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Random injury dialogue - 13.

It wasn’t as if Dawn wasn’t familiar with panic attacks. She was just... unfamiliar with just how panicky she felt during them. “Xan-Xander.” The call was connected, but there was no way to tell if it was his voicemail or if he’d just taken a second to greet her, “I can’t breathe.”

#hi sweets!#glorifiedbricklayer #injury meme #glorified-bricklayer

✗

Wesley sat at the table in the library, awaiting the return of the team. Despite his insistence to be part of the night mission, Giles and, quite frankly, everyone told Wesley to stay here and guard the library. Wesley wasn’t an idiot and resented the childlike responses he received from his offer, never once supposing he treated the others like children as well. So here he was, by himself late at night. He had kept himself well-occupied by reading any material that might be important in the coming days.

Suddenly the lights cut out. Wesley froze in place with a terrified expression on his face as the lights came back on. He let out a breath and glanced around nervously. When the lights flickered again he sprang to his feet, flying to the weapons cabinet and grabbing a stake and staring wide-eyed as the lights went out again. Slowly he crept into the hallway, keeping the stake raised in what he hoped (in vain) was a threatening manner.

As he turned a corner, he called quietly into the dark, “Is…is there anyone there?” He swallowed and tried his best to hide the fear in his voice. Focusing on slowing his heartbeat, he nearly leapt out his skin as he spotted movement towards the end of the hall. The figure crept along slowly. Wesley slammed his back against the wall to hide and peeked carefully around the corner and spotted the figure again. The person or creature was hunched over slightly and walked slowly. To Wesley, everything about whatever it was was horrifying.

As the being neared him, Wesley pressed his back against the wall and waited for the creature to pass him. He couldn’t tell if it was a vampire or something else, but aiming for the heart with a sharp stick would probably do enough damage. Just as the creature walked past Wesley, the junior Watcher lunged forward, piercing the creature through his back and puncturing his heart.

“Ha!” Wesley exclaimed, as the creature fell to his knees in defeat. He felt incredibly nauseous staring into the dark at the form but he couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause. Was it because that was one of the most frightening experiences in his life? Was it because of the awful groan the creature made and the feel of the warm blushing rushing out of the wound and onto Wesley’s hand? Or was it because there was something gnawing at him, screaming that things were terribly wrong.

The lights flicked back on again and Wesley let out a breath of immense relief at no longer being shrouded in darkness, but the relief turned to a rush of emptiness that made everything terribly surreal. To his surprise, the creature was wearing startlingly similar clothes to Xander. Restraining the urge to vomit, he turned the creature over, and immediately lurched backwards, hitting his back against the wall and sliding to the floor. His mouth hung open and his breathing turned erratic; the urge to be sick rising steadily as reality punched him in the gut: the dead creature was Xander.

Wesley crawled forward, repeating the word ‘no’ under his breath over and over. Reaching forward with shaking hands, in a disoriented feeble attempt, he tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. There was already so much of it drenching the student’s clothes and staining the floor, but there was no getting through to the man. Xander was dead and there was nothing he could do, but he still kept trying.

The sounds of approaching people didn’t alert Wesley until they were nearly upon the pair. Looking up, the rest of the team was staring down at him in shock and despair. Wesley looked back at them, tears brimming his eyes. “I…I thought,” he stammered, gesturing weakly with a crimson hand. Buffy was the first to move, crouching down and looking at her friend who stared, unseeing but open-eyed back at her.

“I’m…I’m so sorry…I”, Wesley tried, sitting back on his heels and glancing back and forth from Xander to Buffy, but she turned quickly, hate burning in her eyes. It was in a single moment that so much more than his career was over. This single accident had effectively destroyed everything. Buffy might kill him, and she would be right to, if Wesley lived, to what life was he returning? The prospect that his career and professional life was over didn’t phase him in the slightest and suddenly priorities aligned themselves. This poor boy’s life was worth so much more and he snuffed it out like a candle.

Their lives were so fragile and Buffy carried an immense burden that he didn’t envy. In a matter of a few seconds, everything Wesley thought was important lost its meaning and the gravity of what the team went through struck him. He wanted to say something, but there was nothing he could say. Absolutely nothing.

#glorifiedbricklayer #good god this got long

glorified-bricklayer

“oh thank god. what kind did you get?!”

❝ Chunky monkey. Is there like a slim monkey out there, being all ‘where’s my ice cream flavor’ — also don’t d r i p on the books, Giles will have a heart attack or something. ❞