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Revelations
Lorne opened his purple door.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’m going to post a sign that says ‘Dethwok in Hiding.’ That way, everyone can just drop
in. I may put up a velvet rope, hire a bouncer...”
Connor brushed past him. He looked as though he had leapt from bed in California, slapped on some flip-flops and
caught a plane to London. His Vote for Pedro T-shirt had a rumpled, slept-in look and smelled of airline coffee.
“Have you heard from my Dad?” Connor asked. He kneaded his hands into fists.
Lorne shut the door. “No, kiddo. Not a peep,” he said. “You want a... soda?”
Connor swept his hair back from his forehead. “Did you call him?”
Lorne knew Connor wouldn’t like the answer, but spilled anyway. “I did, Cons. Thing was, Angel spent the day
tied up in meetings. Had to leave a message. And he never called back.”
“Meetings?” Connor said. “What sort?”
Lorne absented himself into the kitchen. Kid didn’t want a drink, but it was absolute necessity for Lorne.
“You’re not telling,” Connor said. “Which means I’m right.”
Lorne peeked out from the pass-through bar. “Right about what?”
“My Dad’s in trouble,” he said.
Lorne stared. His red mouth drew down into a rigid grimace. He said, “You gotta trust that Angel knows his
barley from his hops, his wheat from chaff. Your Pop can handle himself.”
“No,” Connor said, heading for the door.
“Kiddo. Wait. You just got here,” Lorne said. “Where are you going?”
Connor stepped out onto the quiet street. “To get help,” he said.
They met Dr. Chapman in a first-floor emergency suite. It was the kind of ward that held several patients
sequestered behind drawn sterile-blue curtains on runners. All six beds were occupied; the doctor stopped
them just inside the doorway before they could locate the one in which Giles slept.
The doctor wore a resolute frown on his young face. His sparse wavy hair, which was already going gray, clung
to his forehead in sweaty strings.
“Which of you is Miss Summers?” the doctor asked.
Buffy stepped forward. “How is he?” she asked, immediately.
The doctor drew back the nearest curtain.
At first glance, he seemed to be resting peacefully, partially reclined in the hospital bed like a man who had just
come down from a minor procedure in the oncology ward. And maybe that was because that’s what they all
wanted to see.
The light was dim, so the marks presented themselves slowly. Yellowed bruises banded his wrists. Several short
gashes – claw-marks – serrated his hairline. Bulky bandages around his neck concealed the worst of his wounds.
They all knew what those were. A plastic tube snaked around the bedrail, delivering blood to Giles’ body from a
near empty pouch suspended from the rack above his head. Other various wires linked him to machines that
whirred and hummed at the bedside.
Buffy lay her hands on Giles forearm. Her stomach churned in an uncomfortable way. She half-expected to find
the skin cold. To her relief, he was warm. Just resting.
“He’s sedated,” Dr. Chapman told them.
After a moment, Xander said, “Sedated? Why?”
Dr. Chapman removed his Buddy Holly glasses. He tapped the earpiece to his lip, thoughtfully, and in a very
Giles-like manner, as if searching for the most diplomatic way to put the news.
“He tried to escape,” he told them. “He refused a transfusion. Kept ripping the IV feed from his arm. He had
lost a great deal of blood, you understand. He was delirious. We restrained him, of course, but...” Dr. Chapman
chuckled. It was hollow, weary sound. “He’s much stronger than he looks.”
“So you gave him a sedative to treat him?” Buffy said.
“It was the only way. Once we got him stabilized, we could set our minds to the task of finding his relations,”
Dr. Chapman said. “It was bloody near impossible, I can tell you that. He came in John Doe this afternoon. No
identification and near unconscious.”
“How did he get here?” Buffy asked. “I mean, when last we heard he was in New York.”
The doctor shrugged. He slipped his glasses into the pocket of his coat. “Taxi cab dropped him at the
emergency room doors,” he said. “We assumed by the nature of his injuries that he was held captive for a time
and escaped. God knows how. The neck wounds are similar to many I’ve seen on patients of late.”
William shoved in, almost toppling the Doctor Chapman.
“Thanks, doc,” he snapped. “We’d like a moment alone with the patient.”
Dr. Chapman blinked, stunned to uselessness. William hefted the young man by his shoulders and moved him
three feet to the left, and released him. The doctor scurried backward, bumping into Dawn in his retreat.
“What are you...?” Buffy whispered harshly. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Why would Rupert want to escape from a hospital?” William asked, keeping a hushed tone.
“Why would you send the doctor toddling off to find security?” Xander spat.
William fisted his hand in Xander’s shirt collar. “Look, you ignorant blighter,” he said.
Buffy slammed into both of them, forcing them apart.
“What are you doing?” she asked William. Her eyes were shining with tears. “What’s wrong with you?”
William laughed his age-old Spike laugh. “Why am I?” he asked. “Buffy, I know why Rupert wants out of this
place. I understand it all now. And so does he. We didn’t win in Sunnydale.”
“What?” Buffy asked.
Xander made a derisive snort. “Beg to differ, Blondie. We walked out of there, and Big Bad, lacking legs, did
not.”
“Yes, you walked out. At the expense of an entire town,” William said. He bit his lip. “Do you think vampires
need our towns? They don’t. They like us to destroy. It’s then that we do their bloody work for them.”
Dawn, playing the part of the voice of reason, slipped in beside Buffy. “What does any of this have to do with
Giles?” she asked.
William swaggered to the foot of Giles’ bed. “Wanna know how evil vampires can be, little bit?” He drew out the
‘e’ sound in evil. He ran his tongue over his teeth for effect. “Ask me. I know.”
Buffy leaned in. “Why are you doing this? Talking like this?” she whispered.
“This is what you’re signing up for, pet. This is me. Ask me what I know. I’m a walking, talking encyclopedia of
blood and death,” he said.
Buffy shook her head. A hollowness filled the space under her ribs. As Jack Nicholas as he sounded, she began to
get where he was heading.
William continued. “Vampires, Buffy. They’d target a hospital. What terminal patient could refuse the lure of
life eternal? Hope to the hopeless. My guess: they’d take orphanages next. Followed by homeless shelters.
Asylums. Power to the powerless.”
Dawn lifted her eyes to his. “Oh my God,” she said. “He’s building an army.”
“Who is?” Xander asked.
“All those starving nations no one ever sees,” Dawn said.
“I think you’re catching on,” William said.
Dawn nodded, fervently. “And Tara said to protect him, and Xander and Andrew. They’re all human.”
Buffy held up her hands. “Wait. Wait,” she said. “Can we stop with the Aldous Huxley here? You’re saying the
Big Bad is vampires? Those wekill, remember? It’s all in the job title.”
“Right. You handle them,” he said. William came close to her. He lowered his face to hers, their noses nearly
touching. “I bet your sweeps in Sunnydale never once included staking a child. And revenants, Buffy: Ever
encounter one of those? Vampires who lost their minds before they were turned. Different breed of animal.
They eviscerate and maim for the primal pleasure of it, drinking marrow from bones, painting their bodies with
the blood of...”
“Okay. Enough,” Xander said, peeling William away. “You’ve made your point.”
Dazed, William said, “Have I? I’m not sure that I have. Every vampire we kill equals human casualty. They were
people once, get it? Human. Like us.”
“And now they’re part of the Evil Empire,” Xander said. “Conscripted soldiers...”
“Fighting Thellian’s war,” Dawn added.
“We have to find him,” Buffy said. “We have to stop him.”
“What if it’s already too late?” Dawn asked, voice edged with desperation.
Buffy took Dawn’s hands. “It’s not,” she said, firmly. “We will find a way.”
Buffy saw the questions in Dawn’s eyes, and inwardly thanked her sister for not asking them. She wouldn’t
know how to answer; she couldn’t answer the list that was growing inside her own head.
“So,” Xander said. “I’m just gonna ask. Please don’t slam me.”
“Can’t promise,” William muttered.
Xander’s good eye twitched. “What about Angel?” he asked.
Buffy did a poor job of hiding her sudden wince. “What about him?” she asked.
“Man with connections. Man who is also a vampire,” Xander said. “He must know something,”
Buffy held her breath, considering.
“I’ll find him,” William said.
“No. It’s too dangerous,” Buffy said. “For both of you. Besides, I need you here.”
William glowered. “Need me here for what? To play nursemaid for your Watcher?”
“To patrol,” Buffy said. She flicked her eyes to meet his. “Remember?”
William breathed a wavering sigh. “Course I remember, luv. But you belong here. With him. In case he wakes
enough to jailbreak.”
Giles stirred slightly. His gown opened at the throat, exposing part of his thin chest and a crosshatching of
scratches. The white cord of Willow’s charm lay against his sallow skin.
Buffy adjusted the sheet, tucking it in around him. His mouth parted, but his eyes remained shut. She
swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said. “Guys, from now on, no one goes out alone. We’ll take shifts guarding Giles.
I’ll go first.”
“And I’ll be here for the second shift,” Xander said. “Bright and early, with coffee and cream.”
“Good,” Buffy said. “Keep your phones nearby. If you hear from Willow or Kennedy, or any of the others, let me
know. And I’ll take just cream, Xander. No coffee.”
“No coffee for Buffy?” Xander asked. “That must be a sign of the Apocalypse.”
William and Buffy exchanged a brief, beleaguered look.
Dawn said, “I can stay with you. Keep you company,” she said. “There could be card games.”
“I need you working on the Circle,” Buffy said. “Boadicea was a Slayer. The scrolls were hidden in her tomb.
There has to be a connection somehow. Find out where it fits in.”
“I will,” Dawn said. She hugged Buffy, her gangly arms fitting all the way around her sister’s narrow shoulders.
Xander and William hugged her as well, each in turn.
“Be careful,” she told them.
They swore to her they would.
Nighna raised her arms in an expansive yet fake yawn. She got to her feet.
“That’s all I know,” she said to Andrew. She looked down at his upturned face. “Find the dagger before he
does, and your friends are home free.”
Andrew seemed to consider for a long while. He relaxed his grip on Clarisse’s feathered neck.
“Peckerhead,” the bird snarled, full of more venom than he thought fowl could contain.
“I guess,” he began. His throat was dry and sticky. He tried again. “I guess you can have your bird back. She’s
pretty upset with me.”
Nighna offered a somber smile. “I think it best she stay with you,” she said. “I have told you enough tonight to
warrant the necessity of keeping us far apart. For now.”
Andrew lowered his head. “I’ve placed you in danger,” he said.
“I did that myself,” Nighna said. She laughed. It was the vocal equivalent of chocolate. “Better or worse, it’s
beyond my control. Andrew Wells.”
Nighna moved from the patch of light to dusky shadow, heading for the door.
“Uh, Nighna,” Andrew said to her back.
She paused.
“Maybe when...”
“Don’t say it,” Nighna interrupted. She continued into deeper darkness, and then was gone.
After a moment, Andrew closed the cage door. He wasn’t sure any of his actions had been good choices.
He’d learned lots, but had the feeling he had lost a lot, too.
“Bad boy,” Clarisse scolded, making it plain to him just how she felt about her present situation.
Without a word, Andrew gathered his gear and the wire-frame cage. He walked out into the still, quiet night,
feeling that everything had changed.
Lorne opened his purple door.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’m going to post a sign that says ‘Dethwok in Hiding.’ That way, everyone can just drop
in. I may put up a velvet rope, hire a bouncer...”
Connor brushed past him. He looked as though he had leapt from bed in California, slapped on some flip-flops and
caught a plane to London. His Vote for Pedro T-shirt had a rumpled, slept-in look and smelled of airline coffee.
“Have you heard from my Dad?” Connor asked. He kneaded his hands into fists.
Lorne shut the door. “No, kiddo. Not a peep,” he said. “You want a... soda?”
Connor swept his hair back from his forehead. “Did you call him?”
Lorne knew Connor wouldn’t like the answer, but spilled anyway. “I did, Cons. Thing was, Angel spent the day
tied up in meetings. Had to leave a message. And he never called back.”
“Meetings?” Connor said. “What sort?”
Lorne absented himself into the kitchen. Kid didn’t want a drink, but it was absolute necessity for Lorne.
“You’re not telling,” Connor said. “Which means I’m right.”
Lorne peeked out from the pass-through bar. “Right about what?”
“My Dad’s in trouble,” he said.
Lorne stared. His red mouth drew down into a rigid grimace. He said, “You gotta trust that Angel knows his
barley from his hops, his wheat from chaff. Your Pop can handle himself.”
“No,” Connor said, heading for the door.
“Kiddo. Wait. You just got here,” Lorne said. “Where are you going?”
Connor stepped out onto the quiet street. “To get help,” he said.
They met Dr. Chapman in a first-floor emergency suite. It was the kind of ward that held several patients
sequestered behind drawn sterile-blue curtains on runners. All six beds were occupied; the doctor stopped
them just inside the doorway before they could locate the one in which Giles slept.
The doctor wore a resolute frown on his young face. His sparse wavy hair, which was already going gray, clung
to his forehead in sweaty strings.
“Which of you is Miss Summers?” the doctor asked.
Buffy stepped forward. “How is he?” she asked, immediately.
The doctor drew back the nearest curtain.
At first glance, he seemed to be resting peacefully, partially reclined in the hospital bed like a man who had just
come down from a minor procedure in the oncology ward. And maybe that was because that’s what they all
wanted to see.
The light was dim, so the marks presented themselves slowly. Yellowed bruises banded his wrists. Several short
gashes – claw-marks – serrated his hairline. Bulky bandages around his neck concealed the worst of his wounds.
They all knew what those were. A plastic tube snaked around the bedrail, delivering blood to Giles’ body from a
near empty pouch suspended from the rack above his head. Other various wires linked him to machines that
whirred and hummed at the bedside.
Buffy lay her hands on Giles forearm. Her stomach churned in an uncomfortable way. She half-expected to find
the skin cold. To her relief, he was warm. Just resting.
“He’s sedated,” Dr. Chapman told them.
After a moment, Xander said, “Sedated? Why?”
Dr. Chapman removed his Buddy Holly glasses. He tapped the earpiece to his lip, thoughtfully, and in a very
Giles-like manner, as if searching for the most diplomatic way to put the news.
“He tried to escape,” he told them. “He refused a transfusion. Kept ripping the IV feed from his arm. He had
lost a great deal of blood, you understand. He was delirious. We restrained him, of course, but...” Dr. Chapman
chuckled. It was hollow, weary sound. “He’s much stronger than he looks.”
“So you gave him a sedative to treat him?” Buffy said.
“It was the only way. Once we got him stabilized, we could set our minds to the task of finding his relations,”
Dr. Chapman said. “It was bloody near impossible, I can tell you that. He came in John Doe this afternoon. No
identification and near unconscious.”
“How did he get here?” Buffy asked. “I mean, when last we heard he was in New York.”
The doctor shrugged. He slipped his glasses into the pocket of his coat. “Taxi cab dropped him at the
emergency room doors,” he said. “We assumed by the nature of his injuries that he was held captive for a time
and escaped. God knows how. The neck wounds are similar to many I’ve seen on patients of late.”
William shoved in, almost toppling the Doctor Chapman.
“Thanks, doc,” he snapped. “We’d like a moment alone with the patient.”
Dr. Chapman blinked, stunned to uselessness. William hefted the young man by his shoulders and moved him
three feet to the left, and released him. The doctor scurried backward, bumping into Dawn in his retreat.
“What are you...?” Buffy whispered harshly. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Why would Rupert want to escape from a hospital?” William asked, keeping a hushed tone.
“Why would you send the doctor toddling off to find security?” Xander spat.
William fisted his hand in Xander’s shirt collar. “Look, you ignorant blighter,” he said.
Buffy slammed into both of them, forcing them apart.
“What are you doing?” she asked William. Her eyes were shining with tears. “What’s wrong with you?”
William laughed his age-old Spike laugh. “Why am I?” he asked. “Buffy, I know why Rupert wants out of this
place. I understand it all now. And so does he. We didn’t win in Sunnydale.”
“What?” Buffy asked.
Xander made a derisive snort. “Beg to differ, Blondie. We walked out of there, and Big Bad, lacking legs, did
not.”
“Yes, you walked out. At the expense of an entire town,” William said. He bit his lip. “Do you think vampires
need our towns? They don’t. They like us to destroy. It’s then that we do their bloody work for them.”
Dawn, playing the part of the voice of reason, slipped in beside Buffy. “What does any of this have to do with
Giles?” she asked.
William swaggered to the foot of Giles’ bed. “Wanna know how evil vampires can be, little bit?” He drew out the
‘e’ sound in evil. He ran his tongue over his teeth for effect. “Ask me. I know.”
Buffy leaned in. “Why are you doing this? Talking like this?” she whispered.
“This is what you’re signing up for, pet. This is me. Ask me what I know. I’m a walking, talking encyclopedia of
blood and death,” he said.
Buffy shook her head. A hollowness filled the space under her ribs. As Jack Nicholas as he sounded, she began to
get where he was heading.
William continued. “Vampires, Buffy. They’d target a hospital. What terminal patient could refuse the lure of
life eternal? Hope to the hopeless. My guess: they’d take orphanages next. Followed by homeless shelters.
Asylums. Power to the powerless.”
Dawn lifted her eyes to his. “Oh my God,” she said. “He’s building an army.”
“Who is?” Xander asked.
“All those starving nations no one ever sees,” Dawn said.
“I think you’re catching on,” William said.
Dawn nodded, fervently. “And Tara said to protect him, and Xander and Andrew. They’re all human.”
Buffy held up her hands. “Wait. Wait,” she said. “Can we stop with the Aldous Huxley here? You’re saying the
Big Bad is vampires? Those wekill, remember? It’s all in the job title.”
“Right. You handle them,” he said. William came close to her. He lowered his face to hers, their noses nearly
touching. “I bet your sweeps in Sunnydale never once included staking a child. And revenants, Buffy: Ever
encounter one of those? Vampires who lost their minds before they were turned. Different breed of animal.
They eviscerate and maim for the primal pleasure of it, drinking marrow from bones, painting their bodies with
the blood of...”
“Okay. Enough,” Xander said, peeling William away. “You’ve made your point.”
Dazed, William said, “Have I? I’m not sure that I have. Every vampire we kill equals human casualty. They were
people once, get it? Human. Like us.”
“And now they’re part of the Evil Empire,” Xander said. “Conscripted soldiers...”
“Fighting Thellian’s war,” Dawn added.
“We have to find him,” Buffy said. “We have to stop him.”
“What if it’s already too late?” Dawn asked, voice edged with desperation.
Buffy took Dawn’s hands. “It’s not,” she said, firmly. “We will find a way.”
Buffy saw the questions in Dawn’s eyes, and inwardly thanked her sister for not asking them. She wouldn’t
know how to answer; she couldn’t answer the list that was growing inside her own head.
“So,” Xander said. “I’m just gonna ask. Please don’t slam me.”
“Can’t promise,” William muttered.
Xander’s good eye twitched. “What about Angel?” he asked.
Buffy did a poor job of hiding her sudden wince. “What about him?” she asked.
“Man with connections. Man who is also a vampire,” Xander said. “He must know something,”
Buffy held her breath, considering.
“I’ll find him,” William said.
“No. It’s too dangerous,” Buffy said. “For both of you. Besides, I need you here.”
William glowered. “Need me here for what? To play nursemaid for your Watcher?”
“To patrol,” Buffy said. She flicked her eyes to meet his. “Remember?”
William breathed a wavering sigh. “Course I remember, luv. But you belong here. With him. In case he wakes
enough to jailbreak.”
Giles stirred slightly. His gown opened at the throat, exposing part of his thin chest and a crosshatching of
scratches. The white cord of Willow’s charm lay against his sallow skin.
Buffy adjusted the sheet, tucking it in around him. His mouth parted, but his eyes remained shut. She
swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said. “Guys, from now on, no one goes out alone. We’ll take shifts guarding Giles.
I’ll go first.”
“And I’ll be here for the second shift,” Xander said. “Bright and early, with coffee and cream.”
“Good,” Buffy said. “Keep your phones nearby. If you hear from Willow or Kennedy, or any of the others, let me
know. And I’ll take just cream, Xander. No coffee.”
“No coffee for Buffy?” Xander asked. “That must be a sign of the Apocalypse.”
William and Buffy exchanged a brief, beleaguered look.
Dawn said, “I can stay with you. Keep you company,” she said. “There could be card games.”
“I need you working on the Circle,” Buffy said. “Boadicea was a Slayer. The scrolls were hidden in her tomb.
There has to be a connection somehow. Find out where it fits in.”
“I will,” Dawn said. She hugged Buffy, her gangly arms fitting all the way around her sister’s narrow shoulders.
Xander and William hugged her as well, each in turn.
“Be careful,” she told them.
They swore to her they would.
Nighna raised her arms in an expansive yet fake yawn. She got to her feet.
“That’s all I know,” she said to Andrew. She looked down at his upturned face. “Find the dagger before he
does, and your friends are home free.”
Andrew seemed to consider for a long while. He relaxed his grip on Clarisse’s feathered neck.
“Peckerhead,” the bird snarled, full of more venom than he thought fowl could contain.
“I guess,” he began. His throat was dry and sticky. He tried again. “I guess you can have your bird back. She’s
pretty upset with me.”
Nighna offered a somber smile. “I think it best she stay with you,” she said. “I have told you enough tonight to
warrant the necessity of keeping us far apart. For now.”
Andrew lowered his head. “I’ve placed you in danger,” he said.
“I did that myself,” Nighna said. She laughed. It was the vocal equivalent of chocolate. “Better or worse, it’s
beyond my control. Andrew Wells.”
Nighna moved from the patch of light to dusky shadow, heading for the door.
“Uh, Nighna,” Andrew said to her back.
She paused.
“Maybe when...”
“Don’t say it,” Nighna interrupted. She continued into deeper darkness, and then was gone.
After a moment, Andrew closed the cage door. He wasn’t sure any of his actions had been good choices.
He’d learned lots, but had the feeling he had lost a lot, too.
“Bad boy,” Clarisse scolded, making it plain to him just how she felt about her present situation.
Without a word, Andrew gathered his gear and the wire-frame cage. He walked out into the still, quiet night,
feeling that everything had changed.
.Chapter Index.
Part Two: Regrets
Family
Stasis
Lost
Hunger
Wake Up Call
A Hole In The World
Fight the Fight
Demons at the Door
In Between
Triumvirate
Regroup
Tumble and Fall
Tests
Time
Change
Circle
Bloodlines
Fight or Flight
Hooks
Protection
Completion
Triangle Part One
Triangle Part Two
Triangle Part Three
Settling
Duality
Awaken
Regrets
Revelations
Ties That Bind
Grace
Evolution
Execution
Wake
Faith
Conduit
Found
Last
Fear
Full Circle
Circles, Doors & Keys
Epilogue
For Part One - Wishes
Chapter Index, click
here.
Part Two: Regrets
Family
Stasis
Lost
Hunger
Wake Up Call
A Hole In The World
Fight the Fight
Demons at the Door
In Between
Triumvirate
Regroup
Tumble and Fall
Tests
Time
Change
Circle
Bloodlines
Fight or Flight
Hooks
Protection
Completion
Triangle Part One
Triangle Part Two
Triangle Part Three
Settling
Duality
Awaken
Regrets
Revelations
Ties That Bind
Grace
Evolution
Execution
Wake
Faith
Conduit
Found
Last
Fear
Full Circle
Circles, Doors & Keys
Epilogue
For Part One - Wishes
Chapter Index, click
here.