(no subject)
Three times I'd stood in the hallways of Wolfram and Hart. Three times I'd visited their offices, talked to Wesley and Gunn and Fred, played nice with my friends while I tried to wrap my head around all of this - and I came up with exactly nothing that would lead me to whatever the hell was going on.
Nothing.
Wes and Gunn, for all they'd picked me up and gave me clothes and actually paid for a decent meal (the liquid diet had so done me no good at all) they'd offered me no explanation. Every time I even tried to get into the whole thing with Wes he made some excuse and realized he had something to do. In short, it was pissing me off.
Nobody would talk about it. Nobody remembered and with Angel off being all retreat-y, it wasn't like I had a multitude of options on the whole answer thing.
I'd stayed with Wesley since I got out of the hospital. They'd wanted to keep me there, for observation they said, but I'd had enough of hospital rooms and white-washed walls to last me a lifetime. Gunn had taken me for dinner that night and dropped me off at Wesley's. I'd tried to talk to him, tried to make him see sense, somehow... But the kicker about all of this was that they thought they were doing the right thing. Fighting from inside the belly of the beast, Gunn had said... And I didn't buy that 'everything's fine' company line any more than Wesley did my insistances that I was fine.
I wasn't sleeping well. Not so ironic, really, since I'd spent the last few months in a coma, I just kind of figured I was all sleeped out at first. I kept dreaming of stuff. Weird stuff about my being pregnant and not... Not really being there. Kind of like an out-of-body experience in reverse or something and much with the terrifying. I'd lost count of the amount of times I'd woken up on Wesley's couch (no matter how much he'd insisted, I wouldn't take the bed) screaming and crying and when Wes had hotfooted to his living room and asked me what was wrong, I'd just shook my head and cited 'bad dreams'.
I wanted to believe that he was crazy, that they'd somehow altered his whole perception of the world, making him work for evil like that... But Wesley was just... Just Wesley and when he wrapped his arms around me and told me that things would start making sense eventually, I just kind of had to believe him.
But I still wanted answers. I'd tried everything I could think of. Singing for Lorne, who'd just looked kind of sad and told me that the kind of answers I wanted, I'd have to go elsewhere for. I even remembered Angel mentioning the gateway to the Powers (under the Post Office, of all places) but when I'd got there, the gateway was empty.
In short, I was screwed. I remembered nothing, the amount of visions I'd had since I'd come back totalled a grand number of zero (and it's not like I could blame the PTB since my friends were working for the very company we'd tried to take down) and I was just... Kind of drifting. Minus a purpose, minus any real sense of what I was supposed to be doing these days and it wasn't like I wanted a sign a contract with the great sucking law firm of death, even though I'd been offered one. Twice.
I didn't know what to do and wandering round Wolfram and Hart while Wes was 'otherwise engaged' wasn't exactly my greatest plan ever.
[ Open to anyone at W&H ]
Nothing.
Wes and Gunn, for all they'd picked me up and gave me clothes and actually paid for a decent meal (the liquid diet had so done me no good at all) they'd offered me no explanation. Every time I even tried to get into the whole thing with Wes he made some excuse and realized he had something to do. In short, it was pissing me off.
Nobody would talk about it. Nobody remembered and with Angel off being all retreat-y, it wasn't like I had a multitude of options on the whole answer thing.
I'd stayed with Wesley since I got out of the hospital. They'd wanted to keep me there, for observation they said, but I'd had enough of hospital rooms and white-washed walls to last me a lifetime. Gunn had taken me for dinner that night and dropped me off at Wesley's. I'd tried to talk to him, tried to make him see sense, somehow... But the kicker about all of this was that they thought they were doing the right thing. Fighting from inside the belly of the beast, Gunn had said... And I didn't buy that 'everything's fine' company line any more than Wesley did my insistances that I was fine.
I wasn't sleeping well. Not so ironic, really, since I'd spent the last few months in a coma, I just kind of figured I was all sleeped out at first. I kept dreaming of stuff. Weird stuff about my being pregnant and not... Not really being there. Kind of like an out-of-body experience in reverse or something and much with the terrifying. I'd lost count of the amount of times I'd woken up on Wesley's couch (no matter how much he'd insisted, I wouldn't take the bed) screaming and crying and when Wes had hotfooted to his living room and asked me what was wrong, I'd just shook my head and cited 'bad dreams'.
I wanted to believe that he was crazy, that they'd somehow altered his whole perception of the world, making him work for evil like that... But Wesley was just... Just Wesley and when he wrapped his arms around me and told me that things would start making sense eventually, I just kind of had to believe him.
But I still wanted answers. I'd tried everything I could think of. Singing for Lorne, who'd just looked kind of sad and told me that the kind of answers I wanted, I'd have to go elsewhere for. I even remembered Angel mentioning the gateway to the Powers (under the Post Office, of all places) but when I'd got there, the gateway was empty.
In short, I was screwed. I remembered nothing, the amount of visions I'd had since I'd come back totalled a grand number of zero (and it's not like I could blame the PTB since my friends were working for the very company we'd tried to take down) and I was just... Kind of drifting. Minus a purpose, minus any real sense of what I was supposed to be doing these days and it wasn't like I wanted a sign a contract with the great sucking law firm of death, even though I'd been offered one. Twice.
I didn't know what to do and wandering round Wolfram and Hart while Wes was 'otherwise engaged' wasn't exactly my greatest plan ever.
[ Open to anyone at W&H ]