Fanfiction: Chained Freedom

Wesley laid peacefully, slipping into slumber. The bed shifted before he felt Faith straddle his back. She trailed her fingernails up and down his bare skin as she asked, "You sleep?"

His arms crossed under his head, Wesley grunted. "Was it the serene look on my face and the closed eyes that gave me away?" he mumbled.

"Smart ass," Faith smirked.

"Remind me why I put up with you again?"

Faith shrugged. "Because I’m the only woman who will put up with your shit. Because I could hurt you if I wanted to." She leaned forward and bit his earlobe. She chuckled as he shifted underneath her. "And because the sex is amazing."

"Yes, now it’s all coming back to me," he smiled.

"Yeah, I’m sure it is. So are you up for it?"

Wesley simply grunted again.

"Come on. Don’t wimp out on me now, Pryce."

Wesley’s eyes shot open. Those words. He knew those words. "What did you say?"

He felt the bed shift again as the weight on his back disappeared. "Don’t wimp out on me now, Pryce."

Wesley turned over quickly, but by the time, he sat up, the room was empty. The scent of Faith’s lilac shampoo lingered in the air.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley opened his eyes, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. The glare of the fluorescent lights and the smell of antiseptics quickly reminded him that he was in the hospital. He glanced quickly to his right where Cordelia was asleep in her chair. Connor sat next to her, eating a candy bar and flipping through a magazine.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley looked up at the older man. He wore a lab coat over his light green scrubs, and Wesley caught a glimpse of the nametag. Faith’s doctor.

He instantly got to his feet, waking Cordelia in the process. "How is she?" he asked.

Dr. Malkin adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses upon his face. "The surgery itself was a success. There was very minimal internal damage. Luckily, the bullet missed her major internal organs."

"I hear a but coming?."

"We managed to stabilize her, but she was dead for seven minutes, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. Her brain was cut off from its oxygen supply for a significant amount of time. In these kinds of situations, people very rarely regain consciousness."

"But there’s still a chance, right?" Cordelia asked from her seat. Beside her, Connor watched helplessly, his candy bar dangling from his mouth.

"There’s always a chance," Dr. Malkin said with a nod. "These next few hours are critical. If she’s able to regain consciousness within the crucial timeframe, we’re out of the woods."

"And if not?" Wesley frowned.

"Like I said, there’s always a chance."

Connor finally spoke. "Can we go see her?"

Dr. Malkin shook his head. "Not at the moment. She’s still in the recovery room. As soon as we move her to the ICU, I’ll let you know, and you can go see her."

"Thank you, Doctor," Cordelia smiled appreciatively.

Dr. Malkin nodded and disappeared back down the hallway.

Once he was gone, Cordelia turned to Connor. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. She handed it to him as she said, "Hey, Con, why don’t you go get us all something to drink in the cafeteria?"

"Okay," he said and took the money from her hands.

Cordelia watched him leave before turning to Wesley. He sat back down in his chair with a sigh.

"You don’t have to stay, Cordelia."

"I know I don’t, but I want to. I mean, Angel hates hospitals, and Fred and Gunn really felt weird being here. But I want to be here." She smiled gently as she added, "And so does Connor. We’re not going to abandon you."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You’re welcome," she said as she gently squeezed his knee. They sat in silence for a moment before she asked, "It was Faith, wasn’t it?"

Wesley looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your rhetorical question from earlier. It was Faith. She told you she loved you."

Wesley nodded.

"And you didn’t say it back."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head.

"Wow, so you really are a guy," she smirked.

He turned to her again and Cordelia smiled softly at him in response.

"Wes, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last man to be completely dumbstruck when your girlfriend says she loves you. Especially when your girlfriend is as stoic about emotions as Faith. I mean, they base entire movies around the concept." She paused with a sigh. "Maybe you don’t tell her right at that moment, but all the matters is that you say it to her. That she knows." She hesitated before continuing. "You did get a chance, didn’t you?"

Wesley nodded and scoffed bitterly. "Right before I shot her."

Cordelia frowned as she watched Wesley slouch back into his chair. "Wes, you can’t beat yourself up. You did what you had to do to save her?."

"And in the process I’ve killed her."

"No, you haven’t. Besides being highly violent, unpredictable, and at times highly antisocial, Faith’s also a fighter. She’s not going to give up without a struggle, and she’d be extremely pissed if she knew you were giving up." Cordelia paused with a slight smirk on her face. "Now unless you want a really pissed off Slayer ghost haunting the hotel day in and day out, I advise you to suck it up and have some faith. Pun intended."

Wesley finally looked up at her and smiled despite himself. "You may have a point."

"Of course I do," Cordelia shrugged. "Now are you going to let Lilah and the Council win this battle?"

"No."

Cordelia smiled and took Wesley’s hand. "Good."

Wesley stared through the glass, debating. Barbecue chips or a candy bar. He frowned as his eyes changed focus, and he saw his reflection staring back at him. He growled at himself as he fought the urge to put his fist through the glass. Maybe if he sliced up his hand, he would finally feel something. Ever since he had shot Faith, he had felt unbelievably numb. He wanted to feel something, anything, and if it meant shedding his own blood, then so be it.

He raised his fist.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley turned to the voice, slowly dropping his arm. "Yes?"

The nurse who had spoken to him earlier approached him, a wide smile on her face. "Good news, sir."

Cordelia looked up from her magazine to see a nurse approaching Wesley. She quickly threw the magazine in his seat and went to join him.

"She’s in the ICU, and she’s asking for you," the nurse smiled.

"Asking for me?" he replied quietly, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

Hearing this, Cordelia gasped and looked at the nurse. "So that means?."

"She’s wide awake," the nurse finished happily. She looked back to Wesley as she asked, "Would you like to see her?"

Wesley laughed quietly as he looked at Cordelia. She smiled back at him and gave him a slight shove. "Well, go you idiot!"

"Follow me," the nurse said as she turned and made her way down the hallway. Cordelia smiled as she watched Wesley leave with the nurse. She returned to Connor, eager to share the good news.

"Your girlfriend is a real trooper," the nurse said as she and Wesley walked towards Faith’s room.

"She is," Wesley smiled.

"Quite honestly, considering everything she’s been through, she’s the best and fastest recovery I’ve seen in my twenty years as an RN."

Wesley listened in silence as they stood before Faith’s room. He watched her through the window, and a sense of relief washed over him as he saw her lying in the bed.

The numbness was finally disappearing.

"It’s almost like she’s superhuman," the nurse grinned.

Wesley chuckled and nodded. "Almost."

The nurse nodded back and opened the door for him. Wesley thanked her before stepping into the room. She pulled the door closed gently behind him.

Faith didn’t stir as Wesley stepped up to her bedside. He listened to the beeping of the machines as he quietly called her name. She slowly turned her head towards the sound of his voice and opened her eyes. Seeing him, a soft smile formed on her lips. "Hey."

Wesley smiled widely. He took hold of her hand, being careful of her IV lines. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

She laughed gently. "Just wondering how Buffy can do this dying thing over and over again. Because not exactly the most fun-filled experience."

Wesley laughed in response. "I hope you don’t plan to make a habit of it."

"Hey, you’re the one who shot me."

"As I recall, you told me to."

"And the one time you actually listen to me," she smirked.

"Keep in mind who tied whom to a chair and tortured them," Wesley smiled as he raised an eyebrow.

Faith grinned. "Good point. Think we’re even now?"

"More than."

Faith’s smile faded as she asked, "Did it work?"

"Yes, a new Slayer has been called."

"Lucky girl," she frowned.

"Considering everything we’ve been through tonight, I say you’re the lucky one."

Faith looked around the hospital room, her frown never fading. "Yeah, I guess."

After a moment of silence, Wesley gently squeezed her hand. "Faith, what happened?"

Her frown turned to a smirk as her eyes came back to his. "Um, you shot me, and I bled to death. You were there, babe."

Wesley rolled his eyes slightly. "No, after?. When you??"

Faith sighed gently. "Fire, brimstone, pointy forks, big guy in red spandex. The whole works. No holds barred."

"Is it possible to die and come back even more sarcastic than before?" he smirked.

"Apparently so."

Wesley simply smiled, leaned over, and kissed her forehead.

"Well, one good thing came out of all of this," she said.

"The Council will never bother you again and you’ll be able to live your life as you please?"

"Okay, make it two things then."

Wesley continued to smile at her, curious.

"Now, every time you try to make me do something I don’t want to do— like watch Old Yeller— I can lay the ultimate of guilt trips on you."

Wesley chuckled as Faith smiled brightly at him. "You’re really something, you know."

"I know. That’s why you love me despite your better judgment."

He smiled and gently lifted her hand, kissing her fingers. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. As he pulled away, he replied, "Yes, it is."

"Can we interrupt?" Cordelia asked as she knocked on the doorframe.

She and Connor stood in the doorway. Cordelia carried a small vase of flowers as Connor held a brown teddy bear which had a balloon attached to its wrist that read, "Get Well Soon!!!"

"Kick-ass," Faith smiled. "I die and I get gifts."

"I didn’t realize the gift shop was open this late?" Wesley smiled.

"It’s not," Cordelia shrugged with a smile. "The staff did us a tiny favor."

"Hi, Faith," Connor grinned as he sat the bear at the foot of her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, kid."

"The others are on their way," Cordelia said to Wesley.

He nodded and turned back to Faith, squeezing her hand again. "Faith, I need to take care of something. Will you be okay?"

Faith smiled and lifted her opposite arm. "Wes, babe, have you seen the drugs they’re slipping me. I’ll be good for a while."

Wesley laughed gently, releasing her hand. "I’ll be back." He turned to Cordelia and hugged her. "Thank you, Cordelia."

She hugged him back, grinning. "Hey, what are friends for, huh?"

He released her with a smile. He glanced at Faith who was already striking up a conversation with Connor about what it felt like to be shot.

"I’ll be back," he said to Cordelia before strolling out of the room.

Late nights. She hated them intensely, but they were a necessary evil. If working twenty-four hours around the clock proved to the Senior Partners that she was a company-gal, then that’s what she would do. Besides, now that she was finally rid of the Slayer, she could catch up on all the paperwork she had been neglecting.

Lilah flipped through the warm, freshly copied pages of her file as she opened her office door. She closed the door gently with her foot as she continued to flip through the pages.

"Burning the midnight oil?"

Lilah gasped and her papers went fluttering to the carpet. She looked up to see Wesley sitting in her chair behind her desk. He smiled at her, and she could only huff as she bent over to retrieve her papers.

"Didn’t mean to scare you," he replied.

"Did you forget who I work for?" she replied as she hastily gathered the papers. She gathered them into an unruly stack as she stood. "Takes more than that to scare me, Wesley."

Wesley simply shrugged and stood. He clasped his hands behind his back as he approached her.

"I assume this is about Faith," she frowned as she set the papers on the edge of her desk.

"Yes."

Lilah’s frown changed into a slight smirk. "Killing her was just part of the job. Hearing that you were the one who pulled it off? Now that was sheer entertainment."

Wesley chuckled softly. "She’s not dead."

The smirk faded, and the corner of Lilah’s mouth twitched. "What are you talking about? She has to be a dead. A new Slayer was called and everything."

"Yes because she did die. But a strange thing happened," he smirked. "She came back."

Lilah growled. "What the hell does it take to kill you people?"

Wesley simply laughed. "You tell me."

Before Lilah could defend herself, Wesley grabbed her and firmly held her, pressing her back into him. His arm wrapped tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. With his free hand, he held one of Faith’s favorite knives to her throat.

"Have you forgotten about my new security?" Lilah asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes, and it’s quite amusing how easily your colleagues will sell you out here," Wesley replied. "Gavin; I believe you know him. All I had to tell him was that I was here to ruin one of your little plans, and he was more than happy to disconnect the security cameras and bugs in your office."

"That little bastard," she hissed.

"Now, now, Lilah. Is that anyway to speak about colleagues?"

Lilah grimaced as Wesley dug the point of the knife underneath her chin. She felt the blood run down her neck before she felt the pain.

"You asked me one night what it felt like when Justine cut me. It was quite surreal, actually. The knife goes through your skin before you really have a chance to feel it. By the time you feel the pain, you’ve already bled out."

Lilah fought the urge to scream as he drug the knife slowly to the right. He stopped after only moving the blade merely an inch.

"Of course, that’s only if the person does it fast," he continued. "The slower the process, the more time your nervous system has to register what’s happening. Thus more pain."

"Wesley, please," Lilah pleaded through tears of pain.

"So here’s what I was thinking. Obviously, your plan failed, and I would thoroughly enjoy sharing that news with your boss. Your superiors don’t really seem like the type to keep forgiving mistakes, especially considering how many you’ve made." He paused with a shrug. "I could slit your throat right here, but what would be the fun in that? Especially when the Senior Partners could think up a punishment much bloodier and painful. Maybe even with some dismemberment involved."

Lilah remained silent, her mind drifting between Wesley and the blood washing over her neck.

"I won’t tell the Senior Partners that you not only failed but you also helped bring a third living and breathing Slayer into the world, and you’ll leave Faith alone."

"Deal," Lilah gasped. "We have a deal."

"And just so we’re clear. If you come near Faith again, or if I even think you or any of your goons are near her, I will come back here, and you will know what it felt like when Justine cut me." He paused with a smirk. "And those stains are a bitch to get out."

Wesley pushed Lilah away, and she stumbled before falling to the floor. She gingerly held her hand to her neck. She felt the blood ooze between her fingers as Wesley strolled nonchalantly out of her office.

"Have a good evening, Lilah," he called over his shoulder as he pulled her office door shut behind him.

"Maybe you could pick up the pace?"

Wesley grunted. "Maybe you could walk."

Wesley grunted again as he balanced Faith in his arms. He leaned slightly, his fingers finding the apartment doorknob. After a third attempt, he was finally able to get the knob to turn so that the door would open. He gave the apartment door a kick with a sigh.

"Dr. Malkin said I should move as little as possible," Faith grinned.

"Yes, he did, but he also doesn’t know you’re a Slayer with above-average healing capabilities," he replied as he nudged the apartment door shut with his foot.

"Are you asking me to disobey my doctor?"

"No, I’m asking you to lose a couple of pounds," Wesley smirked as he walked over to the couch.

"Um, people who were shot in the gut by their boyfriends please raise your hand," Faith said. She raised her own hand and smirked at him. Wesley simply rolled his eyes. "That’s what I thought."

Wesley helped her down onto the couch as he replied, "You know, that’s going to stop working sooner or later."

"More the reason for me to use it now," she smiled.

Wesley shook his head and started towards the bedroom. "You up for movie night?" he called down the hallway.

"When am I never up for movie night?" she called back.

When he returned, he had a videotape in one hand and a fleece blanket in the other. He draped the blanket over her as he said, "You know, we never got a chance to finish Old Yeller."

"The girl with the sucking gut wound given to her by her loving boyfriend would like to object," she smirked with a raise of her hand.

"I’m sorry. Did you say something?" Wesley smiled as he made his way to the VCR. "All I heard was this annoying buzzing sound."

"Fine, be that way," she grinned. "Just wait til I’m back up to full strength."

He placed the tape in the VCR and hit play. The tape began where they had left it, and Wesley sat down next to Faith. He propped his feet up on the coffee table as Faith sighed loudly. After a moment, she held tight to her blanket and laid down. She stretched across the couch, her head resting in Wesley’s lap.

Wesley smoothed down her hair as she held the blanket tightly around her neck. "So they really shoot the dog, huh?"

"Yes, for his own good. And when he comes back to life later in the movie, he lays a horrible guilt trip on his owners until they go insane."

"My kind of dog," Faith laughed.

"I’m sure he is, Faith," Wesley smiled as he and Faith began to watch the movie in comfortable silence.

THE END

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