Little Bitty Puzzle PiecesBy PJzallday
Re-assemble
"So ah... what do we do now?" inquired John from where he'd been seated in the dentist-style chair.
One of the lab-coats handed him a clipboard and a pen. "Before we get started, we'll need you to fill out some forms."
John turned to the man and raised an inquisitive brow.
"Standard legal waiver," the man explained, "and some basic health forms. Just some questions about your general health and medical history."
"Ah..." John held his shoulders in a shrug.
"Yes, Mr. Smith, we realize that part of your trouble is you don't remember your life. Do the best you can," the man suggested. "It's all just a technicality anyway. The procedure is harmless. Well... pretty much."
Taking a hard gulp for courage, John set to completing the forms while the two Wolfram and Hart Psyche Department technicians wired him to monitors and checked their equipment.
"Yeah, well... Looks like you guys got everything under control here." Pointing a fist with an outstretched thumb toward the door, Faith said, "I'm gonna go see how Wes is doin'."
"Hang on. I'll come with." Turning to Fred and John, Gunn explained, "I've got some stuff to check on in my office."
"No worries, mate." John wasn't sure he really wanted a room full of people around while his brain was getting sucked out, so he didn't mind the others with their excuses.
"We're ready," the technician stated.
"Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this, John?" asked Fred with concern.
"Don't really have much left in this life," John replied with a sad matter-of-factness as he thought of Jude. "Kinda need to know what happened in my other." He leaned forward in his chair to peer around the slender woman at the technician. "Let's do this," John said, holding out the clipboard.
After taking the forms and handing them to his associate, the lab tech strapped John's arms to the rests of the chair. "It's just a precaution; we don't want you to jerk around and disconnect the equipment." When he'd fastened John's head-support, the technician turned to Fred. "Ah... Ms. Burkle?" He motioned with a few waves of his hand for Fred to step clear of the procedure space as the man at the computer began to press buttons and flip switches.
John sat nervously waiting for something to happen, wondering if whatever these quacks were going to do to him would work; wondering who he'd be when they were finished. Suddenly, an alarm went off; John, but for the restraints, would have leapt from the seat.
"Sorry. Special ring for some of my more high-maintenance clients." Lorne grimaced as he pulled his cell-phone from his suit jacket pocket. "Whitney honey," he greeted the caller while apologizing again to John with a half-smile and a shrug. "Yeah, I've got a team on that," he assured as he headed for the door, "but I'm not a miracle worker..."
John sighed then settled back into the chair, but was far from relaxed when the technician announced, "Here we go. In three... Two... One..."
***
As the anticipated dozen Watchers' Council meeting attendees took their seats around the table, Dawn and the office administrator confirmed the computer links of those participating in the meeting via web-cams.With a nod from the young women, Andrew positioned himself at the head of the room. In front of him on the table was a neatly arranged stack of colour coordinated cue cards, some folders and an assortment of dry-erase markers; behind him on the wall, his map series; at easy access, he had a pair of large white-boards on wheels; in his hand, he held a laser pointer. Dressed in a three piece wool tweed suit, linen shirt and plaid tie, he was ready. "Tweed's kinda ichy," he muttered under his breath before clearing his throat. "I'd like to thank you all for being here. I know for some of you, it wasn't easy getting here. Mr. Mabbissi." He nodded appreciatively to one of the computers. "Ms. Chen..." Andrew greeted several others before finishing with, "Mr. Wydam-Pryce, thanks for joining us."
Reaching for one of the folders, the young man said, "I hope you've all received copies of my- er... ah... the Council's year-end report." He grinned abashedly, glancing over at Mr. Giles who appeared unconcerned by the slip. "It details the circumstances surrounding the creation of the new Slayers and the new Council, and it-"
With a thud of her bag against the doorframe and a rattle of the window-glass, Buffy stumbled into the meeting chamber. "Sorry," she mumbled half-heartedly.
"Oh, Buffy. I'm glad you made it." Andrew beamed. "Everyone, this is Buffy Summers: the woman without whom none of us would be here today." The young man encouraged a brief round of applause before pointing to an available seat in which the Slayer could sit.
"As I was saying, the package you've received discusses how the new Slayers were activated and outlines what the Council has done since then. There's a section which includes world sector maps like these," he explained waving his laser pointer at the six large maps. "If you'll direct your attention to Map A-One... This is an approximation of the Slayer-slash-Demon situation shortly after the Sunnydale Hellmouth was collapsed. For the most part, we didn't know about Slayers besides the ones that actually came out of the Hellmouth. I mean, we knew others probably existed, but we didn't know any details. Map A-Two, shows the situation at the beginning of June after we'd contracted with the Westbury Coven to formally seek out new Slayers. You'll note the marked increase in both the total number of Slayers and in the number the Council had been in contact with."
Andrew was very serious during his presentation which amused Dawn since his maps included happy-face stickers with bloody fangs or horns scribbled onto them and he directed attention to various points on the map as if he were a game-show prize girl showing off new stereo equipment or a dining room suite.
"Map A-Three shows the state of the world after two months of the new Council's... ah... control. A-Four is two months later — or four months after the current Council was established." The illustration showed still more identified Slayers and a decrease in the demon population particularly in large urban areas. "This one, A-Five, is pretty much current. And Map A-Six gives an estimate of what the world may be like some time in the future." Again more Slayers and still fewer demons. There was an impressed buzz in the air as various attendees commented to their seatmates.
"Um... Before we get too... ah... I think..." Andrew stammered, nervous about the less-than-positive news to come. "Ah... maybe we should take a look at the details in your packages..."
***
It all came so quickly. Literally with the flip of a switch (or two or three), 150 years of memories flooded his mind. A great jumble of images and emotions. Highs and lows. Violent and tender. Drusilla. Buffy. Angel. Countless nameless victims. Dawn. Jude. His mum. Instinctively, he tried to grab his head as he closed his eyes to stop the barrage, but with his arms strapped to the chair he couldn't move and closing his eyes did nothing to eliminate the visions. He was shrieking — and didn't even realize it. He couldn't hear or see anything but his memories."What the heck's happening to him?" Fred demanded of the technicians. "Stop this! Stop it now!"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Burkle. There's nothing we can do."
"We can't abort the procedure midstream," the man at the computer explained. "Doing so might cause irreparable damage. You have to realize that Mr. Smith here is being opened up to years of memories in a very short time."
"You ever see the Matrix?" the other man asked. "I expect it's kinda like that... only without the kung fu."
He paused then his associate speculated, "Hey... What if there is kung fu?"
"Good thing we've got him pinned down."
The pair of lab techs chuckled, but Fred wasn't amused.
"But you're not putting anything in his head?" she asked suspiciously.
"Oh no. We're just removing the memory block," the tech assured. "But to him it's going to seem similar."
"A big rush of information," the other added. "When the procedure's completed, I'd recommend a sedative. Some good solid sleep and he should wake up fine."
The screaming was replaced by heavy gasps for breath then the tension appeared to ease from John's body.
"We're just about done here," the computer technician said as he turned back to his control panel. After a nod, his colleague went removing the electrodes and other equipment from their subject.
At the feel of someone's touch, John's wild eyes flew open and he jolted, causing the restraints to dig into the flesh of his forearms. He hissed partly out of fear, partly pain.
"John?" Fred cooed softly. "It's OK... You take it easy now. Everything's gonna be fine."
His eyes darted around the room as he desperately tried to orient himself. John. Spike. William. His three incarnations were colliding — and all of them were freaking out.
"Holy shit!" exclaimed the technician with exaggerated facial movement. "Look, Ms. Burkle. Like I said: a sedative would be a good idea. Let him sleep it off."