Between Shadows
Episode VI: The Art of War
Title: Between Shadows (Episode VI: The Art of War) part 1/4
Author: Scb047 ([email protected])
Summary: Xander's spin-off series, set a few years in the future in New York. Xander's fight against Mason's minion is about to escalate into all out warfare as tragedy strikes his friends. Can a blossoming relationship survive this trial?
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Disclaimer: If you want to sue me, first you gotta catch me. Long live the joys of copyright infringements!!! Avenge Napster!!! We remember…
Special thanks to Calen Hawk for the Beta Reading.
Chapter 1: Know your Enemy
In the darkness of a shady motel room, he groaned softly, his back arching ever so slightly from the pain. His face, covered in sweat, shifted from one side to the other searching the strings of early afternoon light for something he couldn't define. The thumping of his heartbeat raced around his body, as did the sensation of bitter pleasure he was so addicted to, a sweet pain he couldn't help but embrace. He closed his eyes a moment, covering them with his right hand, trying to stabilize the whirlwind of alcohol and cocaine pumping through his system, the cracked ceiling spinning above him. He sniffed intermittently, trying to chase the ghost of the powder that had left his face numb; his nose itself was only the distant memory of something that might have once belonged to him.
Xander groaned once more, as the sharp pain returned. He savored it for a moment, and then smiled, letting a small chuckle escape his lips.
"Faith, where did you learn to do that?" he asked, a hint of awe in his breathless voice.
The raven-haired slayer came crawling up Xander's body, biting her way alongside the skin of his bare chest. So nimble was her approach that the squeaky bed stayed utterly silent for the first time in the last few hours. She pounced to Xander's lips, taking good care amidst their passionate kiss to bite down hard on his lower lip, aggravating a small cut there and dipping her tongue in his blood.
"Ouch!" exclaimed Xander, an amused grin on his face as he slipped an arm around Faith's naked form and gently brushed the hair out of her face with the other.
"Quit the faking, Boy Toy. You love it like poison, and you know it," she answered, tracing a finger slowly on his face. She could hardly believe how handsome she found him to be, in spite of the scar on his cheek and the white strand of hair on his left temple. Actually, she could never decide whether or not those attributes aided the attraction. She had to admit it though, the bad boy look of it totally worked for her. He was Mr. I'm too cool to shave everyday, James Dean with at least another 30-40 pounds of muscle; he was the only guy she'd met with a pulse who was tough enough to stand up to her in a fight; and that, more than anything else, turned her on. She kissed him once more, this time letting him wrap his teeth around her lower lip.
"You didn't answer my question, Firecracker," persisted Xander teasingly, searching for a dirty story to spark up a jealous passion in him, but Faith knew well enough to deny him any such pleasure; she frowned upon relinquishing any control she possessed on Xander's libido. No, she alone would decide when Captain Happy would rise to attention for another salute, plus she knew too well that the key to seduction lies in leaving one's subject always wanting for more.
"Vegas," she said mysteriously, as he spun her to the side and started assailing her neck with kisses and bites. "I'll tell you more about it next time. I need to be in Mason's office by seven. Hey! Did I say you could stop? Keep goin', I got five minutes."
Months had passed between the first embrace they had shared in his room that October night. His arm had healed, other wounds had formed and gone too, snow had fallen and had melted away, a warm February closing in on them. Their timeouts away from their little war had gotten more frequent, their passion existing only in these secret instant they spend in rented rooms. In between they fought each other as fiercely has they ever had. Faith still worked for Mason, whose agenda remained unclear to both the lovers, but Xander and his little band of Scoobies did all they could to stop them. Failure was frequent, but the few victories they managed always had a devastating effect on Mason's overall plan; they only hoped it would slow him down long enough for them to figure out what he was up to.
The war existed outside the room, beyond the wooden door sealing their little made up reality. Inside, they never spoke of their differences, other than in the same way one would talk about their day at work to their spouse. Outside, Xander tried to steer clear of fighting Faith head on as much as he could. Whenever they would cross path he would take an evasive approach knowing too well he was no match for the Slayer; Skoll had not spoken to him since it had helped him defeat Tara. But punches were still thrown, stands still taken, and he knew Faith was holding back sometime, saving him a broken arm or a shattered skull as he Jackie Chan-ed his way out of a terribly deadly situation. None of them knew how long they could keep this up; none of them really wanted to find out.
"Why don't you?" asked Xander almost enigmatically as he watched from the bed as Faith slipped on her black sport bra. She never lost a beat even though she felt like swallowing the lump that formed inside her throat. She had expected the question; she had expected Xander would be the one to ask it, yet still it surprised her just how out of the blue he had approached the subject. Five seconds ago they had been talking about the latest episode of "Child of Destiny" where Roger, Xander's alter ego, was seduced by Stiletto, and evil psychotic leather wearing tramp whose ass Cordelia's character later kicked so bad, Xander had to talk Faith out of showing up at the TV star's LA penthouse with a chainsaw.
"I was wonderin' how long it'll take to cheapen the sex with romance, Boy Toy."
"I thought you liked cheap sex, Faith," asked Xander with a grin, "C'mon, Firecracker, what's one more switch, you're getting so good at it."
"I'm bad, Xander," she answered softly looking away from him, "That's who I am… that's who you could be too, though. C'mon, what do you say, no more of that walking the line bullshit. Let the inner evil rip, come out and play: come work for Mason. It'll be wicked fun, I promise."
"I can't."
"Why not? Why do I have to change my life to fit yours, cuz I'm the girl is that it? We both know who's the bitch in this relationship. I rule your ass, face it."
"That's debatable… if that's all right with you, mam?" answered Xander, swallowing hard and pretending to be scared for the Slayer's enjoyment.
"C'mon, you can't tell me you really care about that good and evil bullshit, about doing what's right and wrong Xand, I know you better."
"Faith…
"But you'd be on the ruling side… with me."
"I don't want my friends to get hurt, Faith. And they wouldn't go along with this."
"So… what you think of the movie?" asked Marcus, his hands buried deep into his pockets, hidden away from the world as they fiddled nervously with his change or anything else they could find. He finally looked up from the ground to Katrina who dutifully kept her attention on the road. Garrett had finally agreed to lend her his Jeep, and she wasn't going to mess this up by getting into an accident or getting a ticket.
"Sorry Marcus, did you say something?"
"Huh, yeah, you know, the movie…"
"Oh, right the movie. Yeah! It was great, I mean how can you not love Ben Affleck; he is such a hottie. But I bet you were too busy looking at Cordelia Chase to notice that. Not that I blame you, I mean she is gorgeous. I don't swing that way, but if I did, I would totally go for her. And how they fall in love, it's so beautiful, just like Romeo and Juliet, and when you find out that she has a terminal disease, that's just too good. I mean, if I had been watching this alone, I would have totally cried like a little girl. But of course, I had to look tough since you were around. What did you think?"
"Well… I didn't like it so much, I mean Cordelia Chase was fine, and I do mean fine, but it ain't my kind of flick."
"I don't understand then, why did you invite me to see it?" she said as she aptly veered the vehicle around a right turn.
"Well… you know," said Marcus, the words he really wanted to say dying bitterly in his mouth, "to thank you, you know, for saving my butt from that Quezcar Demon the other day… Boy! Did that thing have sharp teeth, huh?"
"Yeah about that, you got to watch out more in the future Marcus, just because Xander's insane doesn't mean you have to follow his example. God knows I'm trying to make him slow down, think before he jumps out of a three stories window onto the top of a moving truck, or runs headfirst through a brick wall. I don't need you to start playing Rambo either, I've got enough death whishes on my hands. Thanks anyways, I appreciate it."
"No problem, I knew you'd like
the movie,"
"I mean it, I can really use a friend right about now."
"Yeah," said Marcus disappointed, but the hint of sadness in his voice went unnoticed by Katrina. "That's what I'm here for, big bag of friendship… but I was thinkin'…"
"I mean think about it, could the guy be more selfish…"
"Ben Affleck?"
"No dumbass. Xander!" answered Katrina, the blonde's tone of voice became annoyed, though the source of the irritation was clearly not present in the car with them at the moment. "I mean, who risks their lives like that… and for what no good reason! Does he care how much it would affect us if he did get himself killed?"
"Kat… he does saves a lot of people's lives, including our own," answered Marcus hesitantly. The thought of seizing this opportunity to plummet Xander's stock never crossed the good hearted young man's mind, instead he shied away from what Katrina could potentially do to him for siding with his buddy.
"Excuses, excuses. We save people too, don't we? He's not the only one out there battling the forces of darkness. Does he have to be so gun-ho about it? Did I tell you he didn't even register for school yet? We start class tomorrow, Marcus! He is so selfish it's maddening; I don't even know why I bother. He's always so wrapped up in his little obsession: Faith this, Mason that. Got to save the world, Suicidal style! Never mind the smart way of doing things, let's just rush in head first! He's playing their game, he doesn't even seriously try to stop her, you saw how he always avoid fighting her…"
"Cuz she can whoop his ass is more like it," interrupted Marcus, a brief pause in Katrina's rambling. Marcus rolled his eyes as she started again, the tires of the Jeep screeching as she swerved through Brooklyn's busy streets. A few cars honked in the distance, a musical testament to Katrina's diminishing attention.
"That's Bull. It's nothing a pistol couldn't solve and you know it. Sure, if he can't kill her I understand, but shoot her in the knee or something. Sometimes I think he likes it this way. He's so afraid of change he'd rather risk all our lives playing this stupid game over and over again. In the meantime he's throwing his life away with the drinking and the constant violence; we don't even know where he spends his time anymore, he comes in, he comes out… I tell you Marcus, whatever he says, I don't believe he can really bring himself to hurt her, I think…" said Katrina as she stopped at a busy corner, nestled in the middle of relatively low buildings, their walls yellowed with dust. She instinctively looked out to her left as she waited impatiently for the light to change. Her hands tapped the steering wheel nervously.
"God!" Marcus said, loosing his cool. "Xander this, Xander that, do you ever talk about anything else. You wanna talk about obsession, why don't you start with yours, Babygirl. Can't you ever go five minutes without saying his name or talking about him?"
"Xander!" yelped Katrina almost in horror.
"There you go again, aren't you even a bit…"
"Shut up, Marcus! Look over there!"
Marcus leaned over to stare out the window at what Katrina was pointing to and came back with the same shocked expression that had assailed his friend's face moments ago. Outside this shady motel to their left, Marcus could see Xander dressed in nothing but a towel, kissing Faith as she straddled up onto her motorcycle.
"Well," said Marcus, still shocked. "At least now we know he's not a eunuch."
Sitting on the front porch of their little house in the Bronx, Garrett and Gabe watched in amusement as Sanaz paced back and forward, looking as nervous as they'd ever seen her. She was all dressed up, the make-up she had delicately applied made her look as beautiful as a painting; a flawless version of the already attractive woman she was. The black backless dress hugged her tanned body tightly, and with the sequin sown in intricate pattern, it looked as if she had veiled herself with the night itself.
"Relax, sis, he'll be here," said Gabe in a tone that shied away from being reassuring. He was less than thrilled about his half-sister's first date with professor Carl Henry, the object of her relentless pursuit for months. Gabe knew better than to say anything though, and after all, Carl as they'd finally came to call him, was not as old and stuffy as he sometime appeared.
"Stressing much?" asked Katrina and Marcus as they came up from the street. "Don't worry, Carl is right behind us, we ran into him on our way back and picked him up."
"Yeah, the Dog's checking himself in the side mirror of Garrett's ride, just makin' sure he's lookin' good enough for our fine lady over here," added Marcus with a smile and a wink.
"Thanks, doofus," said Sanaz to Marcus appreciatively, before turning her attention toward his blond haired companion. "What's wrong Katrina, you looked wigged out about something?"
Katrina's eyes shot up from the ground and reluctantly she answered, biting her lower lip in the process. "Just some bad news me and Marcus need to share with you guys… but nothing that can't wait until after your big date."
"I don't know about that girlfriend. I don't know if I want that kind of imagination teaser dangling above my head while I'm trying to concentrate on getting some tonight."
"Hey!" yelped Gabe from the back, "A little less sluty on the details, please."
"Shut up Gabe! C'mon Katrina what is it?"
"What's what?" asked a familiar voice as its owner opened the front yard's wrought iron gates. The group turned their attention toward Xander as he stepped aside and into the wide sphere of influence of a nearby streetlight. His face was still lined by occasional shadows, as he held the gate open for Carl, who had been coming up from the opposite side of the street. The two men exchanged a brief greeting before moving up to join the group.
"Xander!" said Katrina in surprise, though the intent was really to change the conversation or to at the very least delay it until she could come up with an adequate lie.
"Yes that would be I—Xander—thank you for reminding me," he said with a wide grin that should, alone, have been enough to betray his morning activity thought Marcus. With the benefit of hindsight, he now cursed himself for not making that connection before, having seen this expression on his friend's face many times the last few months.
"Oh my god, you look lovely, if I may say so, Sanaz," said Carl staring in awe at the brunette. He himself was dressed in an elegant dark blue suit with a red-striped tie. The two stared at each other, completely forgetting they were surrounded by their friends.
"Hello, Carl," she said simply, but her smile spoke of much more.
"Huh, right," said Xander, fighting hard to work through the strange awkwardness that was building up. "Katrina, what's that you guys were talking about?"
"Oh… nothing. Well you know, just that I smell love in the air, and all," she said hiding the anger she felt boiling inside.
"You couldn't be more right," added Garrett, quickly earning a hateful look from Gabe: the slap on the chest came only moments after.
"Shut up, squealer!"
"What? What's up? You met a honey or something," asked Xander intrigued. In the background, Sanaz and Carl continued their flirtation, exchanging a few comments on their evening plan. He relinquished watching Gabe squirm in his seat, finally it seemed New York was getting over Annie's death.
"Listen he's blowing everything out of proportion, California. It's just some girl we met during registration… we just talked and decided to take some classes together, end of story. He's jealous."
"Well I spotted the red head, I went to talk to her, I warmed her up and you swooped in and got all friendly, friendly. Damn right I'm pissed."
"Cool, I'm glad for you buddy," said Xander.
"Yeah, and she's new in town too, so I'm gonna show her around, and…"
"That's alright Gabe, I get the picture."
"Oh that reminds me," said Katrina with a hint of her evil intentions in her expression, "What about your registration, Xander? What courses did you pick again?"
"And that reminds me," answered Xander slyly, showing almost no nervousness at her questioning, "that we should ask the lovely couple where they'll be dining tonight."
"Oh, Carl is taking me to Dorsia, it's this…"
The sound of the machine gun came thumping in like a nightmare. Empty cases of 7.62 mm rounds were hitting the ground like a lead rain, nameless screams ringing out through the horror. Xander had his back to the street, but somehow he knew before the first shot had been fired. Maybe it was something in the sound of the engine accelerating, or the way everything suddenly slowed down, or how he could have sworn to have seen Buffy draped in a widow's black dress, strutting across the porch, or maybe it was just that tingling sensation in the back of his neck.
"Down!" he managed to yell as he tackled both Katrina and Marcus, the first round grazing his shoulder painfully. The drumming of the bullets shattering the windows and the wood of the front door, exploding the empty flowerpots, died as the black unmarked car sped away. And Xander was already up on his feet about to give pursuit, adrenaline pumping like the sweetest drug he could hope, mixing in with the vague traces of alcohol and cocaine still in his system. Then he saw her, only for the briefest moment, and yet again; just like a disjointed reality, a skip editing. She popped in and phased out once more, Buffy in her dark veil, smiling sadly at him.
"Xander!" someone wailed behind him, and reality kicked back in like the bitch it was.
Emergency rooms, like graveyards, possessed this transcendent quality, this aura that made them all appeared the same. The smell of formaldehyde, the busy chatter of nurses going about their business with cold professionalism, that proverbial one guy sitting by the candy dispenser who's pissed off because he has a headache and he has to wait for the doctor, never mind the later is busy saving the life of some guy who got stabbed in the throat. For the briefest of moments, Xander thought himself back in Sunnydale Memorial, waiting for the lowdown on Buffy or Willow's injuries.
He had sat in the waiting room quietly for hours before a nurse had noticed the wound on his shoulder and had had a doctor stitch him up. He had never said a thing because he had simply forgotten about it, his mind on his friends that were now battling for their lives. Garrett had been hit in the leg and the arm, his wounds had been painful but he would certainly live. The worry came from Gabe and Carl. The first much like Garrett had not had time to jump down from his seat, but he had been caught by several more rounds, one of which had collapsed one of his lungs. Carl had managed to push down Sanaz out of harms way before being mowed down; his body had danced a long dreadful gig before collapsing. It was a sight he doubted Sanaz would recover from anytime soon.
He watched them on the edge of the room, a few rows of injured people away, as they paced about nervously. They couldn't contain their fears like he could, and as most people do in this situation, felt an incredible need to contribute somehow. As if standing up to form a sort of vigil would help their comrades. Xander knew better, and left their fate in the hands of the doctors, concentrating his effort on figuring out how this all happened and what came next.
It was his fault, of course. He felt appropriately guilty for bringing this violence into their lives. In a way, he had always known this would happen, and had done little to stop it. He knew that exposure to the world of demons and Slayers was like painting a bulls-eye on your back, that sooner or later his friends would either die or have their lives destroyed, like his had been a dozen time over. He should have left, or maybe he should have joined up with Faith. He knew Mason was behind the attack, he knew he had been the target, the first shot that had grazed his shoulder would surely have killed him if he hadn't reacted so fast. He had been the intended victim, you always aim for the main target first. It had to have been DeMontagne that French Special Forces guy he had faced off with a few times before.
"It had to have been him," he muttered to himself, without any conviction. Paranoid thoughts were flooding his mind a mile a minute.
For the first time in years he had felt he belonged somewhere and he had allowed that to control him, and now people he cared about were paying the price for it. Was it Faith that had done this, had she thought wiping out his friends would take care of his reluctance to join her? Was the first bullet only meant to make him believe he had been the target? No, she could never go so low, could she? Maybe if he had taken her out of commission, maybe if he had taken off the kiddies' gloves.
"God dammit! Where's the fucking doctor," yelled out the man with no visible injury in the corner, the man with the headache. "I've been waiting an hour, I want to see a fucking Doctor for Christ sake!" Xander ignored him, returning to his brooding thoughts. What son of a bitch he was, here his friends were in pain, were dying for all he knew, and he could still taste her, he could still smell her scent on his fingers.
"God will you shut up!" yelled back Sanaz. She was a wreck, the pressure of possibly losing both her half-brother and the object of her affection, was too much for her to bear.
"Listen, bitch! My fuckin' head is…"
"Hey, watch it, pal," interrupted Xander with aggression, "you only get so much for free."
"Oh great," exclaimed Sanaz sarcastically waiving her hand at him as tears kept pouring, "that's a great idea Xander. Why don't you kill him, that's what you're good at, isn't it?"
The words hurt him, but not so deeply as one might have expected. It was strangely reassuring to know someone else agreed it was his fault; his brooding and self-hatred were suddenly justified. And Headache-dude had finally shut up.
"Miss. Shiraz," said the Doctor has he stepped into the crowded entrance to the waiting room. Xander instantly popped out of his seat and quickly joined up with the group.
"Yes, I mean, that's me."
"I'm afraid I have some bad news. You might want to sit down, all of you," said the bespectacled man in his deep voice filled with genuine sympathy. Nobody wanted to heed the advice though, preferring to stand as if before a firing squad, a last show of strength before collapsing in despair.
"You brother is still in critical condition, and we might need to operate some more in the morning, but we removed most of the bullets, and repaired most of the damaged. It's too soon to tell, but I have a good feeling he might pull through."
"Okay… that's not exactly bad news, Doc. What about Carl?" asked Sanaz. She melted into sobs, Marcus barely catching her in time as she watched the expression change on the Doctor.
"I'm sorry, Miss. Shiraz. You're friend died on the operating table about twenty minutes ago. There was little we could do, the damage was simply too extensive. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your grief."
The doctor disappeared back down the hallway, leaving the group to their tragedy. Xander took a step forward to attempt to console Sanaz, but she pushed him back violently.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled and
then almost instantly calmed down, looking away from him as if it was too
painful to. "Listen Xander, I know it's not really your fault, but it's real
hard for me to stay objective here. If you'll please just stay the hell away
from me for a little while…
He opened his mouth to respond, but chose wisely not to. There was nothing he could say that would have made this better. Words were meaningless. He made his way around the group and headed out with a decisive pace. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the rising action of some Heavy Metal music was playing. Somewhere between two steps he had made the decision, the little game he had been playing with Mason was over. It was time to take it to the next level.
Midway to the exit, as Xander stomped through the hallway with steam coming out of his ears, shoving his way passed anybody who happened to stumble in front of him, he heard Katrina calling out to him like the nagging voice of some conscience he had left long ago.
"Xander! Where the hell are you going?"
He turned around to face, giving her a chance to catch up. "I'm going home, Katrina," he said dryly.
"You're lying to me, you're going after them."
"No I'm not, I am going home, where I'm gonna grab a few things, then I'm going after them."
"Listen, you were just shot, why don't you get some sleep first."
"I'm not going to sleep till have quenched my thirst for vengeance with their blood, Katrina. Yeah, that's right, you heard me Katrina, I'm gonna find whoever did this and I'm going to murder them, regardless of whether they're humans or not, and regardless if they're armed or see me coming. The only thing I care about his how quick I can spit on their graves."
"Xander you're not thinking rationally. If you don't step back a moment you're gonna get yourself killed."
"I don't give a…"
"Okay, fine you want to die! Good for you! What about us, we don't need to loose somebody else tonight. And what if you're so enraged you end up hurting some innocent people in the process, haven't you thought about that?"
"Katrina," he drawled, "I will kill anybody who gets in the way. Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm not the nice guy you want me to be. I don't care about anything. I'm a killer, that's who I am. I destroy everything I touch. I know it, Sanaz knows it, and …" He stopped not wanting to give away what his speech was really about, but it was too late.
"What? Faith knows it? Is that what this is about? You're pissed at yourself because there's a good chance the woman you've been boning behind our backs, for god knows how long, just might have stabbed you in yours?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," he responded, refusing to acknowledge surprise at the fact that she knew about his extracurricular activities. For all he knew she could have been bluffing.
"Don't try to take me for a ride, Loverboy. I saw you with our supposed enemy, sucking face at a motel in Brooklyn, just today. So what's going on, it's not enough you're playing Mason's game, you're gonna play hers too? Let her convince you that you're really evil just like her, is that what you want to do, Xander?"
"What I want to do, is something I should have done months ago, and take her down. That should make you and your little conscience happy, shouldn't it?"
"Xander," she replied shaking her head, and claming down, "I hate the bitch, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't want you to go out and kill her just cuz you're pissed and looking to blame someone. Xander, despite what I've said, we don't know that she was behind this. If I know one thing, is how much she wants to keep you alive, otherwise she could have just slit your throat while you slept, right? Xander don't fuck up your life over this, I don't know much about your past, but I do know you probably wear your worst scars on the inside and I don't want you to add to that by killing a woman you're in love wi…"
"Whoa!" said Xander raising his hands defensively, showing as much fear as she'd ever seen him display. The tone of his voice had changed, the muscles of his face had relaxed; somehow she had gotten through to him. "Who said anything about love— I mean, I like Faith and all but…"
"Fine, typical male, afraid of commitment. Go ahead, delude yourself, I bet she does the same. But I have to warn you, it won't last, sooner or later you're going to have to face truth."
"Hey! I'm Xander Lavelle Harris, never underestimate my ability to delude myself. It's my superpower, you know?" he joked with a smile, a trace of the old Xander, shining through the hard empty shell of a man he had become. They laughed nervously for a moment, almost feeling guilty about releasing some tension in the wake of one of their friend's death.
"Xander, please, I know there's a darkness about you, but don't let it consume you, not totally. I'd miss Xander Harris if you did."
"God dammit!" interrupted Headache-dude as he argued fervently with the nurse. "I want to see a doctor now!" Both Xander and Katrina turned toward the nurses' desk that was just a few feet to the right. The man was banging violently with his fists on the desk, the nurse starting to retreat back in fear.
"Sir, I understand you're in pain, but you'll simply have to wait your turn. Our doctors are all busy and you do not have a priority trauma. You're just gonna have to wait your turn."
"I'm in pain, here! What do I need to see a doctor, I need to be dying is that it. I need to have money falling out of my pocket?"
"Hey!" yelled out Xander as he walked up to the gentleman, delivering a right punch to his kidneys midstride, followed by a right hook to the face, his left hand firmly gripping the man's shirt. Finally, he completed the quick attack by slamming the gentleman's head against the desk, just hard enough to crack the his skull. He pulled him back up by the hair, blood now trickling down his face. "Now you got you're head cracked, now you qualify for priority trauma," added Xander before letting the man's near unconscious body fall on the floor.
"I'm calling security…" said the nurse, "… in five minutes." Xander nodded to her in appreciation, and walked back to Katrina.
"That wasn't the darkness
consuming me, more like the inner Boy scout performing a public service. C'mon,
I'm happy, the nurse is happy, he's happy— I mean he's getting what he wanted,
they're going to let him see a doctor right away now. Everybody's a
winner."
"Tell you what," he answered
after thinking a moment, "I'll compromise with you. Tomorrow, I'll go register
for classes, if they'll still have me, of course. As for you, and the others,
you just got to promise to stay out of this until I've dealt with Mason and
Faith. I know you guys will probably want to help, but you don't have the
stomach for where I'm about to take this. Also, you're going to have to realize
for your own benefit, Kat, that I am not a hero, I'm not even a nice guy. I'm
just a pissed off alcoholic who's good at not much more than being the last man
standing.
"And what's that?"
"War."
