__Tears__
By Kath
It all started with a tightening of the throat, his tongue plastered to the
roof of his mouth, as though the constant pressure could prevent the
inevitable...and it was inevitable. He was going to cry.
Wesley had gotten as far as his bike, out behind the Hyperion Hotel,
when he was forced to stop. Vision blurring with suppressed tears, he
fumbled in his pocket for his neatly pressed handkerchief. It was the
former Watcher's experience that there were three kinds of tears:
happy, sad, and hurt or angry. It was this third kind - the one he was all
too familiar with - that generally led to burning, red eyes, a runny nose,
and a rather unattractive appearance.
*sniff*
He might as well get it over with. He wasn't going to be able to ride
home until he could see clearly again. Yet, still he resisted, blowing his
nose and trying desperately not to think about what had just transpired
inside, in his former place of employment. Okay, that was not a good
start to avoiding the subject.
Sacked. He had been sacked - *again*. Anger coursed through
Wesley's body, shaking his bones and tensing his muscles. His hands
clenched into fists at his sides, without him even realizing it. Knowing
Angel was wrong, and they were right, didn't change the fact that the
vampire had shut out his three employees completely, in his hour of
need, tossing them aside as if their friendship meant nothing to him.
*sniff*
Pain and hurt cracked through the anger now, bursting through like an
ocean wave crashing onto the beach. Hot, salty tears welled up,
balancing on the ends of his eyelashes, before spilling over, onto his
cheeks. Wesley blew his nose loudly a second time, and tried to take a
deep, cleansing breath. What came out was more of a ragged wheeze,
as he suppressed the sob that rose up and settled uncomfortably into
the back of his throat.
*Hic*
Wonderful. He surely must be a sight...nose running, hiccuping, tears
staining his face.... Thank goodness the others weren't there to see him
like this.
As if on cue, Wesley heard a noise behind him. Maybe if he didn't
move, didn't turn around, whoever it was would go away. Just don't let
it be Gunn...or worse, Angel, come to throw him off the premises.
"Wesley?" Cordelia's tentative voice reached out to him.
Ducking his head down and turning ever so slightly, Wesley was able to
see them both behind him...Cordy and Gunn. He was trapped. Reach
up to wipe away the tears and they would know....leave them there, and
they would still find out. Making his decision, he mopped at his face
with the back of his hand, and blew his nose one more time, before
turning to face his former coworkers.
Cordelia's face wore a solemn, stricken expression. Gunn seemed to
still be in shock.
"Oh, Wesley..." Cordy moved to him, wrapping her arms around his
waist, her head resting on his shoulder. Gunn hovered behind her,
shuffling uncomfortably.
"It will be alright, Cordelia. We'll work through this. Angel just isn't
himself, right now." Wesley's need to comfort his friend made him
forget his own sorrows, as he patted her awkwardly on the back.
"What are we gonna do now, man?"
Stunned, Wesley suddenly came to a realization. Both these young
people were looking to him for answers, for leadership. Without Angel
to guide them, someone needed to take charge, and he was the eldest,
the one with the training. He knew it was inappropriate, under the
circumstances, but he nearly grinned at the thought.
"Right, well, Cordelia you go with Gunn in his truck and we'll meet at
your flat. We'll come up with a plan together. We will *not* lose
Angel, I promise you. We won't give up on him, until we've brought him
back to us." He tried to sound confident, allowing a gentle smile to
tweak at the corners of his mouth. Gunn nodded slowly, in agreement,
and Cordy pulled back to return his smile gratefully.
The tall man watched the others get into the truck, before climbing onto
his motorcycle, slipping his helmet on, and sliding his glasses back into
place. Sparing one final look up at the hotel, Wesley sighed, as he
turned the key in the ignition, the motor's roar to life mirroring the
energy and determination he now felt soaring in his heart. He was
needed. He would be back....*they* would be back....Angel would be
saved...whether he liked it or not.
* * *