Vicky actually has some taste.” Suddenly she felt strong hands on her back, pushing her into the closet, “Hey! What’s going on!?” Then the door closed behind her, leaving her in complete darkness. “Wes?” she shouted, hearing footsteps move away from the closet, “Wesley, come on! Let me out! Hello? Wes? WES!?!”
****** “Is it me,” Frank grumbled, “or are we getting no where?”
Angel trudged along side the demon and sighed, “There’s nothing out here. No visible trail to follow. I can’t even smell-” Not wanting to give away too much about his true nature, he quickly corrected, “I can’t even smell any sulfur or other spell components.”
“Maybe she did back track,” Frank suggested, “We’ve been out here for the better part of half an hour...”
“I know,” Angel admitted, stopping in his tracks. He thought for a minute and decided, “Okay, we head back and regroup. Maybe, just maybe, Wesley and Cordelia had some better luck.”
****** “This is just great!” Cordelia scolded herself, as she continued to bang on a door that wouldn’t budge, “Angel is so going to kill me. I can’t believe he locked me in here!” When she heard the front door open, she shouted, “Hello?! Help! I’m in here...” She paused, “Ah...unless you’re Angel and really pissed at me...then...nobody’s home.”
The closet door opened, and Cordelia squinted at the bright light of the cabin. There standing before her was Angel and Frank. “Why should I be mad at you Cordelia?” Angel asked, as he helped her out of the cramped closet, “And where’s Wesley?”
“If you need to ask that question,” she tried a save, “then you can’t be too pissed at me...”
“He gone.” Angel replied flatly.
“Then again...”
“Cordelia,” Angel threw his hands up, “What happened? How could you just let him go?”
“Hey,” she shouted at him, “If you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t let him go anywhere. He did that all on his own! I was looking for something to eat, and he just pushed me in here.”
“Did he say anything?” Frank asked, “Like, maybe where he was going?”
“Oh yeah,” Cordelia responded sarcastically, “After he had his conversation with his invisible friend again, he filled me in on his entire plan. Oh, and by the way, he also mentioned something about trying to take over the world...then a narf.”
“Cordelia now’s not the time to be...” Angel began, then stopped, “He was taking to someone?”
“Remember when I told you that in the car,” she folded her arms, “and you told me to shut up? Well, guess what?”
“He must be hallucinating,” Angel shook his head, “From the lack of sleep and the stress of this case. We’ve got to find him before he finds Naomi.”
“If we couldn’t find her,” Frank looked at the vampire with skepticism, “what makes you think he will?”
“I’m not sure, but-”
“Wesley!!!” Cordelia shouted, reeling back.
“Where?!” Frank looked around.
“Cordelia!” Angel caught her before she hit the ground, “What do you see?”
“It’s so dark....” she began as the vision assaulted her nervous system, “A clearing....Naomi...and Charlie...and....oh my god! Wesley, no!!”
The vision disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving Cordelia shaking in her employer’s arms. Angel held her close to him, trying to comfort her, “Cordelia, what happened?”
“He’s gonna find them,” she slowly stood up, “And when he does...” she turned to Angel, “We have to stop him, before it happens again.”
“What happens again?” Angel was trying to make sense of her cryptic response. It was not like Cordelia to be vague about a vision, but he was certain that the fear she felt for their friend was genuine, “Tell me where they are?”
She shook her head, “I have to show you.”
“Cordelia,” Angel touched her arm, “You just had a mind splitting vision, I don’t think-”
“You don’t have to remind me,” she winced, “You’re not the one with gray matter oozing from your ears. But I’m going with you anyway. I know where he’s heading, but I can’t...I can’t explain it to you. I need to take you there.”
Angel tilted his head, “Cordelia, you’ve never had this much trouble with a vision before. Are you sure it’s not something else?”
“Wesley needs me,” she argued, “And...I saw something else in the vision. Something about his past. Something he never told anyone. ANYONE. If he confronts Naomi...I’m not sure what he’ll do.”
****** ‘So,’ the apparition continued to harass, as Wesley trudged through the woods, ‘what are you going to do?’
“I plan to stop the ritual,” Wesley replied, avoiding the harsh glares of the ghostly form of his father.
‘Really?’ he taunted, ‘You?! I find that difficult to believe. You couldn’t do anything right before, what makes you think you can do anything now?’
“Because I’m not a child anymore. I’m not some bumbling fool,” Wesley stumbled slightly over a root.
‘So I see,' he father sniffed.
Wesley stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward the apparition, “Why are you still doing this to me?!” he shouted, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”
****** “This way,” Cordelia pointed to the trampled down earth, “Come on, we don’t have much time!”
“Your friend left a pretty obvious trail,” Frank shook his head, “We could have left her back at the cabin.”
“No,” Angel replied, “if she says Wesley needs her...then I believe it.”
Frank moved in closer to Angel and whispered, “But why? I mean, what did she mean, ‘happen again’?”
“I’m not sure,” Angel admitted, “but whatever it is, I don’t want to find out.”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND 1986---that same night*
Margaret had just hung up the phone when Wesley walked up the stairs from the basement. In his hand was one suitcase, with all the belongings he could cram inside. He looked curiously at his mother, “Who where you talking to?” he asked.
“I was just on the phone with a friend of mine,” she explained, “She’s going to pick us up and take us to the country. She’ll be over in about an hour. Are you completely packed?”
“Yes.”
“Splendid,” she smiled wearily, sitting on a chair in the hallway, “I’m so sorry that this has to happen. I truly am.”
“It’s not your fault,” Wesley placed his hand on her shoulder, “If I’d been better...”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his arms, “Don’t say that! Don’t *ever* say that! This wasn’t your fault. It’s just....how it is. Please don’t ever think that you’re responsible for this. I love you. I don’t want you to carry any guilt. Understand?”
“Yes Mum,” he said quietly.
“Now,” she placed her hands in her lap, “As soon as Delores arrives-”
“What the hell is going on?” Richard’s voice boomed through the doorway.
Margaret was so concerned about her son, that she didn’t hear her husband’s car pull in front of the house. She didn’t see him, and Mi Ling coming up the walkway. And she certainly didn’t notice the front door open. “R-Richard,” her heart leaped in her chest, “I-I thought you were at the Council. The meeting...”
“Ended,” his eyes narrowed, “Now I ask you again, what the hell is going on?!”
Wesley watched his mother squirm under the venomous glare of his father, and a rage began to boil in him the likes of which he never knew he could feel. “We’re leaving!” he shouted out in defiance, stepping in front of his mother. “A-and you can’t stop us!”
“The hell I can’t!”
“Sir,” Mi Ling interjected.
“Go upstairs!” Richard barked at the young woman, “This is a family matter!”
“But, Sir,” she protested.
“I said go!” he shouted, “That’s an order!”
He turned his attentions back to his wife and son, “Of all the times you pick to do this...” He paced the hallway furiously, “Do you know what the meeting was about?” Before he could let them answer, “It was to inform me that are rumors dealing with a group of vampires who are hunting down the Slayer. My Slayer! And you pick tonight to pull this?!”
“I’m sorry if this inconveniences you-” Margaret began.
“You have no idea!” he hissed, “How am I supposed to get her prepared for this when I have you and the boy running off in a tizzy. You are to stay put until this is finished. Understood?”
“No.” Margaret stood up.
“What did you say?”
“She said...”
*~*~*~*~* “No,” Wesley said, as he peered over a rocky hill into a lamp lit area of cleared woods. “I’m not going to let you do this to me anymore. I’m not going to let you tell me how much of a failure I am.”
‘Why not?’ the spirit answered back, ‘If it’s the truth. When have you done anything you can be proud of? Name me one time you didn’t screw up.’ Wesley paused, ‘I didn’t think so.’ Richard continued, ‘You couldn’t even manage your own Slayer.’
“There were extenuating circumstances...”
‘Yes, like your incompetence.’
Wesley climbed down the hill and began to slowly approach the two figures in the center of the clearing. It was definately Naomi and Charlie, but he couldn’t see what she was doing to him. He needed to get closer. And for that he needed to concentrate.
“Look, can we discuss this later,” he hushed the apparition, “I really need to do this.”
‘You’ll fail,’ he goaded, ‘like you fail at everything.’
“No I...”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND:*
“...won’t!”
“Say that again,” Richard glared at his son.
“I said ‘no we won’t’,” he repeated, “We won’t stay! We won’t pretend to be a family for everyone else! We’re leaving!”
Richard was taken aback by his son’s outright defiance, at least for a moment. Then as his anger rose, he could taste the bile in his throat. “You’re going to regret ever speaking like that to me!”
He raised his hand to strike his son down, when Wesley did the unexpected. With all his might, the young man swung his fist, hitting Richard hard in the jaw. The elder man stumbled back, and shook his head. An instant later he was chasing his son out the back door into the tiny yard.
“Richard, no!” Margaret screamed, running after them, with Mi Ling on her heels.
“Get back here!” Richard shouted, grabbing a hold of Wesley’s hair, and pulled him to the ground.
“Richard stop this!” Margaret cried out, seeing her husband brutally striking his only child, “Stop this!”
“Don’t worry,” Mi Ling touched her shoulder, “I’ll stop him-” she paused when seven large vampires jumped out of the shadows, “Or...not.”
*~*~*~*~* Wesley remembered his Watcher training well...never go into a situation unprepared. He put down the satchel he grabbed when leaving the cabin, and pulled out an ax. If it was one thing about the young man anyone could count on, it was that he was always prepared. Wesley saw the young boy sitting in the center of a large containment circle, while Naomi walked around, chanting something he couldn’t quite hear.
Now was the time to act.
He raced out of the tree line, and reached Naomi before she could even react. With the handle of the ax, he stuck her hard in the side of the head, sending her flying off to the left.
“What the hell are you doing!” She shouted, rubbing her aching temples, as she got back on her feet.
“Stopping you before you hurt Charlie!” Wesley brandished his ax at her, backing her up and away from the terrified boy.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she spat, “Go Away!!!”
‘What are you waiting for?’ the apparition nudged, ‘Stop talking to her, and do something useful!!’
“Shut up! What do you think I’m doing?” Wesley growled at the ghostly form.
“Who are you talking to?” Naomi looked at the disheveled human, curiously.
‘I think you’re wasting time!’
Wesley shrugged off the apparition and hissed, “I said...”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND:*
“Shut Up!!!” Wesley kicked his father in the gut, knocking the older man off of him. Wesley was bleeding and was sore, but his anger never sated. “You’re never going to hurt me or Mum anymore! I won’t let you!” He stood up on his feet fully prepared to continue the fight, “I hate you! I hate you! I wish you were dead!!!”
Richard stood up and was about to go back after his son, when he saw his Slayer fighting the demons. Reacting on instinct alone, and the drive to protect the Slayer, Richard, tossed his son aside and ran to Mi Ling’s aid.
Wesley turned to his mother, who huddled close to the back door, “Mum, go inside and get the cross bow.”
“But...”
“Hurry, please!” he begged, “Beside it, should be a quiver of wooden tipped bolts. Get them all.”
Seven against two was never very good odds, especially when dealing with vampires. But then, Mi Ling was no ordinary girl. Using every ounce of Slayer strength she had, the young woman fought bravely. In two minutes time, three of the seven vampires were dusted. Only four more to go. She round housed the fourth vampire into Richard, who drove a tree branch into it’s chest, sending it to oblivion, and leaving them with only three.
“Okay,” she smiled, “Now here are odds I like much better.”
*~*~*~*~* “You’re crazy!” Naomi shouted, as she only just managed to dodge another blow from the ax, “What are you trying to do!?”
“I’m trying to make sure you never hurt anyone ever again!” Wesley swung the ax again, this time connecting with her arm.
Because she had reverted to demon form, Naomi had a distinct advantage. But against a lunatic wielding an ax...even she had her doubts. “This doesn’t concern you!” She grabbed the ax, tearing it from his hand, and back handing him with the other.
‘You’re letting her win,’ the apparition shook his head, kneeling down next to his pinned son, ‘What kind of plan is this?’
“It’s a plan I intend on winning!” Wesley growled, rolling on top of Naomi.
“WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND:*
“Wesley,” Margaret called out to her son, “Here.” she handed him the crossbow and slid back inside the house. Being the wife of a Watcher, she knew her place was where it was safe.
Wesley concentrated, and aimed the crossbow at the one vampire that sneaked up behind Mi Ling. The world went silent around him. He saw nothing but the back of the demon, and heard nothing but the sound of the clicking of the trigger. As the bolt went flying, his world came back into focus...
And the vampire exploded into ashes.
“Yes!” he shouted, giving a little hop of glee, while he reloaded the bow.
“You’re mine, Slayer” the largest of the two remaining vampires hissed, grabbing a hold of the young woman’s throat.
“Not...if....I...can help...it,” Mi Ling gasped, trying to break free of the vice grip on her neck.
“Damnit!” Wesley growled, as the bolt jammed in the chamber. He struggled to free the shaft, when he gasped in horror. “Mi Ling!” He shouted in panic, hoping that his voice would travel through the air and protect the young woman from certain death.
It didn’t.
The next thing he heard was a sickening snap...then silence.
Richard managed to stake the other vampire and was about to aid the Slayer, when he saw her limp body fall to the ground. “NO!!”
He raced over to his fallen slayer, and the vampire that killed her. He began to blindly fight the demon, striking in fury alone. But although he fought hard, he was no match against the undead. He was about to die.
“Wesley,” his mother called out to him, “do something! For god’s sake, do something!”
Wesley continued to struggle with the crossbow, “I am! I am!” When he heard the click, he sighed in relief, “Okay,” he aimed at the vampire’s back, “time to die!”
He let loose the bolt, and prayed.
It stuck true. And the vampire disappeared into a cloud of dust.
“I did it!” the young man shouted, “I did it! I dusted two vampires!”
But when the dust cleared, Wesley discovered another thing he did.
“Dad?” his heart stopped, when he saw his father staggered into view. The crossbow bolt that so deftly stuck down their enemy, had also hit another mark...
His father.
“Dad?” Wesley repeated, as he watched him fall down next to the still form of Mi Ling.
Richard Wyndham-Pryce died before Wesley’s crossbow hit the ground.
*~*~*~*~* When Wesley looked down at the pinned form of Naomi Stanton, all he could see was the face of his father, staring up at him, ‘What?’ his father taunted, ‘You killed me once, have no stomach to do it again?’
“You bastard!” Wesley cried out, hitting his father harder and hard with every strike, “I was trying to save your life!”
‘Really?’ he laughed, blood spitting from his split lip, ‘Seems to me you wanted me dead. Remember? You even said it! Well, lad, you got your wish! How does that make you feel?’
“I loved you,” he sighed, “All I ever wanted was for you to love me...to say a kind word, no matter how small. Why couldn’t you tell me how much you cared?! Why couldn’t you say how proud you were of me?! That’s all I bloody wanted!!!”
‘Don’t say you didn’t feel a bit of relief when I died?’ his father came back at him, ‘Don’t deny it! I know you better than that! You actually were relieved that I died.’
“No.” he shook his head, weakly.
‘Say it!’ he continued his torment, ‘Day after day, you hoped and prayed and dreamed that I would just disappeared. I bet you even pretended that I was dead.’
“No,” he said with more force.
‘If I was gone, you’re pain would be gone. Isn’t that right? Isn’t it?! Well, answer me!'
“Yes!” Wesley shouted, his anger rising, “All right! I wanted you to die so badly, I could taste it! When you were out, and the phone would ring, I would pretend that it was the constable calling to tell Mum that you died in a crash or something! Is that what you wanted to hear?! Is it?!”
‘Then what are you waiting for?’ his father urged, ‘Do it. End your torment. You probably don’t have what it takes. You’ll never be good enough for me!’
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND:*
Margaret raced passed her son, over to the body of her husband and his Slayer. She cradled him in her arms, rocking slowly, and crying softly. Wesley could only watch as one moment in time erased years of pain for his mother. He tried to feel sorrow. Pain. Anger. Any emotion other than the emptiness he was feeling now. But emptiness would be the only thing that filled his heart.
Emptiness and regret.
“Wesley,” his mother called out to him, “Wesley please. Wesley....”
*~*~*~*~* “Wesley!” A familiar voice brought him back to the present, and to the reality of his situation. “Wesley, please don’t do this,” Cordelia begged him.
Wesley looked down and saw the bloody, beaten face of Naomi where his father’s face once had been. In his hand was a small dagger he kept on him, poised for the kill. Then he looked up. Standing next to his father, was a young boy about to witness the death of the only mother he ever knew. And in his eyes, Wesley saw himself. He dropped the knife, and scooted away from Naomi.
So many years of pain, locked away...hidden from prying eyes. The hurt and anger he felt, but pushed away, finally began to resurface. And when Wesley, saw the same look on Charlie’s face, another emotion flooded his soul.
Sorrow.
And for the first time since Richard’s death, Wesley Wydham-Pryce allowed himself to cry. For his father...and for himself.
****** Epilogue
“He’s resting,” Cordelia said, sitting down at Angel’s kitchen table. She rubbed her weary eyes, and yawned, “Finally.”
“What did the two of you talk about?” Angel asked, placing a cup of hot coffee in front of her.
“Everything....nothing,” she sipped slowly, “He mostly just didn’t want to be alone. You were right, by the way.”
“Right about what?”
Cordelia looked up, “Bringing him here. The guy’s a wreak.”
Angel nodded, “He’s been through a lot. But I think things will get better for him...in time.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, turning toward the bedroom, where their friend was sleeping, “Let’s hope it won’t be too much time. This ‘stressed-out-Wesley’ is a scary thing to be around.” She paused, taking another sip, “Speaking of stressed...how’s Frank and Charlie?”
“Frank brought Naomi in front of the council,” Angel explained, “He didn’t say much of the ruling, but from what I understand, he has sole custody of Charlie. Permanently.”
Cordelia shook her head, “Good. I still have a head ache from her.”
“She really believed she was helping Charlie,” Angel shrugged, “That’s the problem with abuse...the abuser doesn’t think they’re doing anything wrong.”
“Yeah, well, my fat lip says otherwise,” Cordelia sniffed, “And look at Wesley. I think he would say otherwise too.”
“Cordelia?” Angel hedged, “What did you see in that vision?”
Remembering the promise she made to Wesley not ten minutes ago, she shrugged, “You’ll have to ask Wes, one of these days...”
*~*~*~*~* *SMITHFIELD, ENGLAND--One week later:*
Wesley sat on the stairs listening to his mother speak with Mr. Travers, and two other members of the Council of Watchers. He was still numb inside even after a week, but listening to his mother, he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt and betrayed. In her eyes, it was as though the past several years never happened, and Richard was still the model husband and father.
“Thank you Quentin,” she said sadly, “Thank you for taking care of the funeral...and the other matters.”
Wesley knew what she was speaking of. The Council, not wanting to bring into light the reality of vampires, planted evidence to steer the police away. They also, buried any information involving Richard’s connection to the Council. It was their way of ‘protecting’ their interests.
But in that, they also buried the ‘truth’. The whole truth.
“You’re husband died as any Watcher would,” Travers said, placing his hand on her shoulder, “fighting evil and defending his Slayer. He died a hero.”
“Yes,” she said distantly, “he did.”
Travers sat in silence for a moment before speaking again, “There is another matter I wanted to speak with you about.”
Margaret sighed, “Yes, I know.”
“We could give him far greater opportunities to continue his training if he were with us,” Travers gently pushed.
“I know,” Margaret nodded, “I really do know. But...does he have to stay at that school?”
“It’s the only way we can tend to all his needs,” Travers insisted, “He will get the best education, and training, I promise.”
“I thought the Council wasn’t going to accept Wesley,” Margaret said, “I thought they felt he didn’t have what it took to be a Watcher?”
Travers shifted uncomfortably, “Yes, well...”
“This is out of respect for your husband,” one of the other Watchers pointed out.
Wesley lowered his head. Even with his father gone, he was still not good enough to be a Watcher. He was only accepted by default.
“Wesley has potential,” Travers said, with some annoyance in his voice, “He’s bright, and a good study. I’m sure, with encouragement, he will prove to be a good Watcher. In spite of what the Council originally thought.”
“Can I visit him?” she asked.
“Family interference is strictly prohibited-” the other Watcher began.
“It’s a difficult matter,” Travers quickly interrupted, “If he had begun his training at an earlier age, I would say that it wouldn’t be a problem. However, he does have a great deal of catching up to do. I wouldn’t recommend it. At least for the next two or three years...”
“Two or three years?!” Wesley hopped down from the stairs, “You’re going to send me away for two or three years?!”
“Wesley, please,” his mother tried to calm the young man.
“But, what about my friends?” he continued, “What about you?”
Margaret walked over to her son, and gently pulled him aside, “Wesley, sweety,” she bit back tears, as she smoothed his ruffled hair, “Three years isn’t so long. We don’t have much now, and they can offer you far more than I ever could.”
“But...”
“Wesley,” she kissed him on his forehead, “please don’t make this any harder on me than it already is. Just think of it as going to a private school.”
Wesley pulled away from her and looked hard into his mother’s eyes, “I don’t want to go to a private school. I want to stay with you. Mum,” he pleaded, “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t send me away.”
Margaret backed off and turned to Travers, “All right. If you really think it’s for the best...”
“It is for the best,” Travers nodded, as his assistants began to carry out Wesley’s bags.
Once more, Wesley pleaded to his mother, “Mum, please.”
“I’ll see you soon,” she cried, watching her son leave the tiny house, “I promise.”
*~*~*~*~* Wesley sat up in the bed. He couldn’t sleep now, even if he wanted to. There were far too many things going through his head. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the smell of nutmeg, and the warm feeling of his mother’s arms, as she hugged him goodbye. It had been so long, and there was so much distance between them now that he was surprised he could even remember what she was like then.
Even after he was finally allowed to see his mother, things were strained between them. Although it was always cordial, their visits went no deeper than discussing the weather, or how he did in school. Never once did they speak of Richard, and that night. Not in all their time together did they admit it ever happened.
Fifteen years of denying truth.
Fifteen years of living a lie.
And it was eating at him like a thousand piranha’s in a murky pool.
Wesley reached over and picked up the receiver of the phone. With trembling hands, he began to dial. When a voice answered he paused, almost wanting to hang up, but knowing, for both their sakes, he couldn’t. “Hello, Mum?” he hitched a sigh, “Can we talk?”
The end...is a new beginging.
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