[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Three 14/18 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Three 14/18

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

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"Limbo" was set in Alaska, which mostly meant lots of
white to Gunn, in every sense. He'd never seen the
point of "Northern Exposure", couple of times he'd
half-watched it, but he somehow kept coming across
kids who thought Alaska was the answer, where they
could really get their start. Weird. Because it was
the opposite of L.A.? Seemed almost to see it as a
bonus that you couldn't sleep rough up there.

At the start, Gunn was seeing the movie mostly as a
background for those kids, but then there was a scene
with the woman singing in a bar, and he was surprised
to recognise the song: it was "Looking for the Heart
of Saturday Night", which Piriti would usually start
at some point in the digging, but Gunn had never heard
it all the way through before, or with music. After
that the movie was still slow, but Gunn had got
properly interested in where it was going.

"Wesley?" The receiver was on the coffee table. Angel
was looking up at the camera, all four books in his
hands. "Wesley?"

Wesley got up immediately, and Gunn stopped the movie
and followed him. "Make sure it's him, first. Don't
just go in there."

"Angel, I'm here. Do you need something?"

"Wesley." Angel held the books up. "Did you give me
these? What do they mean?"

Wesley opened the door. "They mean that I know you
sometimes like to read. For interest and to pass the
time. Is there something you'd prefer?"

Angel looked down at the books. "Which one would pass
the time?"

"Well, they all would. 'The Delta Star' would probably
make it pass most quickly. Are you bored?"

Angel looked at Wesley like he didn't understand the
question. Then: "What's the delta star?"

"It's just something in the story. You're not expected
to know. You find out as you read the story."

Angel let the other three books fall to the floor and
opened the cop novel. After a few seconds, frowning:
"When was it Mother's Day? Do they know I - What's the
bad check? It says everyone was watching it."

"The bad check is a police officer. The other cops are
watching him because they're expecting him to lose his
temper. But I only know that because I read the same
chapter yesterday. Again, it's something you find out
as you read the story."

Angel frowned down at the page again then dropped the
book. "I want something I know."

"Well... come and see what you can find on the
bookshelves. But if you already know it, maybe it
wouldn't be very interesting for you to read. You
wouldn't know anything in the hardback books. There's
no point in looking at them. Just try the paperback
books like this one."

Angel took out six books in turn, read the first page,
and then would have dropped the book if Wesley hadn't
been standing ready. After those six Angel suddenly
seemed to lose focus, reached for a seventh book
without looking at it, and turned abruptly and went to
his room. Just like the good old days. Gunn locked the
door and he and Wesley returned to the film.

"Wesley. Tell me about the bad check." An order.
Looked like Angel hadn't lost focus, just taken a
five-minute sulk.

Wesley sighed. "Don't wait for me. I think this could
go on for hours."

Gunn let the movie play on but he was watching the
other screen instead, was tuned in only to the sounds
from the receiver. Angel wanted Wesley to read with
him, explain every last fucking detail of that stupid
cop novel. Wesley was a saint. Or a sucker. Or both.
Eventually Gunn turned the receiver off. He tried to
watch the movie but soon gave up and rewound it,
channel-hopped for a while, then turned the TV off and
went to set the computer back up on the table. Wesley
and Angel didn't seem to hear any of the clattering
from the living-room, laughing too hard at some
cop-joke; well, Wesley was doing the laughing, Angel
was just smiling slightly. They were sitting together
against the wall, right knees raised at exactly the
same angle, and with the book spread open on Wesley's
knee. Busy day for Wesley's new suit.

At 10:22, Angel had yet another vision - a new one,
about a pair of vampires working a nightclub on La
Brea, going for couples. Identifying the vampires was
easy, getting them away from the crowds for an
inconspicuous staking was more difficult, since Gunn
and Wesley were not the type of couple they were
looking for, and since Wesley seemed to have no idea
how to behave naturally in a nightclub. Of course,
with that empty sleeve he was always going to look out
of place, but couldn't he find some middle-ground
between acting all stuffy and disapproving (OK,
pompous) and acting like he couldn't believe his luck?
Gunn could see that it was kind of funny (and Wesley a
smooth operator? no way), but he was glad that he'd
first met Wes far, far from a nightclub.

They went training first thing on Sunday morning then
watched the rest of the film over a very slow
breakfast. Strange film. A bummer, really. Failure
after failure, everything getting worse. And then
refusing to give you an ending, just cutting it off,
leaving you hanging - in Limbo, as Wesley pointed out.
Gunn didn't hate the movie but he thought they'd have
had a very different fuck the night before, going to
bed after seeing that. Maybe Angel had done them a
favour, sending them out to get covered in vamp-dust.

Rondell called at midday to say that the crew would be
going to Venice for the game of pickup, and Wesley
nodded at Gunn to go ahead. There were no digs about
coming back to the crew and a couple of the kids even
asked how he was doing ("keepin' busy"). It was a good
game.

Wesley and Angel were reading again when Gunn got back
to the apartment, sitting in the same position against
the wall, but Angel was losing focus by then and
Wesley soon left.

"How is he today?"

"The same. He's following the story quite well, though
he keeps on forgetting things. I have to remind him or
explain at least twice every page."

"Not gonna be readin' on his own, then?"

"Not this week."

"You talk about anything else?"

"Not really. I told him about the visions but... the
book seems more real to him at the moment. And the
'message' visions... I shouldn't have bothered. Far
too confusing."

Later, they watched Angel wake up for a brief
hallucination that Wesley said came straight out of
the book - a dead dog in a grocery bag, sent as a
threat. After Angel had switched off, Wesley went to
make a pot of tea, and once he'd settled again on the
couch he said to Gunn, "Have you ever noticed how all
of the 'message' visions hit while he's asleep? I
can't think of a single 'mission' vision like that."

" 'nother part of the message?"

Slowly: "I don't know. I'm almost wondering if they're
actually another type of hallucination. Brought on by
his dreams. When he dreams about a vision, it triggers
the seer part of him."

"Yeah, but what about Angelus? Those were never
missions. Nothing there for the seer to remember.
Helluva message, though."

"I think... his feelings when he remembers what
Angelus did are the same as his feelings when he's
having a vision. That he's desperate to stop it
happening. And it's as urgent and immediate as the
visions because in both cases he's right there. He's
inside it. It's not impossible that his brain could
take those feelings and generate a vision out of them.
I'd like to think we did get sent a warning about
Angelus, but it might just have been an accident,
caused by his brain-damage. In the same way that
Angelus was able to appear like that - because of the
brain-damage. It might not be a message. Not a
coincidence, either. More, inevitable. We were just
lucky in the order in which the effects occurred."

Gunn shrugged, not in any rush to get rid of the idea
of the messages. Especially not for blind luck. "Don't
see how you could tell either way."

"No, neither do I. But I'd take any bet you want that
no message vision will ever start when he's awake. Or
if it does, it will be directly connected to what he's
just been reading."

"No bet. The two of you'd fake one and spend the money
on more books."

* * * * *

Their first training session with the duals was on
Tuesday evening, and the portal from Ussur opened at
West Century and Crenshaw on the dot of seven on
Tuesday evening, and Grouw's sister Yan and the other
two duals walked through it like they'd done this a
hundred times before - which probably they had. The
portal was a fifteen minute drive from the warehouse
where they trained, and Yan and Su'son got in the car
with Wesley while Tarrag rode in the bed of the truck.

Yan had said she wouldn't be telling them in advance
what type of duals she would be bringing to each
session, or even whether they were able to split in
this dimension. Eventually (in a month or so) they
would get to know all of the duals who had
volunteered, but while the duals had the advantage of
surprise, they might as well use it to make the
training just that bit tougher.

For all three duals, the first priority was Wesley's
injury - as an obvious point of vulnerability,
something that they would all target in a fight. Was
the injury tender, how hard a blow was required to
disable him with pain? Then he must wear padding,
either over his clothes or under; over would
discourage the attack, while under might allow them to
invite the attack and use it to their advantage. How
many moves and formations had the two of them
developed to minimise the effect of the missing arm
against different types of adversaries, in different
situations? Yes, the crossbow was excellent, they
would build on that and there was little wrong with
their individual techniques, but they could get much
better value out of those techniques, increase their
margins of safety, if they all used these sessions to
concentrate on their tactics.

Both duals were able to split - which wasn't much of a
surprise in itself - but Gunn would never had guessed
the types of the demons from the combined forms.
Su'son split into a bristly warthog thing and a woman
who looked almost human apart from the grey skin -
until she flexed her long legs and sprang ten feet
into the air, straight over their heads. Tarrag split
into a chunky blue Hull, like Grouw, and something
like a grizzly but with armour plates instead of fur.
If the fights had been for real, Wesley and Gunn would
have been dead ten times over; if they turned
themselves into masters of tactics with the technique
to match then they might get that down to three times
over, but then nothing in the visions had ever been a
fraction as versatile, organised or prepared as the
duals.

The session ran over so they didn't go to the noodle
place as planned, just took the duals for a quick
drink in a demon bar close to the garage where Grouw
worked (Yan's choice: Gunn had never dared go in there
before); and then got the duals back to West Century
and Crenshaw with ten minutes to spare before the
portal opened at midnight. The duals had mostly talked
amongst themselves in the bar, not ignoring Wesley and
Gunn, just letting themselves into their usual
after-shift habits; Wesley and Gunn had listened, and
Yan gave them odd scraps of background, and when they
had questions all three duals joined in answering,
briefly but willingly.

Back home, the tape had recorded several minutes of
Angel calling for Wesley, saying that he wanted to
read, and then about half an hour of Angelus enjoying
a violent hallucination, which the screen showed as
sexual as well as violent. Angel had probably tried to
read on his own; Wesley had left the book against the
wall, but now it was on the floor halfway to the door,
and the tape seemed to show that Angel had called
twice, the first time slowly realising that Wesley
would not come, that he must be out or asleep, and the
second time asking questions about things in the book,
saying he wanted to understand. He sounded puzzled and
frustrated. When had he taken Wesley's shirt from the
mattress and put it by the wall, where Wesley normally
sat? Before he'd called that second time, or after?
Did he think it had magical powers to help him
remember and understand?

Gunn and Wesley both needed a shower and Gunn
suggested they take one together, which they'd never
done before. Gunn said it would be quicker, but of
course it wasn't. He kept thinking about Angel, about
Angelus with his trousers open, about how soon Wesley
would have to use those new Speedos. Probably not a
good idea to give Wes any reasons, any memories to
make him think about sex when he was in this shower;
but there was already enough that was just Wesley and
Angel.

Gunn woke up in the middle of the night to the sound
of voices: Wesley and Angel and that book, coming from
the receiver, which was on the chair by Wesley's side
of the bed, turned on very low. Wesley was reading: a
conversation between these L.A. cops, probably, but he
was just doing it in his regular Wesley voice. Angel
asked questions ("Who said that?") but also made
comments that showed that he was following the story.
Gunn turned the receiver off after a few minutes. He
could still hear the voices but just as a murmur, less
than the noise from traffic. Gunn woke again around
dawn to find Wesley back beside him and asleep; the
receiver was on again, but was silent.

"He says he wants to get clean, and to have a change
of clothes."

"He said that last night, you mean?"

Wesley nodded. "He asked for a shower last night, but
I said we'd have to wait until you were there to stand
guard."

"Better have your Speedos on ready, then, for the next
time he wakes up. Not gonna be easy."

Gunn was right, though he hadn't gone far in imagining
how it would be difficult. Angel woke shortly past
ten, in hell. They took him in some blood and a change
of clothes, and after he'd drunk, Wesley told him they
were going to take him into another room and give him
a shower, and asked him to get undressed. Angel backed
against the wall and glared at Wesley, muscles working
in his jaw.

"Don't you want to get clean? We're not going to hurt
you. You know you need to get clean. Please, Angel."
Wesley reached out for the top button of Angel's
shirt, and Angel snarled and threw Wesley off, halfway
across the room. Gunn had the chain draped over one
shoulder and he leapt in, swinging the chain as a
weapon, and caught Angel about the head and back.

"Wesley, are you OK? Can you get the holy-water? Help
me get out of here."

"I'm getting it." Gunn could hear Wesley running for
the door. But Angel wasn't making any attempt to come
back at Gunn; instead, he'd retreated along the wall,
out of Gunn's reach. He was still furious, but it was
a broken fury; he knew he couldn't stop them, he knew
what they would do to him now he'd tried to fight
back.

Gunn said, "Take your clothes off, Angel," and Angel
dropped his head, turned away, and obeyed. Through
everything, he kept his head lowered, couldn't have
seen anything of the living-room except the carpet in
front of his feet. He closed his eyes when Gunn
started chaining him to the faucet, and he didn't see
anything of Wesley at all. They left him kneeling on
the mattress with the pile of fresh clothes beside
him, and with an order to get dressed.

"That was truly horrible." They were not looking at
the screen, probably wouldn't look for at least
another half hour.

"Yup. How's that sponge-bath looking now?"

Wesley shook his head slowly, then sighed. "Better.
But we'd still have to make him get undressed. We'll
try this one more time. I suppose we'll get hardened."

"Wish he'd warned you last night."

"So do I. Maybe... Maybe he can't imagine his other
states anymore. He hasn't asked about them in weeks.
We don't talk about them. Or... not about any state
except Angelus."

* * * * *

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