vera natura

[madimpossibledreamer]

More extraneous dialogue. “Even then, I dare say disintegration would not agree with you. Care to find out?”

Main Points:
Buffy/Blake's 7 (Place in the Universe)
Chapter Summary: Jesse gets to experience the consequences of Avon's deal.
Word Count: 1872
Rating: Teen

 

Change things. Not just for some nebulous legacy you’ll never live to see, but for yourself as well. Weigh and value both.

        Jesse expects not to wake up. Neither does Avon. The fact that both wake is a shock that takes them both a moment to adjust. Another moment to sort themselves out, as neither are overmuch fond of sharing and yet will be forced to do so from now on. It’s uncomfortable, but fighting it would be impractical, given that they’re fairly certain it’s permanent, or asking for it to be undone would involve one or both of them as well as probably Blake and probably Xander ceasing to exist and therefore equally as unworkable. Likewise, it helps that despite the likelihood that their own situation suggests about Janus’ gift, they’re both impatient to go see the evidence for themselves. As such, they’re ready for the complete lack of respect or gratitude from Giles.
        “What did you do?” he snarls on waking.
        “I assume you’re intelligent enough to not be asking about my hitting you over the head. I’d apologize if it wasn’t necessary. You would’ve tried to stop me.” It’s unclear which of them is talking, but it doesn’t matter. Avon was not willing to let Blake die to his own stupidity. Jesse was not willing to let Xander die to his own stupidity, either, so in this they share a common cause.
        “You don’t know what you’ve done,” Giles states, cold and menacing. Privately Avon marks the man as one to watch. Jesse is more than a little intimidated. Essentially it comes out to the same thing.
        “You’re right.” There’s no harm admitting it. He had not done due diligence, worked out every last little bit of fine print, but he’d been on something of a deadline and had no intention of letting the chance slip through his fingers. “But I was unwilling to take the consequences of not acting.” He’d wanted to leave—leave Blake especially, more than the Liberator—but he now knows that’s impossible. No matter where he is, there is no escape. And Jesse—he’s been obsessive, terrified, for some time now, ever since he’d nearly died. It’d been so close that they’d all just clung to each other, tightly enough that an outsider like Buffy had no chance. After this, Xander will insist they all become closer, Jesse thinks, fond, annoyed, resigned. Neither of them had been much good with sharing, but they suppose they shall simply have to learn. ...Assuming Xander and Blake had survived.
        There’s no sign of Ethan. It’s not as if this is the last time they’ll see him, probably. But it had been very sensible of him to clear out at the only chance he’d had, while they and Giles were unconscious.
        The man seems primed to argue further. His efforts are spoiled as someone neither of them recognize runs in, and Avon brings up the gun on instinct. Jesse notes that it might not actually function at this point, but Avon doesn’t let a flicker of the uncertainty show on his face. “Don’t make any sudden moves, or I will kill you.”
        The teenager blinks. “I’m not alive.”
        A vampire, then. With that revelation, Jesse realizes he might’ve seen this kid at lunch. “You could always dust,” he suggests with an unpleasant smile. “Should we test it?”
        The vampire takes an involuntary step back. “I’ve been sent as part of a truce?” The uncertainty comes mostly, Jesse suspects, from fear.
        Jesse gestures abruptly for him to continue, and he does, quickly, as if any slower and he’ll get shot. “Cally and her allies rescued Drusilla, so Spike called a truce. Blake was tortured, but he’ll pull through and you’re supposed to follow me.”
        “Well?” Jesse asks impatiently. The vampire takes off at the slightest provocation, barely even pausing to see if they’re still following.
        “I can’t say anything to make you apologize for your reckless actions, can I?” Giles asks softly, just as dangerous. No, perhaps even more so. Because despite how much he tries to act like his only knowledge is book-based, how he feigns ignorance of how American teenagers work, this kind of understanding entirely counteracts that little act.
        “Given that I do not and will not regret it, no.” Any consequences he will bear willingly.
        Giles nods, apparently accepting that at least.
        And then he sees Spike. He’d made a point to memorize the vampire’s face. Not for his threats against Buffy, because pretty girl or not he hasn’t really cared. Mostly because this was the vampire who Angel had offered Xander to, and irrational or not he’d kept a grudge against him (and, more sensibly, against Angel). The vampire seems in a very good mood, actually smiling and waving.
        “How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Giles asks without preamble, causing the smile to briefly flicker.
        “Give you my word, don’t I? Up to you if you trust it, but it’s there, for what it’s worth. Dru’s safe and sound, got a bit of revenge against Travis for darin’ to lay a hand on her, and a spot of action besides. After all that, I think I can afford to be a little generous. Was Blake’s idea to rescue her in the first place.” That smug satisfaction is intimately familiar, so Avon believes it—as much as he puts any stock in the promises of others.
        “I need to see him,” Jesse insists, suddenly self-conscious as Spike eyes him thoughtfully.
        “S’pose you do,” he responds agreeably. “This way, then.”
        He finds Xander doing the same thing he always does. That Blake always does. Pretending nothing is wrong. Hiding any wounds, any hurt, tucking it away like it doesn’t matter.
        Strangling him would be counterproductive, no matter how momentarily satisfying. “Dawn, what’s wrong with him?” he asks flatly, ignoring Xander pouting in his direction.
        “What isn’t?” she asks, hiding a smile. Of course Xander starts to protest—with an accent, which would be more jarring if it wasn’t merely distracting instead—but they continue to ignore that. It’s a good cover for her answering telepathically, though. “Travis tortured him, and despite trying to demonstrate that he’s perfectly healthy he’s been a little more ginger.” Which is one of Blake’s tells; hesitant movement is often one of the only signs any of them will have that he’s wounded. His tendency to keep it to himself is probably due to his past torture under the best the Federation have to offer, that vulnerability is just a weakness and not something to be shared with friends or comrades. On Xander’s end, it’s almost certainly habit from hiding his abuse from Willow, to avoid worrying her, and in general to try to stay out of the system. “Travis used something new: some sort of serum that ensured he felt pain from everything. We picked him up to teleport him out of the cell and the second his skin was touched he didn’t stop screaming.” That explains the hoarse cadence of his voice. “Spike warned us about it, shortly before he went off to go tear through some of our pseudo-Federation guards and torturing Travis. Who I think swapped back to Angel halfway through but they kept going. Guilt maybe? I didn’t want to ask, because eww.”
        They are vampires, so it’s not unlikely, Jesse reflects. Not that he’s going to comment on that to Buffy’s little sister. Instead, he turns to Xander, arms crossed. “Xanman, we’re benching you.”
        Instantly, Xander protests. “I’m not useless!”
        “Did I say you were? You get an injury, you sit out. Or do you want me to be the one panicking over you almost having died?” Maybe a low blow, but when it’s the only thing he can use to actually get Xander to listen, he is absolutely going to use every tool at his disposal and he’s not even going to feel the slightest bit guilty about it. He can feel Spike’s eyes on him watching avidly like this is some kind of perverse kind of entertainment, but absolutely refuses to turn to look and acknowledge his audience in any way. “Get better, and you can get back in the game, but you were just tortured. You’re not in much of a shape to be arguing with me about this, and don’t you dare start with Blake’s whole ‘I get tortured every other week so this is nothing’ routine.”
        Xander drops the pout, which to everyone’s detriment shows that he’s already begun to pick up on Blake’s manipulative ways. His eyes are suspiciously bright. “That was you, wasn’t it? Willow seemed certain you’d abandoned us, but I couldn’t believe it.”
        Willow would probably be looking embarrassed if she were here, but given that she’d turned into a ghost, she’s probably back wherever she left her body. As weird as that is to say like it’s just some normal everyday occurrence.
        Jesse glances aside quickly, Avon’s humiliation burning hot and nigh-unbearable. He is no hero. “Just because you’re right for once doesn’t mean your belief in others is anything but naïveté,” he responds softly, stiffly. “Besides, I’m surprised you’re thanking me so early. I may have made some aspects of this permanent. The one behind this was a deity, Janus. I told him to do what he wanted, as long as you survived.”
        Xander shrugs, looking half-asleep. “I’m torn between passing out and echoing Blake and telling you that I’ve always trusted you.”
        Who just says that? “I recommend the former.”
        Blake nods—because this is Blake; he’s the only one who would dare keep going with Avon like this. “Fair enough. Though I should perhaps add I would’ve done the same, only for others’ safety, not my own.”
        “Your own lack of self-preservation instincts will get you into trouble someday.” He doesn’t add, as he would usually, that it’s also equally as likely to get the Liberator crew (or in this case, the Scoobies) killed too.
        Blake smiles with Xander’s mouth, but doesn’t open his eyes. Amused, possibly because he’d prefer to laugh than to cry. “I rather think it already has.”
        “I thought you were passing out.” The sooner the better, honestly.
        “Sorry, sorry,” Xander yawns, and then he’s out. Soon snoring, which means he’s probably at least going to pull through, though Jesse is going to make sure he gets some sort of medical attention, and Xander is a much better patient unconscious.
        Spike is smug and knowing. He probably has realized things Jesse and Avon would rather keep private, but there’s nothing to do about that now. It’s a problem for another day.
        From a doorway, Buffy clears her throat, having finished whatever conference she’d been having with Giles. “I’m sorry…” she begins, and Jesse holds up a hand.
        “Finish that thought and I’m going to punch you in the face, and we both know that won’t do too much other than make my hand hurt and you feel guiltier. If you want to help, pick him up and help carry him.” As much as Jesse wants to carry him to safety, he doesn’t feel like this is the point to test whether he’s also inherited Avon’s bad back.