Title: Hand of Glory Author: Penemuel Posted: 7/03/01 Archive: Sure, just let me know where if other than list archive Part: 5/? (Work in Progress) Pairing: Angel/Lindsey Rating: R (this segment only) Warnings: language, lots of dumping on Lindsey in this one; references to m/m sex but no sex itself Notes: I try to be consistent -- I might slip up, though. *words* are emphasised, _words_ are thoughts. Summary: Angel/Buffy crossover alternate universe. The first part was written in February, but I figure I'd better start posting *before* they aired Dead End, before someone says I stole ideas... Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I'm just playing with them for a while and will give them back when done. They might be a little sticky, though. Hand of Glory By Penemuel Part 4 Gunn grabbed Wesley's elbow and held him still, allowing Angel and Lindsey to get a few more steps above them before he asked, "Okay, now hold on. Angel slept with *him*? D'you mean slept with like holding him to keep the nightmares away, or slept with like doing the horizontal mambo?" "Gunn," Wesley hissed, "Last night, this morning, this afternoon -- what do you think?!" "But slept with *him*?" The sound of Angel clearing his throat echoed throughout the stairwell, interrupting them. "Gunn, do you have a problem with the fact that I'm bisexual?" he asked bluntly, both he and Lindsey watching the other two to see their reactions. "What? No! I don't have a problem with *that*, I have a problem with *him*! He practically killed you guys, an' now you're *sleeping* with him!" He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, then looked up at Angel again. "Man, that is *so* screwed up!" Lindsey took a deep breath, planning to launch into a defense until he saw Angel frown, his forehead beginning to form the ridges of his vampire face. This could get interesting... "Look," Angel began, "he *has* hurt us in the past, but that's the *past*. He made a very valid point last night: I committed terrible crimes as Angelus. I killed, I raped, I drove people insane -- but you guys work side-by-side with me now. Even if he's doing this for totally selfish reasons, cut him a little slack, okay? We don't pick and choose who's allowed to be saved..." Lindsey saw Angel's words hit home, saw Gunn's expressive face go thoughtful, then saw the guilt win out. "Um, yeah..." He looked past Angel to Lindsey and said, "Hey, sorry, Lindsey..." "Yeah," Lindsey responded. Then, before he could think too much about what Angel had said, he added impatiently, "Look, can we get to my apartment and get this over with?" "Sorry," Wesley and Gunn said simultaneously, then, after Lindsey and Angel resumed climbing the stairs Gunn turned to Wesley and mouthed, "I still think it's wack..." When they reached Lindsey's floor, he took a deep breath, then opened the door into the hallway and looked out. Everything seemed okay, but he wouldn't be able to tell for certain unless Angel sensed a trap, or they stumbled into one. He pulled out his keys and headed for his door, the rest of them following him for the moment. Another deep breath, then he reached out to put the key into the lock -- and the door swung open. "Shit." He stood in the doorway, staring, for a long moment. He could feel Angel move closer behind him and a gentle hand settle on his shoulder, but he didn't want to be comforted now; he wanted to be angry. "Everything's gone," he finally whispered, stepping into the empty room. "Everything..." Angel, Gunn, and Wesley followed him in, looking around at the bare walls and empty shelves; the place where an expensive stereo system had been; the bar that had been well-stocked and now was completely cleaned out... "Damn!" Gunn breathed, "It's like no one ever lived here at all!" Numb, Lindsey walked back to the bedroom, vaguely aware that the others followed at a distance. The bedroom was just like the living room, emptied of every item that had been there. "They even took the stuff that was *mine*..." he murmured, staring at the place where his dresser had been. "The bathroom's the same way," Gunn's voice echoed on the tiling. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, peering into the medicine cabinet. "Oh. Never mind. Man, that's cold..." "What?" Wesley asked, walking into the bathroom to see what Gunn had found. A moment later he came out, scowling. "What is it, Wes?" Angel asked, tearing his attention away from Lindsey for a moment. "It's nothing. Someone's being cruel." "You found something?" Lindsey asked, snapping out of his daze. When his eyes met Wesley's, the ex-Watcher felt a pang of guilt for the way he had treated Lindsey so far. The young lawyer was obviously hurt deeply by this and trying so hard to keep from showing it... "Let it go, Lindsey, it's just someone being nasty," he said gently. "Damn it, I don't need your fucking pity!" Lindsey snarled, stalking into the bathroom himself. "Wes?" Angel asked softly, watching Lindsey over his shoulder. "I'm okay -- I think I deserved that..." he said softly, watching Angel watch Lindsey. "Some bastard left a tube of Astroglide in the medicine cabinet, but cleared everything else out." A sudden string of profanity followed by the loud clatter of the lubricant being hurled into the bathtub pulled Angel away before he said anything to Wesley. The accented cursing continued, followed by a loud smashing sound. The sudden tang of blood on the air made him close the distance at top speed. Lindsey stood at the sink, resting his fist and his prosthetic hand against the shattered mirror of the medicine cabinet, staring numbly at the bright crimson that flowed from one hand. He didn't see anyone approach in the shards of mirror, but suddenly Angel was there, wrapping strong arms around him and pulling him out of the bathroom. "Wes, get some gauze out of the weapons bag," Angel ordered, helping Lindsey sit down on the floor and then turning his attention to picking glass out of the cuts on the side of Lindsey's fist. "Lindsey?" he asked softly, trying to look into the blue eyes. He could see tears welling up in them, but refusing to spill over. "Linds?" "Did they take everything out of the closet, too?" Lindsey suddenly asked, looking up to see Gunn sliding the door open. "No clothes, no noth-- whoa..." Gunn said, leaning into the closet and pulling out a guitar case. "They didn't get everything," he said, turning back to them and holding it up. Now the tears did spill over, and Angel couldn't help feeling an echo of Lindsey's pain -- and more than just an echo of his anger. This was the cruelest dig -- crueler than the taunt of the lubricant; here was something that had obviously meant a lot to Lindsey at one point, and now it only served to remind him of how much he had lost because of his ex-employers. _And,_ Angel thought, bandaging Lindsey's wounded hand, _because of me..._ "Looks nasty," Gunn said, kneeling down next to them, "Might need stitches..." He decided it would be better not to say anything about Lindsey's guitar, or his tears. Angel finished fastening the bandage and looked at Gunn, his eyes partially shifted to gold. "It will -- it's still bleeding. I'm going to need either you or Wesley to sit with him in the back seat and put pressure on it while I drive." "I'll do it," Gunn volunteered quietly, "there seems to be a little less friction between us." Angel nodded, then he looked back at Lindsey. "Linds, you still with us?" he asked softly, frowning when there was no response beyond a quiet sob. "He's in shock," he said, scooping Lindsey up in his arms and standing in one fluid motion. "We've got to go, now," he said, "there's nothing else here." "Hold on a moment, Angel," Wesley said, heading back towards the bathroom with more of the gauze. "What the heck you doin'?" Gunn asked as they heard him breaking the shattered mirror out of the medicine cabinet door, the glass shards making an unpleasant noise as they fell into the sink. Next, they heard the water in the sink running hard for a few minutes, and then Wesley reemerged, unwrapping the gauze from his hands and quickly checking himself for injuries. "What the heck was that?" "I had to wash the blood away -- we didn't want to leave that behind for them to use against him," he explained. "Lots of bad things they could do to him if they got their hands on it. I'd like to burn the gauze, too -- certainly not going to leave it here..." "Damn..." Gunn said as they finally left the bare apartment, "I never would've thought of that. What about all of his stuff they took?" "We can't do anything about that," Angel answered uncomfortably, "but Wes' right -- if they'd gotten his blood, it could've been even worse." They returned to the car, where Angel gently settled Lindsey in the back seat and held him up until Gunn climbed in next to him. When Angel let him go, he whimpered slightly, then fell against Gunn. Angel and Wesley got into the car and Angel gunned the engine, then pulled out into traffic as soon as he could. In the rear-view mirror, he could see Gunn settling the guitar between his knees, then taking Lindsey's hand and putting pressure on the wounds, blood already starting to seep through the bandage. "Damn," he growled, his voice betraying the difficulty he was having keeping his vampiric nature at bay. Lindsey's blood smelled so sweet, so tempting... _And Lindsey's so hurt,_ he scolded himself when he caught himself licking his lips. _I really *didn't* look hard enough if he's been this close to breaking... Bastards!_ "Cordelia?" he heard Wesley asking. When he glanced at the man sitting next to him, he realized he was talking on a cell phone. "Ah, they're there? Good. Listen, Cordy, Cordelia, please. Yes, I know he is, he's a vampire." A tired sigh, then sharply, "*Cordelia!*" startling everyone except Lindsey. In the tiny moment of time after his outburst, he hurriedly said, "We'reonthewaytothehospital," obviously rushing it in before Cordelia could launch into another stream of words. "No, there wasn't a fight -- Lindsey cut his hand pretty badly and needs stitches. Could you please put Giles on? Thanks." As he paused, obviously waiting for the phone to change hands, he looked aside at Angel and whispered, "Sorry." "I understand," Angel responded with a rueful smile. "Painfully well, even," Gunn added with a grin. "Giles, yes -- sorry for abandoning you to Cordelia's hospitality, but we've run into a complication. No, nothing like that, but we went to his apartment to fetch his belongings and they've taken all of them. Yes, clothing, furniture, everything -- except a guitar which seems to be important to him." He paused, and Angel listened carefully, hearing Giles first relaying the information to someone -- probably Ethan, since he was sure Spike didn't really give a damn one way or another; then asking, "Can you get a list of what was taken?" "No," Wesley answered, "Lindsey's a little upset -- he's become unresponsive... He cut his hand, but I washed the blood down the drain so they couldn't use that, and -- thank you. I didn't want them to be able to-- no, it's just that events have been a little stressful. Yes, we'll be there as soon as possible." He turned the phone off and sighed, then said, "He's going to see if they can whip up some kind of defensive spell, in case they try something tonight." "Good," Angel said, turning into the hospital's emergency room entrance. "Okay, you two help him into the ER, and I'll join you after I park..." Assaulted by smells the instant he entered the hospital, Angel nearly turned around and walked back out. It was only the thought of Lindsey coming back to himself with only Gunn and Wesley there to take care of him that forced him to continue. He managed to make his way through the bustling emergency room unchallenged, finally finding the curtained area where Lindsey lay on a gurney. A nurse was busy cleaning his wounded hand, and Gunn and Wesley stood off to one side, Gunn holding a clipboard. "There you are," Angel said quietly, stopping at the foot of the gurney and nodding to the two of them before he turned his attention to the nurse. "How is he?" "He's going to need about six stitches -- some of these cuts are pretty deep. Are you--" "Yes," Angel answered before she could finish. Better to just let her make an assumption than to have to answer a question he wasn't ready to face yet... "I'm concerned about his altered condition -- what can you tell me about that?" "He's had a pretty serious shock," Angel said quietly. He didn't want to say Lindsey had been robbed, because then they would expect him to get the police involved -- the police wouldn't stand a chance against Wolfram & Hart... "He's been under severe stress, and..." "Do you want me to have someone talk to him?" she asked softly, looking up at Angel and seeing the worry in his eyes as he watched Lindsey stare off into nothingness. "Would it be okay if I tried first?" he asked, meeting her gaze momentarily. "Of course. I'll have a doctor come to suture his hand," she said, dumping the gauze and the swabs she had used into a small metal dish on the nearby cabinet and hurrying off. Angel walked closer to Lindsey now that she wasn't in his way, and gently reached out to touch his shoulder. "Linds?" When there was no reaction, he looked over at Wesley and Gunn, and asked, "Did he say or do anything since you got him out of the car?" Gunn shook his head and said, "He whimpered a coupl'a times but I think that was just reaction to pain -- he's completely withdrawn..." "Angel, we've got to get him out of here quickly," Wesley said, peering out of the curtain for a moment. "And we shouldn't leave that lying around, either," he added, nodding in the direction of the used gauze. "Hand me the dish, quickly." He pulled a plastic bag out of a pocket which Angel could see already contained the gauze he had wrapped his own hands in earlier. "I... borrowed this from the hospital -- we'll be able to take all of this out of here and just incinerate it when we get back to the hotel." Angel nodded and passed him the metal dish which he emptied into the bag. This time it was too large to squeeze into his pocket, but he stuffed it under his arm and covered it as well as he could with his jacket, then handed the empty dish back to Angel. After Angel set it back down on the table, he leaned close to Lindsey and whispered to him, "Lindsey, it's Angel. Can you hear me?" The blue eyes continued to stare off into nothingness, the slow rhythm of his blinking unchanged. "Damn," Angel whispered. He reached out and gently stroked Lindsey's face, then leaned down in front of him. His face shifted slightly, his eyes going gold once more. "Wes, Gunn, warn me if someone's coming," he said, then he focused on Lindsey once more. He could smell fear and a deep, deep despair -- something he recognized all too well and didn't want to smell coming from Lindsey. In the brief span of time they had spent together, he had developed a surprising liking for the young man, despite their previous antagonism. As much as he hated to admit it, it had been easy to use Lindsey as a focus for his hatred of the law firm, and now it was all too obvious that Lindsey had only been a tool. They had used him; used his desire to make something of himself, and now that he had shown a spark of courage in trying to escape them, they would try to destroy him. He just refused to allow them to destroy *another* life... "Lindsey," he whispered, reaching out with every vampiric sense, feeling the rapid thumping of Lindsey's heartbeat, the shallowness of his breath. He could feel Lindsey's blood in both of them, tying them together. "Lindsey..." He reached out to touch the place on Lindsey's neck where he had bitten him, feeling the blood warm under his skin. "Lindsey, come back to me..." Lindsey jerked suddenly, blinked a few times, then his stare snapped to Angel's face. "Angel..." he whispered, a moment before his eyes filled with pain once more. "Linds, you're in the hospital -- a doctor's going to be here soon to stitch up your hand, and then we'll be out of here," he explained softly. "Just stay with us, okay? I don't want them to call someone in for a psych consultation..." "They took everything," Lindsey said again, and Angel caught a subtle shift in his scent. He was starting to get angry. "Everything except the one thing I can't fucking use any more..." Angel straightened, recognizing the look in Lindsey's eyes. The anger wasn't aimed strictly at Wolfram & Hart now... Lindsey sighed and tried to flex his wounded hand, but Angel grabbed it and held it still. "Don't -- you'll start bleeding again," he hissed, his eyes showing the plea he kept out of his tone. "Sorry," Lindsey said with a nod, understanding the cause of Angel's distress. "Yo," Gunn said urgently, giving Angel just enough time to make certain he looked fully human before the doctor came in. "Okay, how are we doing?" the young Hispanic doctor said, looking at Lindsey and smiling when she saw he was alert and aware of his surroundings. "You look much better than I was expecting," she said gently. "Yeah," Lindsey said, extricating his hand from Angel's grasp and holding it out, "I'm okay, just need some stitches I guess." He flashed a smile at her and added, "That way we'll be out of your hair before it gets really busy." "It hasn't been too bad tonight, actually," she said, sounding relieved. "The nurse said you were very shocky when you came in -- do you feel well enough to sit up now?" He nodded and tried to sit up, but needed some help from Angel to do it. "Feel dizzy?" the doctor asked, concern evident in her tone. "No, I'm okay," Lindsey answered, still smiling, "Just that I can't use my *good* hand 'till it's stitched up." He held up his prosthetic hand briefly to illustrate what he meant. "Oh, I'm sorry," the doctor said, "Well, I guess I don't need to ask if you know how to take care of the sutured area, do I..." She looked at Angel and said, "When he bathes, he'll need to keep the sutures dry -- will you be able to tape some plastic wrap over it?" _I've traveled around with guys before -- do people always automatically assume--? Oh yeah, I *was* holding his hand..._ he thought in the split second before he answered, "Yeah, I can do that. Is there a list of things I need to do?" "I can tell him," Lindsey said, wincing as the doctor probed gently at the cuts before picking up the small syringe of local anesthetic. "It's startin' to hurt now..." "It'll be numb in a minute," the doctor reassured him. "So, what did you do?" Lindsey smiled again, an embarrassed grin this time, and said, "I was really angry and did something stupid -- smashed a mirror..." "I don't think I have to tell you not to do that any more, do I?" the doctor asked as she administered the local. When he shook his head, she said, "Good." "Angel?" Gunn asked, drawing his attention away from Lindsey's wounded hand and holding up the clipboard. "Now's probably a good time to deal with this." Lindsey turned to look over at Gunn, realized the clipboard probably had a sheet for his insurance information on it. He looked back at Angel, trying to keep the worry out of his face in case the doctor looked up from her work. "Angel, they've probably already cancelled--" "Yeah, I know. Don't worry," Angel said softly, squeezing his shoulder before he headed over to where Gunn and Wesley stood. "I told 'em I'd fill out what I could, but I'm guessing whatever insurance he had is gone," Gunn said quietly, handing Angel the clipboard. "Do we have any?" Wesley looked up at him and shook his head, then just as quietly said, "Not enough money yet. We need some more rich benefactors, or, as much as I hate to echo Cordelia, paying customers..." Angel looked at the form on the clipboard and filled out some of the information, including Lindsey's current residence and contact numbers, then turned to look at the doctor. "Excuse me, Doctor? Who do I talk to about this form?" "Go out to the front desk -- they should be able to help you," she said, tying a neat knot in the row of sutures in the longest cut. Lindsey winced slightly and she smiled apologetically, "Sorry, Honey, we're almost done." "Front desk -- I'll be back soon," Angel said, striding off so he didn't have to watch Lindsey pouring on the charm. He was far too good at it, and Angel wasn't sure whether it disturbed him because he was so bad at it himself, or because he wasn't sure he'd be able to tell if Lindsey was charming him... When he stopped at the front desk and put the clipboard down, a young man wearing a telephone headset looked up at him and mouthed, "Hold on a moment." He returned to the discussion he was having with whoever was on the other end of the line, something about a patient who was still in the emergency room waiting for test results before they decided whether they would admit him. Angel waited, watching the hospital staff, patients, worried friends and family members; everyone moving about in some insanely chaotic dance. He had no idea how they did it; how they kept their minds on the job at hand surrounded by so much human suffering... The doors burst open and an ambulance crew wheeled in a youth, probably not more than fifteen years old. Doctors and nurses rushed to their side and listened as the EMT rattled off the vitals and the situation, and started ordering treatment and tests before they had even gotten ten feet. Angel could smell the blood and the gunpowder -- and the pain; he knew the youth had been shot. A moment later, police officers came rushing in, demanding that the boy not be let out of their sight because he was wanted for murder. _The vamps and the demons aren't the only monsters..._ Angel thought, not for the first time. _Please tell me we're making *some* kind of difference..._ "Sorry about that -- can I help you?" the young man at the desk asked, startling Angel out of his thoughts. "Oh -- yes. I'm trying to fill this out for my um--friend, and, well, he's between jobs right now and doesn't have insurance. Is there some way I can just have the bill sent to my business?" He held out one of the "Angel Investigations" cards and flashed a smile he hoped was charming and sincere. "He's not in for anything major, is he?" the young man asked, obviously having panicked visions of the hospital doing major surgery on an uninsured patient. "No," Angel answered reassuringly, "he's getting stitches in his hand. Should be done any time now." "Yeah, we can send you the bill then," the man said with a relieved smile. "You filled out the top of the form, right?" He took the clipboard and skimmed the form, then nodded. "This is fine -- I'll staple the card to it, and you can expect the bill --uh-- probably by the end of the week." "Thanks," Angel said, thinking _If this place wasn't so busy, I'm sure we'd have to pay before we left..._ He turned and looked back down the corridor, relieved to see Lindsey, Gunn, and Wesley walking towards him. "Everything okay?" Gunn asked as Angel joined them. "They'll mail me the bill," Angel answered, glancing at Lindsey as the young man stumbled. "You okay?" "A little dizzy," Lindsey said, "I'm just glad she let me outta here without doing any bloodwork or they'd be trying to treat me for anemia." As they exited the hospital and headed for Angel's car, Gunn frowned and stopped short. "Anemia? You didn't bleed *that* much!" As the others passed under a light he realized Lindsey was blushing. "Oh no -- you let him-- oh *man* that is just *way* too much information..." "It's probably a good thing you weren't there for Lindsey's initial... erm... interview," Wesley said, waiting for Gunn to catch up. "Do I wanna know?" "Most definitely not." By the time the two of them arrived at the car, Angel and Lindsey had already settled themselves in the front seat, Lindsey now holding his guitar case between his legs. "We need to get back so Giles and Ethan can take a look at his hand," Angel reminded them. "Sorry," Wesley said softly. He took a deep breath, determined to get past his irrational jealousy and treat Lindsey with more kindness -- they were both adults and he was *not* going to be so petty... "Lindsey, how *are* you feeling? It's been a pretty hellish night so far -- is there something you want to do before we go back to the Hyperion?" "I don't really feel like dealing with it today," Lindsey said quietly. _What kinda trick is this now?_ He turned to look back at Wesley to study his expression, and saw genuine concern there. _Damn it -- now he's gonna be all professional about it. Well, Wesley, I can play that game better than you any day._ "I got a cursed hand, and a stitched-up hand, a guitar, a suit, and what little I have in my SUV. I've got nowhere to go, no clothes to wear, no job... Thank god my briefcase is in the SUV or I'd--" He stopped short and frowned, then ordered, "Angel, pull over at that ATM." He tried to reach into his pocket for his wallet, but the bandaged hand wouldn't allow it. Once Angel stopped the car, he slid over to Angel and said, "Help me get my wallet outta my pocket. I feel like I'm a fuckin' cripple!" "Lindsey, what's wrong?" Wesley asked, alarmed by his sudden mood swing. "Hang on," Lindsey answered, getting Angel to help him open his wallet and slide out an ATM card. He climbed out of the car and hurried over to the ATM, fumbling with the card once before he finally managed to slide it into the slot. Then he jabbed in his PIN with the prosthetic and glared balefully up at where he knew the security camera would be. A moment later the screen blinked and he looked down at it as he absently took the card back. "Mother fuckin' SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled, pounding the keys with the prosthetic hand. "Lindsey, get in the car," Angel ordered, trying to ignore the chill that fell over him. "Get in the car, *now*." Gunn hopped out over the side and grabbed Lindsey away from the ATM before he could actually damage it; nudged him back in the direction of the passenger seat. "C'mon, before the cops come!" That seemed to sink in, and Lindsey hurriedly obeyed, climbing in and shutting the door, then waiting irritatedly as Angel fastened his seatbelt. Once they were again on their way, he let off another litany of curses, including some in Latin, then looked over at Angel. "They froze my goddamn bank account! They *took my money*!" To be continued...