Headful of Ghosts, pt 17
Sep. 2nd, 2005 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wesleysgirlDoyle stops when they step outside and looks around with dismay. "What happened? Where is everyone?"
"Dead," Xander says, his voice soft but flat. He shrugs like it doesn't matter. "I don't know. I mean, it was some kind of apocalypse thing, I guess, but it all happened so fast that there's no way to know for sure." That wasn't totally true -- Willow had managed to find out a few things with the help of some spells, but Xander hadn't really understood what she was saying when she'd tried to explain between gasps and hands clutching at his. He clenches his fists now, remembering, and chokes back a cry as his broken bones flare into fire.
"But Angel's okay?" Doyle asks.
Xander starts walking, and Doyle falls into step beside him. "Depends on your definition of okay."
"He's why I'm back," Doyle says. "I don't know anything else, but I know that much. I can feel it."
"Trust me, that's a mistake," Xander says. Off of Doyle's confused glance, he clarifies, "Feeling things. It's better if you don't."
"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." Doyle sounds determined, confident. Xander wonders how long he'll be able to stay like that. "So what's wrong with Angel? Is he hurt?"
"Not exactly." Xander thinks about it. "Well, maybe. Kind of. In the head. He's kind of... crazy."
"What about Cordelia?"
Xander's rhythm doesn't falter; one foot in front of the other, just like in that animated Santa Claus movie with the penguin. And wow does his mind go to strange places sometimes. "She's dead," he says. "She died a couple of months ago."
Doyle's response to that is complete silence, which is okay with Xander, because if they're quiet he can hear if there's anything trying to sneak up on them.
"What do you mean, crazy?" Doyle asks finally.
"Crazy," Xander says. "Raving lunatic, psychotic killer crazy. Like Angelus, only he's not. That's what Spike says, anyway, and I guess he'd know."
"Spike?" Doyle sounds surprised. "Yeah, I guess he would, considering the last time I saw him he had Angel chained up and had been sticking him like a pincushion."
Xander winces -- being stuck like a pincushion strikes a little too close to home, and he doesn't feel like being reminded. "He has a soul now."
"So do serial killers, and it doesn't seem to do any of them a lot of good," Doyle points out.
"This one does, apparently. Maybe Spike got it zapped in from somewhere else. Like Gandhi, or someone." Xander glances to the right as they walk out between two buildings, but there's nothing.
Nothing is good. He likes nothing.
"Somehow I think Gandhi would want to keep his," Doyle says.
Xander remembers something. "Came back from where?" he asks.
"What?" Doyle says.
"You said you came back. Came back from where?"
Doyle shrugs. "Wherever I was. Dead, mostly."
"Huh." Xander thinks about that. "Buffy came back, too. Willow brought her back."
"Buffy... that's Angel's ex?" Doyle turns around and starts to walk backward next to Xander, which is probably a good idea.
"Yeah. She's... well, probably dead. Again. Pretty much everyone is, at this point." Xander sighs. "Look, can we not talk about these depressing subjects and instead concentrate on the different but equally depressing topic of how we're going to deal with Angel? Because I'm thinking staking sounds pretty good."
"No," Doyle says. "I can handle him. Trust me; I know him. He'll listen to me."
"You haven't seen him," Xander says.
"He'll listen," Doyle repeats stubbornly.
"Whatever you say. But if he gets close enough for me to do it, I'll dust him." Xander gestures with the stake in his hand, which is awkward because it's his left and he's a righty.
"It won't come to that. I can take him." Doyle grins. "I'm stronger than I look."
They get within sight of the hotel. "There it is," Xander says, pointing with the stake.
"Inviting," Doyle says.
"It doesn't have to be. We're not vampires." It's a pretty shitty attempt at a joke, but they exchange smiles anyway.
Outside the door, Doyle pauses long enough to say, "I don't even know your name."
"Oh, sorry. Xander. Harris." Xander looks at his hand. "I'd offer to shake, but somehow I think our ability to sneak up on them would be hampered by the screaming."
"Don't worry," Doyle says, and Xander wonders if he's always this disgustingly cheerful. "Come on."
"Dead," Xander says, his voice soft but flat. He shrugs like it doesn't matter. "I don't know. I mean, it was some kind of apocalypse thing, I guess, but it all happened so fast that there's no way to know for sure." That wasn't totally true -- Willow had managed to find out a few things with the help of some spells, but Xander hadn't really understood what she was saying when she'd tried to explain between gasps and hands clutching at his. He clenches his fists now, remembering, and chokes back a cry as his broken bones flare into fire.
"But Angel's okay?" Doyle asks.
Xander starts walking, and Doyle falls into step beside him. "Depends on your definition of okay."
"He's why I'm back," Doyle says. "I don't know anything else, but I know that much. I can feel it."
"Trust me, that's a mistake," Xander says. Off of Doyle's confused glance, he clarifies, "Feeling things. It's better if you don't."
"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." Doyle sounds determined, confident. Xander wonders how long he'll be able to stay like that. "So what's wrong with Angel? Is he hurt?"
"Not exactly." Xander thinks about it. "Well, maybe. Kind of. In the head. He's kind of... crazy."
"What about Cordelia?"
Xander's rhythm doesn't falter; one foot in front of the other, just like in that animated Santa Claus movie with the penguin. And wow does his mind go to strange places sometimes. "She's dead," he says. "She died a couple of months ago."
Doyle's response to that is complete silence, which is okay with Xander, because if they're quiet he can hear if there's anything trying to sneak up on them.
"What do you mean, crazy?" Doyle asks finally.
"Crazy," Xander says. "Raving lunatic, psychotic killer crazy. Like Angelus, only he's not. That's what Spike says, anyway, and I guess he'd know."
"Spike?" Doyle sounds surprised. "Yeah, I guess he would, considering the last time I saw him he had Angel chained up and had been sticking him like a pincushion."
Xander winces -- being stuck like a pincushion strikes a little too close to home, and he doesn't feel like being reminded. "He has a soul now."
"So do serial killers, and it doesn't seem to do any of them a lot of good," Doyle points out.
"This one does, apparently. Maybe Spike got it zapped in from somewhere else. Like Gandhi, or someone." Xander glances to the right as they walk out between two buildings, but there's nothing.
Nothing is good. He likes nothing.
"Somehow I think Gandhi would want to keep his," Doyle says.
Xander remembers something. "Came back from where?" he asks.
"What?" Doyle says.
"You said you came back. Came back from where?"
Doyle shrugs. "Wherever I was. Dead, mostly."
"Huh." Xander thinks about that. "Buffy came back, too. Willow brought her back."
"Buffy... that's Angel's ex?" Doyle turns around and starts to walk backward next to Xander, which is probably a good idea.
"Yeah. She's... well, probably dead. Again. Pretty much everyone is, at this point." Xander sighs. "Look, can we not talk about these depressing subjects and instead concentrate on the different but equally depressing topic of how we're going to deal with Angel? Because I'm thinking staking sounds pretty good."
"No," Doyle says. "I can handle him. Trust me; I know him. He'll listen to me."
"You haven't seen him," Xander says.
"He'll listen," Doyle repeats stubbornly.
"Whatever you say. But if he gets close enough for me to do it, I'll dust him." Xander gestures with the stake in his hand, which is awkward because it's his left and he's a righty.
"It won't come to that. I can take him." Doyle grins. "I'm stronger than I look."
They get within sight of the hotel. "There it is," Xander says, pointing with the stake.
"Inviting," Doyle says.
"It doesn't have to be. We're not vampires." It's a pretty shitty attempt at a joke, but they exchange smiles anyway.
Outside the door, Doyle pauses long enough to say, "I don't even know your name."
"Oh, sorry. Xander. Harris." Xander looks at his hand. "I'd offer to shake, but somehow I think our ability to sneak up on them would be hampered by the screaming."
"Don't worry," Doyle says, and Xander wonders if he's always this disgustingly cheerful. "Come on."
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no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 12:28 am (UTC)And i'm so pleased to see Doyle!
And now, the moment of truth, we'll see what Doyle can do for Angel...
*bounce*
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Date: 2005-09-03 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 01:54 am (UTC)I love this, you know that, right?
Julia, about a third of the way into my next chapter, just stopping by, must run, bye now!
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Date: 2005-09-03 02:01 am (UTC)and what will Spike and Doyle say to each other? Meep!
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Date: 2005-09-03 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 05:55 am (UTC)This just gets more and more surprising and intriguing.
Love your Doyle.
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Date: 2005-09-03 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 11:38 am (UTC)Whoa, just read 17 parts in 35 mins - think my brain has exploded. Scary, scary stuff and yep "dark" is defititely the word. Can't wait to see how Doyle fits in.
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Date: 2005-09-03 05:57 pm (UTC)"He'll listen," Doyle repeats stubbornly
Xander wonders if he's always this disgustingly cheerful.
Yay!
no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 11:29 pm (UTC)