Archive of Our Own ^beta

The linoleum floor of the hospital room was scuffed. Wesley assumed it was due to the constant foot traffic and squeaky hospital bed wheels. It was also a light shade of green; a colour for which he was now very much lacking in his wallet.

As he shoved his tie into his bag, his collar loose against his neck, he huffed, throwing his leather wallet onto the bed. He took off his glasses to put his fingers to the crescents of his eyes.

Mr Giles, who had made a brief visit hours earlier, had kindly brought his single bag of luggage from his hotel room, and offered his credit card to pay the gap of the hospital bill he wasn’t able to fulfil. He’d then nodded to Wesley, wished him well in the most British way possible, and left him to his unknown future.

The phone call from the Council to his hospital room had been quick, and uncovered what he already knew was coming. He had gone against protocol, conspired with a vampire, and the Council had decided (remarkably quick, Wesley noted), that they were to part ways.

Now unemployed, he thought of his next steps. He could have called home, but he suspected his father was already aware of his situation, and there was no need to further explore the implications of that. He couldn’t stay in Sunnydale. Buffy didn’t want anything to do with him, and Faith…

That’s how he found himself by the door of her hospital room. He stood outside it for at least five minutes before he had the courage to actually go in, clutching the handle of his bag. He looked at the bed before huffing a deep breath and taking a step forwards.

She looked as if she were asleep - naturally, Wesley scoffed, she technically was. He glanced at the clipboard by her bed and was almost tempted to read her notes, but finally decided against it. It wouldn’t be right, and she deserved a little privacy at least. His shoulders slumped as he walked to the edge of the bed and reached out to put his hand on top of hers, thumb gently stroking her skin.

He hadn’t lied to Buffy. He truly had wanted to save her. He’d never meant for anybody to get hurt. And besides, it didn’t matter now. She had been lost to him the moment he’d bound her wrists in handcuffs. He felt his eyes sting.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, squeezing her hand.

“Wesley?”

He removed his hand from hers with a jump and harsh inhale of breath, turning and eyeing the figure at the door.

“Xander,” he responded, trying to compose himself with a stern nod to the young man.

Xander simply stood and looked at Wesley up and down, before raising his eyebrows. Wesley tried not to let the gesture bother him.

“Gotta say Wes, you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

Wesley’s mouth opened but no sound came out, scrambling in his mind to think of another reason as to why he was standing at the bedside of his former slayer. He closed his mouth finally.

“And what are you doing here?” He nodded to himself, a little proud of his retort.

Xander’s smugness faded as he frowned, casting his eyes down. He shrugged his shoulders a little guiltily. 

“Faith and I…we kinda had a thing,” he said, walking in the room further, not looking at him at all now, but at Faith’s unconscious form. “It wasn’t a very good thing, mind you, but…” he trailed off, sighing in frustration and shaking his head.

Wesley did know about that. He’d heard Buffy and Willow gossiping in the stacks in hushed whispers about Faith and Xander’s rendezvous. Not to mention the bruises the young boy had around his neck the night Faith had escaped from his grasp. Mr Giles had managed to give him a high level explanation as to how he had acquired them shortly after.

“I see,” he said back reservedly. They were both silent for a few moments, and Wesley watched as the boy cast a somber look at Faith.

“Xander, I -”

“Don’t do that,” said Xander, looking Wesley dead in the eyes now. “I don’t wanna do that.”

Wesley closed his mouth, nodding, but also quietly relieved he didn’t have to try and explain himself.

“I am sorry for what she did to you, though,” he quickly added, and Xander shrugged, hands subconsciously going to his neck and fingering where the bruises were now hardly visible.

“First time round didn’t suck so bad,” he said with a tip of his head, before he’d realised what he had said out loud and his face flushed with embarrassment. That got a slight upturn to the sides of Wesley’s mouth.

“Quite,” he replied in response, putting his hands in his pockets and changing the subject for the sake of Xander’s own ego. “Is everybody okay? From last night? Mr Giles didn’t mention.”

“Scooby Gang are all accounted for,” Xander nodded, then quickly added with his hand gesturing towards him, “and, er, you?”

It was Wesley’s turn to scoff at him now.

“Xander, do you really want to know, or are you just trying to be polite?”

“Jury’s out,” replied Xander, a small smile on his face now. “You helped out, Wes. I can’t speak for Buffy, or for Faith, but for yesterday at least, you did alright in my books.”

Wesley’s features softened and Xander suddenly stiffened. “But don’t you go thinking that now we’re gonna’ hold hands and sing Kumbaya by the fire.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Wesley with an understanding nod. He glanced around the room. “I should…I should get going.”

“Where're you headed?” asked Xander. Wesley felt himself, again, unable to answer straight away.

“Oh,” he finally managed to say, perking up as if he had a plan. He clenched his fist by his chest fervidly, “wherever the good fight takes me.”

Xander tilted his head with a taunting roll of his eyes and Wesley lowered his hand, clearing his throat.

“Too much?”

“For you? Just a bit,” replied Xander, putting two fingers together in front of his face, before pointing one of them up into the air. “But hey, you never know. Hunt a few more demons and you might actually manage to not scream like a woman at one or two of ‘em.” He ended the sentence with a cheeky grin.

Wesley thinned his lips, but also raised his eyebrows at the thought.

“Well,” he said finally, putting out his hand stiffly. “Farewell Xander. I wish you well for your future endeavours.”

Xander looked at it for a moment before reaching out and shaking it.

“Thanks,” the young man said sincerely with a nod back at him.

Wesley looked at Faith one last time with a sad glare, before he turned and left.

And as he walked out of the hospital doors and into the sunlight, he squinted his eyes from behind his glasses. He needed to find a bus station, and more importantly, figure out where he was going. He eyed a bus stop in the distance, and scowled. Although they had discharged him from the hospital, his body still ached from the battle. He wondered how easier the commute would be if he’d had a bike of some sort.

As he started his slow walk in the Sunnydale heat, his bag rolled on the bumpy pavement beside him. His thoughts wandered back to Faith. Wesley had come to know that the girl had her own demons - and he'd certainly done nothing to help her fight them. Perhaps it was time to try.

Wesley smiled to himself as he walked. Be damned the Council, he was going rogue! To fight the good fight, one demon at a time.