Fanfiction: Chained Freedom
"You’re sure, Wesley?" Angel asked from his spot at the hotel counter next to Cordelia. Gunn stood next to the settee as Faith sat, flanked by Connor and Fred. Wesley, who stood in the center of the lobby, turned to Angel and Cordelia.
"Very sure."
"But I still slay," Faith countered, looking towards Wesley for support. "It’s not like I’m sitting on my ass watching Oprah all damn day. I’m still out there busting my ass for them."
"It doesn’t matter, Faith," he replied with a shake of his head.
"Bullshit," she fumed, getting to her feet. "Why should I have to join them if I’m doing fine by myself?"
"Because an inactive Slayer is a dead Slayer," he sighed.
Faith crossed her arms, the anger etched across her face. "So? what? I don’t do it so they put a damn hit out on me?"
"If you recall, they have done it before, Faith."
"But? but I was different then. I’m not that same person they tried to kill before."
Gunn raised a finger as he interrupted the conversation. "I know I’m new to this Council-Slayer crap, but here’s my question. Faith’s been out for what? A few months now? So, why are these guys showing up now? Wouldn’t they have been back the day she got out?"
"It’s almost like somebody tipped them off or something," Cordelia added.
Wesley instantly turned to her as her words struck a nerve. He looked at each of his friends as he replied, "I’ll be back."
"Where are you going?" Faith asked as he quickly made his way to the door.
He turned to her with a soft smile. "I’ll be back." The smile faded as he continued, "Promise me you’ll stay here."
Faith smirked in response. "Let’s see— the Council apparently has a bounty on my head as we speak so I don’t think I’m gonna be going far."
Wesley simply nodded before disappearing through the door.
"Miss Morgan, your noon is here."
Lilah looked at the intercom, her brow furrowing. "My noon?" she replied and reached for her appointment book. She flipped to the day’s log and ran her finger down the schedule. "Beverly, I don’t have a noon appointment."
"He says it’s about a certain woman you two have in common."
Lilah smirked and closed her appointment book, triumphantly. "Send him in please, Beverly."
Lilah sat back in her chair as Wesley strode into her office. He slammed the office door shut, and she simply watched him, the smirk turning to a proud smile.
"Hello, Wesley. What a lovely surprise this is."
"I’m not in the mood for your games right now, Lilah."
"Games?" She batted her eyes innocently. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wesley. Wolfram and Hart and I have both been on our very best behavior."
Wesley simply watched her as she picked up a pen and began to twirl it between her fingers.
"So, how’s that new girlfriend of yours? She doing okay?"
Wesley smirked. "How’s your face? I heard she did a real number on you."
"Well," Lilah shrugged, "we each bear our scars, now don’t we?" She gently trailed her pen across her throat from ear to ear.
Wesley’s frown returned. "Call it off, Lilah."
"I’m sorry?"
"Whatever deal you made with the Council to get rid of Faith, call it off."
"Now, now, Wesley." Lilah leaned forward, trailing the base of her pen back and forth across the polished oak of her desk. "I can’t renege on this deal. That would be highly unprofessional of me."
Wesley approached the desk. He leaned against it, aggressively. "I’ll show you unprofessional."
Lilah laughed gracefully. "I’ll just warn you now that I’ve increased my security since your girl paid me a visit. Before you could lay a finger on me, you’d be a bloody heap on my carpet. And those stains are a bitch to get out."
"What do you want, Lilah? What information in my head do you want because I’ll give it to you?."
Lilah sat back with a sigh, and Wesley took a step away from her desk. "This isn’t about you, Wesley. For once, this is only about Faith."
"I’ll only tell you once more, Lilah. Call it off."
Lilah chuckled. "You can tell me as many times as you wish, Wesley, but the deal still stands. I want the girl’s blood. The Council wants the girl’s blood. So guess what, Wesley? We’ll get the girl’s blood."
"We will fight back," he declared.
"Oh, I’m counting on it. That’s what makes it so much fun." She leaned forward again, grabbing a file that rested upon her desk. She casually flipped it open as she looked back up at Wesley. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, Wesley. I have some work I need to be doing."
Wesley growled at her in response and stormed out of the office.
Once he was gone, Lilah reached for her phone and dialed. "Yes, Mr. Travers, this is Lilah. There’s been a change in plans. Drop the proposition charade because we’re finishing this deal right now."
"I can’t do this," Faith fumed as she paced the lobby. "I can’t just sit around on my ass like some damsel in distress. I need to do something."
Fred watched her silently from her seat upon the hotel counter, Gunn leaning beside her.
From her desk, Cordelia watched Faith walk back and forth. "And what are you supposed to do, Faith? We don’t know who these guys are. We don’t know what they look like. Hell, we don’t even know if they’re really here to kill you."
Faith growled loudly and walked back to the settee, flopping down next to Connor who nibbled on a doughnut. He reached inside the box at his feet and handed Faith a chocolate glazed doughnut. She smiled in appreciation as she took the it from his hands. She picked at it for a moment before looking at her watch.
She looked up towards the hotel door as she asked, "Where the hell is Wes? He should be back by now."
"Faith, I’m sure he’s fine," Cordelia replied. "He’ll probably come strolling through that door any minute now."
With that, the hotel door opened and Wesley walked in.
Everyone looked towards Cordelia who simply gave a half-smile and a shrug of her shoulders. "What can I say? I’m good."
Faith approached Wesley, pushing his shoulder hard. "I was starting to get worried," she frowned.
"Ow," he replied as he touched his shoulder.
"Where did you go?"
"Something Cordelia said made sense," he replied.
Cordelia approached the lobby as she smirked, "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t sound so surprised by that, Wesley."
"You said that someone tipped the Council off to Faith’s release, and when you said that, I knew exactly who would do it."
Faith crossed her arms. "It was that bitch, wasn’t it?"
"Lilah, yes."
"I should have killed her when I had the chance."
"But killing a human would be wrong and against everything we stand for," Fred replied as she nodded towards Connor. The boy simply raised an eyebrow in response.
Faith scoffed as she turned to Fred. "Yeah, when did Lilah start qualifying as a human?"
"So what do the mega-evil lawyer and the Council have planned?" Cordelia asked.
"The Council is working with Wolfram and Hart?" Angel asked as he descended the staircase.
"It appears that way," Wesley answered as Angel sat next to Connor. "Lilah wants you out of her hair, Faith, and it seems that the Council is only more than happy to help."
"The deader, the better, huh?" she frowned.
"My men know the rules, and yours?" Lilah asked.
Riding in the passenger seat of the military jeep, Lilah checked her watch as she spoke with Quentin on her cell. Hopefully, in approximately thirty minutes, her life would be less one Slayer. And Lilah could barely wait.
"The rules?" came Quentin’s voice.
Lilah sighed in response. "The target is Faith, no one else. I know your men can get a little stake-happy, but no one is to kill Angel. Maim him, bludgeon him, torture him however you please, but he’s not to be dusted in any form. If he dies, your Elite Team will be going back to merry ol’ England in body bags."
"My men understand completely, Miss Morgan."
"Great," she smiled. "Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?"
"So what are we supposed to do?" Faith asked. "Because them killing me is not an option."
"If it comes down to it, we could always fight," Wesley shrugged.
"Fighting’s good," Connor perked up.
"Or you could run," Gunn said from his spot at the counter. Faith turned to him, eyes angry. "Run? What kind of plan is that?"
"It’s the kind of plan where none of us get hurt or killed. It’s the kind of plan that makes sense."
"I’m not running," Faith replied harshly. "You want to run like some little girl, fine, but I’m not."
"Fine by me," he shot back, "Because you know what? Ain’t my fight."
Fred rolled her eyes as everyone began to yell at each other. Sick of hearing them argue, she slid off the counter and made her way towards the front door.
Fresh air. She’d step outside, get some fresh air, and take in the peace of nature. Maybe watch the sun set into the horizon. Then, she’d be ready to step back into the minefield that had become the hotel.
The door only opened halfway before she stopped, her heart dropping in her chest.
Situated just outside the hotel, nearly two dozen men, give or take, finished strapping on their military gear. Off to the side, Fred caught a glimpse of Lilah speaking with an older man, dressed as if he were on his way to a very important board meeting.
Fred instantly shut the door and stumbled back into the lobby where the chaos continued. She stepped into the center of the commotion and raised her hands up in the air as she fought for everyone’s attention. "Guys! Problem!" she screamed.
Everyone stopped fighting and looked at her.
"You may want to decide on a plan within the next five seconds because they’re here," she frowned as she lowered her arms. "They’re here and they’re armed."
"And the plan would be what exactly? Besides not getting killed?" Gunn asked.
Angel reached into the weapons cabinet, grabbed a battling axe, and tossed it to Gunn. "The plan is we stall. Long enough for Wes to get Faith out of here."
"No," Faith declared from over his shoulder. "No, I’m staying. I’m not letting these assholes do this to me again. They ran me out of Sunnydale. They’re not doing this to me again."
"Faith," Angel sighed as he grabbed a sword for himself and one for Cordelia. "You don’t really have a choice in the matter. You either leave or you die."
"We’ll leave," Wesley finally said, stepping up beside Faith.
Faith turned to him. "But, Wes?."
"We’ll take the tunnel in the basement," he continued. "Get back to the apartment, grab some money and things, and just leave."
"Fine," she finally agreed.
"So go," Angel ordered.
Wesley and Faith exchanged a look. Before they could move, the doors of the hotel flew open violently, the sound echoing through the hotel. The men filed in through the front door as others came charging down the hotel staircase.
"Remind me to get a security system for this place," Cordelia frowned as she watched the intruders make their way down the stairs.
"GO!" Angel barked.
Faith and Wesley took off for the basement. Wesley stopped momentarily to remove the last sword from the weapons cabinet as Faith continued on. She ran to the basement door and yanked it open.
The barrel of the man’s handgun rested between her eyes.
"Target acquired," the man said into his headset.
"Target pissed," Faith growled and grabbed the man’s arm, twisting until she heard the bones snap. The gun clattered to the ground as the man screamed in pain. Faith punched him hard, and he launched headfirst down the basement stairs.
Wesley ran up to her and grabbed her arm. "Let’s go," he instructed and started down the staircase.
Faith remained where she stood, her eyes on the gun at her feet.
"Faith!" Wesley called up to her as he stopped midway on the staircase.
She instantly turned her eyes to him. "Yeah, I hear ya."
He motioned for her to get a move on, and as he glanced back into the basement, Faith covertly picked up the gun. She slid the gun into the back waist of her jeans, tugging her shirt over to conceal it, and ran down the staircase to join him. He took her hand, and they took off, listening to the commotion that was happening upstairs.
Faith hoped they would be okay, even Gunn, as she and Wesley made their way to the tunnel.
They were being followed, and their pursuers were getting ever closer.
His hand still wrapped tightly with Faith’s, Wesley could hear the echoes of their footsteps. It was hard to tell which direction they were coming from at times. The tunnel system made every sound seem like it was right there with you.
But he knew they were giving chase, and he knew they were close. He and Faith needed to get out from underground. Underground they only had a few places to run, to hide.
Sunlight in the distance. He could see the ladder coming up in the distance, leading back to the surface. This was their chance.
"The ladder, Faith! Go!" he whispered.
Their grip to each other final dissolved as she ran to the ladder and climbed up. She lifted up the grate with a groan as Wesley stood at the bottom of the ladder, waiting. If they came now, he would be ready for them. He would keep them off until Faith got away. He would make sure of it.
"Wesley!" Faith whispered.
He finally looked up. She kneeled over the edge of the manhole, her hand held down for him. Wesley took another look down the darkened tunnels, the sound of heavy footfalls continuing to bounce off the tunnel walls. He turned back to the ladder and made his way up to join her.
Wesley pulled himself into the alleyway with Faith, and she instantly grabbed his hand. She led the way as they ran towards the end of the alley. She stopped as soon as they reached the street.
"Faith, we need to keep going," he gasped between gulps of air.
"No," she shook her head as she looked towards the abandoned store in front of them.. "No, I’m tired of running."
The windows and door of the former music store were tightly boarded. Faith stepped up to the door and began ripping away the boards with her hands, and the brittle wood collapsed under her strength. Wesley could only watch her, his eyes darting from her to the alley and back again.
As she removed the last board and kicked the door in with one hit, she smiled at him and motioned for him to follow her.
Wesley knew they had to keep moving. If they stopped, they would be found, and she would die. He wanted to scream at her, to ask her why she was doing this, but he knew that she had her reasons. Whatever those reasons were, he’d stay with her. He’d protect her to the end. He would not abandon her like everyone else in her life. Never.
Wesley ran into the store, and Faith—who had already made her way across the desolate building— motioned him again. She opened a door that appeared to lead into the former storage room, and he followed her inside.
Faith closed the door and locked it securely.
"Faith," Wesley pleaded as he leaned his sword against a nearby shelf, "we need to get you out of here. There’s too many of them for us to take on by ourselves."
"I know," she said quietly, her hands flat against the door.
"They’re going to kill you."
"An inactive Slayer is a dead Slayer," she mumbled. She finally turned and approached him. "Wes, you know I trust you, right?"
"I know."
"Good." Faith reached behind her back and removed the handgun she had had concealed.
Wesley looked at her with wide eyes as she handed the gun over to him. "What? what is this, Faith?"
"If I can’t be a Slayer on my own terms, then I won’t be a Slayer at all."
Wesley looked down at the gun, his hands shaking. "You want me to?." He stopped, unable to finish the sentence. He looked back up at Faith, hoping she was not asking for what he thought she was.
"They want a new Slayer, Wes, so I’m gonna let them have a new Slayer."
"No," he said firmly, holding the gun out for her to take. "No, I’m not going to do it. I can’t do it."
Faith stepped closer to him, taking his face in her hands. "It only takes a few minutes, right? If I’m gone for a few minutes, that’s enough time for a new one to be called. Isn’t that the deal?"
"Yes, Faith, but?."
"No buts, Wesley?."
"But we can just get out of here. Get out of LA."
"No, I’m tired of running. I just want to live my life, and they won’t let me unless a new Slayer is called."
"But Faith?."
She shushed him, placing a finger against his lips. "I trust you. I trust you to do this. If they kill me, that’s it. It’s over. But I know you. You’ll bring me back. You won’t let me go that easily."
"Faith, I don’t think I can do this," Wesley replied, his eyes beginning to burn from the oncoming tears.
"Don’t wimp out on me now, Pryce," she smirked.
Pounding at the door broke their conversation. Both turned to the door as it seemed on the verge of breaking from the force.
"Faith," he whispered.
"Please, Wes," she pleaded, her voice breaking as her own tears began to fall. "You have to do this."
Wesley reached up with his free hand and gently stroked Faith’s face. "You know I love you, right?"
Faith smiled, swallowing hard to steady her voice. "I love you, too."
"Faith, I?."
"Just promise you won’t let me go," she said quietly.
"I promise," Wesley replied and kissed her. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Faith’s for a moment. "I love you," he whispered.
"I know," she cried.
The blast echoed eerily in the empty storage room.
Faith’s eyes opened wide in pain. She placed a hand to her wounded stomach before looking back up at Wesley, a slip of a thankful smile on her lips. She collapsed into his arms as the Elite Team finally busted down the door.
The trio of armed men stopped when they saw Wesley on the floor, Faith’s crumpled and bleeding body in his arms. His arms wrapped tightly around her. One hand covered her wound while the other held onto her wrist, feeling her rapid and weakening pulse.
Quentin pushed through the men to examine the scene himself. He nodded in approval as he said, "Well, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, it appears you’re a team player after all."
Wesley looked up at him, his face streaked with tears. "Fuck you, Travers," he growled.
"I am sorry it had to come to this, Wesley," Quentin replied, "But we have a business to run. We have people to save. Apocalypses to stop. For us, an inactive Slayer?."
"Is a dead Slayer," Wesley finished bitterly. "Yes, I know the damn motto. Well, congratulations, you’ve got yourself a new Slayer on the way."
Quentin simply nodded, reached into his jacket pocket, and removed his cell phone.
Wesley looked down at Faith, and he could feel the warm rush of her blood seeping through his slacks. Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. His hand continued to hold tightly to her wrist as her pulse seemed to become more faint.
I’m not going to let you go, Faith.
Quentin sighed, hung up his phone, and placed it back inside his pocket. "Not quite yet, Wesley. Your girl appears to be holding on."
Wesley simply looked up at the man.
"Are you certain you don’t want us to speed up the process? I’m quite sure she’s suffering more this way."
Wesley removed his bloody hand from Faith’s stomach and grabbed the gun at his side. "Touch her, and I will not hesitate to place a bullet in your skull," he snarled.
Quentin held up his hands. "I just thought that maybe that would be better for the both of you."
"No, you thought it’d be better for the Council," he spat. "Hasn’t that always been the way, Travers? What’s good for the Council is good for the world. Screw everyone else you have to maim and kill on the path to justice, right?"
Before Quentin could reply, his cell phone rang. He retrieved it from his pocket with a sigh. "Quentin Travers," he said. "Yes?. Yes?. Thank you."
He hung up the phone with a triumphant smile. "Thank you for your help, Wesley."
Instantly, Wesley dropped the gun and placed his hand to Faith’s throat. "No," he whispered as he searched frantically for a pulse of any kind.
While he fussed with Faith, one of Elite came up and grabbed the gun. Wesley simply watched him take the gun and walk away as Quentin explained, "We’d hate for you to be placed in jail for murder."
As he and the Elite Team strolled out of the storage room, Quentin called over his shoulder, "I hope to work with you again, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce."
Instantly, Wesley reached for his cell phone and dialed 911.
I’m not letting go, Faith, he thought.
"Sir, would you like something clean to wear?" the nurse asked.
Wesley did not respond. Slouched in the unforgiving plastic chair, his eyes remained focused on his lap. On her blood that stained him through to his skin. Covered in blood that he wished were his own, he clenched his fists tightly.
The nurse watched him for a moment, not sure what else to say. She cleared her throat before asking again, "Sir?"
Wesley finally looked up at her, his face pale and eyes tired.
"I could get you some clean scrubs if you like," she said, smiling kindly down at him.
"No," Wesley replied with a slight shake of his head. "No, I’m fine. Thank you." He pulled himself upright in the chair. "How is she?"
The nurse’s smile began to fade. "They had to stabilize her before they could proceed with surgery. They were able to get her blood pressure up high enough so they could proceed."
The nurse watched as Wesley dropped his head into his hands.
"Sir, she’s a very lucky woman. She was technically dead for nearly ten minutes. Not too many people come back from that."
He sighed and looked back up at her. "Will she regain consciousness?"
The nurse shifted uncomfortably. "Dr. Malkin will be able to tell you about her progress as soon as the surgery is complete."
Wesley laughed bitterly. "I’ll take that as a no."
The nurse frowned. "The doctor will be able to clear everything up, sir. I promise."
Wesley nodded and slouched back into his chair.
The nurse hesitated before continuing, "Sir, I know it isn’t my place to say, but if you lose hope now, she has no chance."
Wesley could only nod as the nurse disappeared down the hallway.
Faith had no chance because he had taken it away from her. Hope had nothing to do with it. It was the bullet he had let rip through her body that had taken away her chance?.
"Wesley?"
He didn’t stir at the voice. He remained seated, his head back against the cold wall and his eyes looking off into the distance.
"Wes?"
Cordelia moved to sit beside him, but stopped short when she saw his blood-stained clothing. The others remained behind her as she slowly sat beside him. As she reached to gently touch his hands, she noticed more blood. Cordelia frowned and took a gentle hold of Wesley’s wrist.
"Wesley?"
He slowly turned his head towards her in acknowledgement.
"Wes, why are you covered in blood?" Cordelia asked cautiously. "Is Faith?? Is she??"
"You weren’t followed, I presume," Wesley simply replied.
"Weird thing," Gunn said from over Cordelia’s shoulder. "We were just in the middle of kicking some Elite ass when they backed off for no reason."
Fred, who held tightly to Gunn’s hand, added quietly, "And then you called us."
"They had a reason for backing away," Wesley said gruffly as he sat up again. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs as he clasped his hands together.
"They killed her, didn’t they?" Angel said as Connor sat down next to Cordelia. "That’s why they backed down. A new Slayer was called."
"Yes, but they didn’t kill her?. I did," he whispered.
Cordelia frowned and gently rubbed Wesley’s back. "I know it seems that way now, Wes, but you didn’t kill Faith?."
He laughed quietly, and for a moment Cordelia wondered if he was crying. He turned to her as he replied, "Cordelia, I killed Faith. I’m the one who pulled the trigger. I? I killed Faith."
Cordelia’s hand stopped over his spine. "What? You shot her?!"
He nodded and turned his eyes back to the tiled hospital floor.
Cordelia glanced up at the others, and they could only return her look of utter shock. She looked back at Wesley as she asked warily, "Can I ask why?"
"Because she asked me to," he sighed. "She believed in me. She thought I’d be able to bring her back, that if the Council did it, they would finish the job."
"So you shot her to save her?" Fred asked meekly.
Wesley simply ran a hand through his hair.
"Wesley, is she dead?" Cordelia asked, bracing herself for the news as she felt the muscles in his back tense under her fingertips.
"I don’t know. She was?. She was gone for seven minutes or so. Dead, but? but they brought her back. She’s in surgery right now."
"And her chances?"
He shrugged.
Fred mumbled to herself. "With that kind of cut off of oxygen to the brain?." She stopped thinking aloud as everyone but Wesley turned to look at her. Fred frowned as she read everyone’s faces. "Was I thinking out loud again?"
Cordelia shot the girl a "shut up, Fred!" look as Gunn pulled at Fred’s hand. "Why don’t we go get something to drink?" he said as he pulled her away. "Connor, you want to come?"
Connor glanced at Cordelia and Wesley before turning to Angel. "Go ahead," Angel replied gently and the boy took off after Gunn and Fred.
Angel hovered for a moment before sitting in the chair Connor had vacated.
The three sat in silence for a moment before Cordelia sighed and leaned into Wesley. She rested her chin on his shoulder as she said quietly, "She’ll be okay, Wes. I know it."
"How do you know?" Wesley asked as he buried his face in his hands.
She smiled gently. "Because I’m Cordelia. That’s how."
Wesley nodded and smiled in appreciation.