Little Bitty Puzzle PiecesBy PJzallday
Reprise
"... Shanshu!" exclaimed Wes with excited wide eyes.
"Bless you," the visitor replied.
"Beg your pardon?" The darker Brit's brow knitted for a moment then softened as he chuckled. "No, not 'a-choo'. 'Shawn-shoo'. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I don't want to jump to any conclusions or make too many assumptions before we know for certain who John here is- or rather was. No offence" he said to the visitor, "but you may not have been Spike."
"Hey, none taken," John assured. "I'd be right chucked to find out I'm just a regular bloke who somehow wound up with someone else's memories or visions or what all."
"How're you gonna prove he's this Spike guy?" Gunn asked.
"Excellent question. When Darla turned up, we had Angel to verify her identity. Obviously that's not a viable option here," Wesley stated before tipping his head and shifting mental gears. "That also raises the question that even if John were Spike, is it possible he was brought back by some means other than fulfillment of the Shanshu."
"Look, I dunno about Spike or John or whoever," grumbled Faith with a nod to the fairest of the men, "but you lost me. Who's Darla? And Shawn? And what's the big about fillin' his shoes?"
"Shanshu, it's a prophecy," Wesley explained. "It tells of a vampire with a soul who would play a major role in the apocalypse. Ultimately, when he's achieved his destiny, he would become human."
"We thought it was about Angel," Gunn interjected. "Him bein' the only vampire we knew with a soul."
"Darla was Angel's sire. She was resurrected a few years ago by Wolfram and Hart in what I dare say was an attempt to gain some level of control over Angel. I've no doubt the firm also believed Angel was the prophesied vampire with a soul." With his explanation complete, Wesley paused for a moment then considered the current situation. "You know, it's odd, when I learned this past spring that Spike had acquired a soul, it never occurred to me that he might have been the prophesied vampire because we believed he... well, we thought he died in the Hellmouth."
"But maybe that's not the case," an excited Fred suggested. "Maybe John is Spike and he's been rewarded for his sacrifice!"
"Alright, let's review what we know," suggested Wes. "First, John is corporeal, therefore presumably not the First Evil. Secondly, he has a pulse, breathes and so on, so he's not a vampire. Both Faith's identification of him and this drawing suggest at very least he looks like Spike," the diligent man noted, "but since no one else — not even John himself — is able to corroborate, I'm not willing to reach that conclusion as yet. P'rhaps we should take him into Wolfram and Hart, and run some tests?"
Fred spoke up, "I'd hate to drag everyone into the office today. Truth is, I'm not crazy about being there most days, but today-"
"B'sides, you just said these Wolfram and Hart guys were tryin' to control Angel? I don't wan' to be somebody's lab rat," John insisted, "'specially not to find out I've already been somebody's lab rat."
"You probably don't gotta worry about Wolfram and Hart. We're runnin' things over there now, so..." Gunn tried to look reassuring.
"Um... not to state the obvious er anything," Faith interjected, "but why don't ya just call Buffy? If anybody's gonna know if this is Spike, she would."
"I'm not sure that's a wise idea at this point, Faith," Wesley countered. "While I don't know a great deal about their relationship, I imagine that, given her recent loss, it would be best to confirm John's identity before bringing Buffy in on the matter."
Disappointed by the man's recommendation, John gave the Slayer an appreciative nod and half-smile for her effort, which she returned.
"There has to be something we can do to at least rule out some other possibilities. What about Lorne?" Fred suggested.
"Oh! Are my ears burning?" the fatigued yet cheerful demon asked as he entered from the courtyard. "Thankfully, not literally anymore. Remind me never again to agree to read a broken-hearted Fire-thrower." Gracefully Lorne strolled over to where the group was assembled in the corner of the lobby. "So 'what about Lorne' what, Freddikins?" Taking note of the new arrivals, the demon didn't wait for a response but instead greeted, "Faith! You look fabulous! Obviously this free-agency is agreeing with you. Oh, and I see you've brought a friend." As he moved toward John, who tried to sink deeply into the couch to avoid the large green hand, Lorne tipped his head back to direct his comment to the Slayer, "He's quite the-"
"We're not friends," the two stated at once before each tried awkwardly to sound less grim.
"I mean..."
"We just... We just met," the man stammered, part afraid, part bewildered by the green-skinned creature.
"Well, sorta," Faith corrected.
"At very least, your fist 'as met my gut," John grumbled, only half-joking.
Defensively, the Slayer countered, "I just meant that I met you before, but..."
Fred jumped in to rescue the pair. "Lorne, this is John," she interjected then she and the others explained the situation. "Do you think you could try a reading?"
"Well, I suppose I could have a go. You think you're up for it, handsome?" the demon asked John, who replied simply with a fearful expression. "Hey, look, a little temple rub is about as invasive as I get — well, professionally at least," Lorne remarked with a grin as he batted his lashes. "You're not comfortable with that, you can just sing."
The nervous visitor swallowed hard. "Beg your pardon?"
"It's alright, John. Lorne's anagogic," Wesley explained. "He can read your soul, but only if you sing."
"Kind of a-" The demon shrugged. "- funny quirk."
"He might be able to tell us who you are or why you can't remember anything," Fred added encouragingly.
Recalling her past discussions with Spike, with a sly grin, Faith teased, "Don't have anything to hide do ya?"
***
Late into the night, Giles sat surrounded by files of news clippings and video tapes in dozens of languages, reams of data and correspondence from Watchers, Seers and free-lance people doing work for the Council. He'd attempted to cross-reference details and dates with dozens of books searching for explanations for the current world situation — mystic energies, demon-thralls, convergences of stars and planets, maybe even dimensions. "Damn!" he exclaimed as he slammed shut yet another thick text. "If only we had more resources..." Getting up from his chair and heading for the door, he huffed bitterly, "Damn her and that blasted spell!"
***
Some time later, John found himself seated atop a stool in the cavernous Hyperion lobby with five pairs of eyes staring at him and convinced that the pounding of his heart echoed through the whole place. Maybe he could drown it out. {{Hey Jude, don't make it bad; take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better.}}"He's pretty good," Fred whispered happily to no one in particular as he began the second verse.
A couple of the others nodded, but Lorne was deep in thought, leaning into the armrest and rubbing a finger across his pursed lips.
John shifted uneasily on the chair and glanced up at the group then quickly down to the floor. {{And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude refrain, don't carry the world upon your shoulders...}} As the visitor sang, his voice wavered. His forehead furled. His widening eyes glistened.
Gunn peered around to the others who were listening intently. He couldn't stay silent; instead he leaned back to Faith and asked, "Hey, what up wit him?"
The dark-haired woman shrugged and gave a "How the hell do I know?" expression to which Gunn replied.
"Just thought since you knew the guy..."
The sorrow John felt for his friend was overcoming him, he managed to choke out an emotion-ragged, {{And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do. The move... ment... you-}} before finally breaking down.
Lorne and Fred got up from the couches where they'd been sitting and went to John's side.
As the sympathetic woman patted the sobbing man on the back, she looked to Lorne, "Did you get anything?"
The demon rested a hand on John's shoulder. "You've had a tough time. And it doesn't take mystical powers to see you're hurting, friend. But it's the strangest thing: there's just not all that much to see."
The others looked to him for an explanation.
"Most people have a lot of baggage that comes through but John here..."
Wesley approached the group and got a better view of the scrunched look of concern on Lorne's face.
"It's as if there's a big wall blocking his past and the future... well, it's as if there's more than one. It's kinda like he's got a strong melody line with a bit of faded harmony."
"Did you get any sense that he...?" Wesley's question was obvious even without the wide suggestive eyes — and not only to Lorne.
"He doesn't know anymore than what he's told you," the demon stated as John scowled at the other man. "Or at least he believes everything's he's told you. Some of it doesn't connect, and maybe that's the reason for the future duet. You gotta find a way to break down that wall. Find a key to open that lock. Some fire to melt that i- Hey, I need a drink. You look like you could use one too, friend," Lorne said to John, taking the fragile man by the elbow and leading him to the kitchenette.
As the tall flamboyant demon dug in the fridge, John simply stood afraid to consider what he'd be offered. Vampires, demons: who knew what was in that fridge? But when the creature pulled the bottle of vodka out of the freezer, John breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sea Breeze?"
"Thanks, no. But the Stolichnaya..." John raised an eager brow. "I could do with a straight shot."
Lorne poured a generous splash and handed the shaken man the glass. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the whole group, but your friend... Lady-friend, the one that's been such a part of your life the last while... I'm sorry."
"What's that now?" John asked before downing the shot.
"I'm sorry about what happened to her," the demon elaborated. "Sorry that she died."
"Ju...?" Stunned, John dropped the glass which shattered at his feet. "Bloody he-" he choked as he grabbed his head, pushing his fingers up through his hair then scraping the nails across his scalp to curl his hands into fists. Devastated, he slid down the wall.
Before the man fell to the floor, Lorne grabbed him to hold him up out of the shards of glass. "Come on. Let's get you outta here."
When the pair appeared back in the lobby, the others were concerned about the state of the visitor.
"Guess I can't hold my liquor," he said hoping to calm them.
"Lorne, could you contact that friend of yours? The one who deals in memory spells," Wesley suggested. "P'rhaps she could-"
"Hey, lets not go repeatin' what happened the last time," Gunn grumbled.
"I've got a better idea," Lorne said cavalierly. "Why don't we take him into Wolfram and Hart and have the Psyche Department remove his block?" To which everyone had a reply.
"Beg your pardon?"
"What?"
"Not sure I'm likin' the sound of that, mate."
"Huh?"
"That firm might be evil-" Lorne caught the look of apprehension that immediately crossed John's face. "Might have been evil," he corrected, "but they sure know a thing or two about efficiency. They pull out all sorts of things-" He'd done it again, he realized as John swallowed hard. "Shyness. Fear of the dark. Carpal tunnel syndrome."
Fred chimed in, "I heard that Madeline Chu in accounting, she had her ennui removed."
"There you go. I'm sure they can take out whatever it is that's blocking your memory. You'll be in and out in twenty minutes. And the best thing..."
"No scarring?" Faith joked.
"Besides that," the demon replied with a grin. "If afterward you find out that ignorance really was bliss, they can always shove the block right back in."