[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Three 5/18 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

helenraven helenraven at talk21.com
Thu Jun 10 14:39:01 EDT 2004


Title: Kungai Part Three 5/18

Author: Helen Raven

Email: helenraven at talk21.com

Pairing: Wesley/Gunn

Summary: The full history of the relationship between
Gunn and Wesley in the Birthdayverse. A novel in six
parts.

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, not even a blip
on the litigation radar.

The Story's Home Page: http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai

-----------------------

Gunn had been very right about the fundraiser. Anne
said she'd even managed to enjoy it. Wolfram and Hart
wouldn't have the real figures for another few weeks,
but Lindsey was confident that they'd made her at
least two hundred thousand and she was trying very,
very hard not to make any plans yet for spending it.

"Were the kids OK after Wednesday night? Sorry we did
that to you guys."

"Looked like you had to. You figure out what was going
on?"

"Not yet. Angel keeps at us to work out a clue. Two
new clues a day, he'd like."

"Is he always like that? Like he was on Wednesday?"

"Um... He's not often that freaked out. But he was
freaked out 'cos he knew where he was and what was
happening. So you kind of saw him at his best."

"Intense." A pause. "He's amazing to look at. C'n I
say that t'you now? Which shouldn't make any
difference to how terrible it is, but... Does seem
like even more's being lost."

"I guess. Different if you see him every day. Not
'lost' - always know exactly where to find him,
drawin' away in his room, same as ever."

Angel had a vision a few hours after Gunn spoke to
Anne, and this vision was straightforward in practical
matters but raised some awkward questions. The vision
was of a pair of twins at 8612 Whitworth Drive, about
to sacrifice another pair of twins to the demons
Chanlir and Chelva. The vision brought out Angelus,
but it also kept Angelus stuck inside it. There was no
clear end to the reverberation phase and Angelus
didn't turn violent - didn't notice Wesley or Gunn,
didn't really notice the chains - so they waited and
listened, and decided when he hadn't said the address
again for at least a minute that the reverberation
phase must be over.

By that stage, Angelus's voice was dropping to a lazy
murmur and there wasn't any immediate need to gag him
- but anything might happen later, and Gunn found a
whole new way of being creeped out when Angelus didn't
fight the gag but arched his neck in welcome, and then
worked his mouth on the leather with a pleasure that
showed itself along the full length of his body. Was
this because there was a gag in the vision? Or just
the mood the vision had put him in, got his body
needing to bite?

They were guessing that the demon-worshipping twins
were human, which meant they should be subdued with
the net, left with nothing worse than, say, a couple
of broken ribs. They guessed right, and they were good
enough with the net that the fight was over in seconds
 - nothing broken, hardly even a bruise. The other
twins were shaken but not physically harmed and they
just couldn't decide what they wanted to do about
pressing kidnapping charges, so Wesley collected every
demon-related artefact in the house and was very
convincing as the person who would hear within minutes
of the purchase or theft of any item connected with
any demon that invited sacrifices. What else could
they do? Except trust the Powers to intervene if there
was ever a next time.

Angelus was still there when they got home, but they
could see at one glance that he'd come out of the
vision, he was aware of them. Gunn was surprised that
Angelus hadn't been snarling from the moment they
entered the apartment, and then even more surprised
when Angelus, seeing them standing at the foot of the
bed, didn't act like he wanted to kill them but like
they were all friends. Friends who'd been playing a
game, and now he was giving hints that it was time to
set him loose: small jerks of his head, shifting his
hands, just to remind them where to find the padlocks.
And he didn't doubt for a second that they would set
him free; the noises from its throat were: "C'mon,
guys. When you're ready." Wesley and Gunn looked at
one another, speechless, then turned in step and left
the room. The noises stayed friendly for two or three
minutes ("Nice try, but you know I'm not falling for
it."), and then they suddenly changed to the snarling.

In bed, Gunn said, "So what do we think? Does it mean
anything, that he got stuck in the vision? And what
kind of game was he playing there?"

"I think... We'll have to ask Angel when he gets back.
About the game, that is. Reading between the lines
with the visions... I don't think we've got enough
there yet to even make it worth asking. I've just
realised, though, that I've never actually seen him
change. He goes into his room in one state. Or we lock
him in his room. And by the time the door opens again,
he's changed. But I've never been there when it
happens."

"Except the two times he's shut down. When we were out
training. That stopped the hallucinations, got him
back to normal. Maybe that's always how it happens."

"That would make sense. I don't think I'll be checking
on Angelus every five minutes, though, just to find
out."

When they opened the door in the morning, they heard
sounds that they knew instantly as terror. Angelus was
gone, and Angel was in hell.

"Could you heat the blood again?"

Gunn hesitated. "Wes. Sure, I'll do it but I'm not
leavin' you alone while you take the chains off. I'm
gonna watch your back like last time. We don't know
him."

"No. Of course."

Angel had said that there was nothing his guards in
that hell could have done to make him trust them, and
with that, Gunn would just have gone for speed, to get
out quickly and leave him alone. He wouldn't have
wasted any effort on trying to reassure Angel, because
Angel was going to think the worst of anything they
did. But Angel had also said that Gunn and Wesley had
done everything they could, and maybe that was what
Wesley had heard most clearly: that nothing they'd
done was wrong. Wesley knelt down to approach Angel
like he had before, talked to him the same as before,
made every move so careful, so gentle; and Angel
trembled and turned his face away, like he had before.

"Let's take the chain off the bed now. I'll take it
out of the room when I go to get the blood. Then we
can leave him straight after we've fed him. Less like
jerking him around."

Wesley agreed, Gunn unlocked the chain, and then they
unwound it from the frame. Angel made choked sounds,
and each time Gunn looked down at him on the floor,
he'd moved another stage towards drawing himself into
a protective ball. Again, Wesley had to order him to
drink. They decided to leave the door closed but
unlocked.

"You OK?" This time Gunn didn't bother with the coffee
but went to stand next to Wesley while he was rinsing
the beaker.

Wesley turned to look at him and nodded, serious, but
not shaken - not nearly as bad as the first time.
"It's easier when you know what to expect. When you
know that all you can do is what you think is right."

Gunn nodded in return. "And you've got that down. I
mean, being fair to him. When he couldn't ever notice.
Been watching you do that for months."

Wesley shrugged. "I notice. Have to live with myself
as much as him."

"I know. Loved you for that before I even knew what I
was really seeing."

* * * * *

Gunn got back from a long Monday afternoon of legwork
to learn that they were being evicted. The neighbours
downstairs and in the apartment next to Angel's room
had complained to the apartment manager about the
noise, gone as far as threatening to move out, and the
apartment manager had paid Wesley a visit. Gunn didn't
think he would have done any better with the guy than
Wesley. Kind of awkward that Wesley had told the
neighbours the story about looking after a friend's
dog, since he'd had to start off by admitting that
he'd lied - even if the new story meant that he hadn't
broken the no-pets clause after all.

In the new story, Angel had epilepsy because of a head
injury, and he wasn't responding well to medication
and he also had bad mood-swings, with surges of rage.
The apartment manager was sympathetic, in his way;
people did get sick, and sick people had to live
somewhere. But Wesley admitted that the noise was
sometimes bad, that it was getting worse (more
frequent, definitely), that there was nothing he could
do to control it; and that, if he'd known it was going
to get this bad, he'd have thought properly about
neighbours and noise when he'd been choosing an
apartment. They were going to get a 30-day notice
before the end of the week.

"Oh, shit. What he say about a reference?"

"He'd recommend us, apart from the noise. He'd have to
tell the truth about the complaints, but he'd do his
best for us."

"Like they'll hear anything after 'eviction'. Damn.
Would have been worse, though, before Wyndham Gunn."

"That helps the bank reference. But we're going to
need a lot more than that to look respectable. And I
don't think our card and website are fit reading for
humans."

"Who says we have to rent the apartment from a human?"

Gunn had only been half joking but he wasn't going to
say anything when he could enjoy watching Wesley
laughing, and then take credit for Wesley's new
optimistic mood. "I think Lilah Morgan would give me
an employment reference. That should be respectable
enough for anyone. I'll ask her when we have our
meeting on Wednesday."

Angel already knew about the eviction, and he was
guilty and withdrawn and difficult. He refused to go
training on Monday night, saying he thought he was
close to having a hallucination - thought he might be
having them more often than Wesley realised, maybe
every day, while he was in his room. Wesley and Gunn
went training on their own, and when they got back
they found the gag and some of the chains lying on the
floor in the living room. Their bedroom door was wide
open and Angel was asleep on top of their bed, fully
dressed, sprawled face-down. He'd been going through
their clothes: drawers and doors were hanging open,
Wesley's robe was draped over the foot of the bed, and
some of his shirts and jackets were on the floor by
the window, looking like they'd been thrown there.

"Oh, boy. It's gonna be a great month. Every day, he's
got a new trick."

Wesley was slowly hanging his clothes up. "Do you want
to start locking our door?"

Gunn picked up a shirt: the white shirt Wesley had
been wearing the first time they'd met. "Give him a
second chance. Not like it's deliberate. Even if it
was, I guess he's entitled."

Wesley nodded. "In his situation - even a fraction of
his situation - I'd probably be very drunk right now."

"Yeah? I'd be out with my friends - I could find any -
lookin' for trouble. Any shape."

Wesley placed his hand on Gunn's chest, then slowly
slid his hand around Gunn's back, under his jacket.
Almost a whisper: "I would consider it an honour to
come and post bail for you. And for up to..." A pause
for calculations. "Four of your friends."

Gunn laughed, rested his hands lightly at Wesley's
waist, and said in Wesley's ear, "You're actin' like
you're certain he's not gonna wake up. Be a first if
we were that quiet."

A long sigh. "You made me forget him." Wesley
tightened his hold, then let go and stepped back.
"I'll wake him up."

Angel woke quickly, was aggressive for the first few
seconds, then simply grouchy and defensive; he stalked
back to his room like he'd just discovered they'd
lured him out under false pretences. He was nearly as
unpleasant in the few minutes they saw of him the next
day, but at least he kept out of their bedroom.

The eviction notice arrived on Wednesday, but by the
time it arrived Wesley had already had his meeting
with Lilah Morgan, and she'd been so helpful and
positive that he came back all fired up with the idea
of the move as a chance to choose somewhere properly.
Gunn didn't want to burst Wesley's bubble - looking
through the apartment listings would do that soon
enough - so he treated the notice like it was good
news, and suggested they give it the place of honour
on the refrigerator door.

Angel's mood improved at some point after Wesley got
back from the meeting and he was able to join them for
training. During the drive over he asked their opinion
- quite calmly - about the ways in which he was
getting worse, and how the changes were likely to
affect them all. He wanted to know how many hours of
training he'd been able to give them so far that year,
and when they worked it out he insisted they had to
find new training partners, should search at the same
times as they looked for a new apartment.

Gunn mentioned the eviction to the boys at Caritas the
next night, and how Wesley's sick friend was getting
worse, and that he and Wesley were looking for the
makings of a good fight - not treating any of it as a
big deal. A fact of life that might make it more
difficult for him to join them at the club or for the
weekend nest-building, but not like some soap-opera
crisis or anything, and he could see the lighter side
quick as anyone.

They spent most of the weekend (or so it felt) looking
for apartments and discussing what they were going to
tell potential sparring partners about what they
needed out of a training session and why. Did they
have to make it clear immediately that the training
was not sport for them, that they expected to use it
in earnest at least every week? Probably better to say
nothing until they'd had at least one session together
and discovered if they really had anything to offer
one another. Going to be difficult, finding sane
people who would take them seriously, and keeping
clear of survivalists or vigilantes or whatever else
L.A. had to offer in the way of testosterone and
paranoia.

Late on Sunday afternoon Angel got a vision while he
was in his room. The chains weren't needed but he got
stuck in the vision, and Wesley and Gunn couldn't make
sense of it on their own. The drawings had to be of a
movie set: the narrow, cobbled streets, the branched
gas-lamps, the terrified woman's long, full dress, her
hat with the bird's wing. One drawing was just of her
face, close up as she screamed with shock, and in the
others she was running down the dark, empty street,
clearly hampered by her skirts, and unable to stop
herself looking back. She fell at least twice, she
lost her hat after one of the falls, but she seemed to
be widening the distance. In the last drawing she was
nearly at the end of the street and you could see that
there were people in the next street, a man and two
women walking past, just silhouettes with hats, and
she had seen them too and was reaching out and calling
for help.

Not just a movie set - more like a scene from a movie,
since everyone in the drawings was in costume. Was the
vision about the whole production, not just about that
particular scene? Maybe playing that scene was
reviving unquiet spirits. Or something. Angel's words
were all about that scene, about her terror, how the
thing she was running from was enjoying her terror,
seemed to think she would never get away. So it
probably was about the scene. Angel didn't give any
name for the production or the studio or the actors
(and neither Gunn nor Wesley recognised the actress in
the drawings), but there couldn't be that many costume
dramas filming at that moment - never were many, not
in L.A. Finding it should be easy; getting on the set
would be another matter.

They could not find the movie. They went out and
bought all the trade papers and a stack of gossip
magazines, and Wesley read into the night while Gunn
did every search he could think of online, took out
trial registrations for every "insiders' database" he
could find; and there simply wasn't any costume drama
of the right era filming in L.A. that week. Wesley
thought there might be one in Prague - but that was
just a comment, not a suggestion about booking a
flight.

Could it be a scene from a movie that had already been
made? A movie playing at the moment and something was
going to happen in the theatre during that scene? Or
it was about the actress, so they really had to figure
out who she was? They went through the full movie
listings and there was nothing, and they went through
the papers and magazines again and didn't see that
face or get a reminder of any name. They went to bed
and tried to sleep, and then Wesley thought the vision
might be about a movie showing on TV that week so they
got up and did another hour. They only stopped when
they realised that Angel had fallen silent: if he'd
recovered then he might be able to give them the
answer immediately. He was asleep - stretched out on
the floor underneath the window - and they couldn't
wake him up, but they were ready to admit now that
they had no idea what they'd do with this TV movie if
they found it, and that sleeping was the best thing
they could do with the hours before Angel was fully
recovered.

-----------------------

Rather read Kungai in HTML or PDF? See http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai



More information about the Gunnwesley mailing list