Chapter 8
Scene: Outside W&H’s in-house clinic. Through the window, you can see Deth sitting at the end of a hospital bed, her legs dangling over the edge. She is dressed, though there is a hastily folded up gown on the bed next to her, implying that she only recently changed. She’s looking a bit more perky. Spike is leaning against the bed to her left. He’s shuffling a deck of cards.
Spike: “Another hand?”
Deth: “Sure.”
Spike deals out one card up and one card down to each of them. Deth looks at her card, Spike at his.
Spike: “Well?”
Deth: “Hit me.”
Spike tosses a card down—it’s a two of spades. Deth frowns slightly.
Spike: “Another one?
Deth: “Nah, I’ll stick.”
Spike: “Alright then. Dealer takes a card. [He places a card on his two—it’s an ace] Look at that—21. Again. You’re really in the hole now, pet. [smiling devilishly] S’gonna take a lot of effort to work off that kind of debt. You might have to take off a few days of work.”
Deth: [A light frown, followed by realization] “You’re cheating. You’ve been cheating this whole time.”
Spike: [shaking his head] “Can’t BELIEVE it took you so long to figure that out. You’re seriously off your game. Good thing we weren’t playing for money.”
Deth rolls her eyes and tosses her cards at him, playfully.
Switch perspectives to outside, looking in. Wesley is talking to one of the doctors just outside the door—the doctor hands him a file and then walks away. Lorne is standing at the window, looking in on Deth, waiting for Wes to approach.
Lorne: “How’s our little peanut doing? Either Tony in marketing finally talked her into that make-over, or she’s naturally dropped that vampire chic look she’s been sporting lately.”
Wesley: [without skipping a beat] “Yes, her color is a bit better. They gave her a blood transfusion last night and it seems to have helped.”
Lorne: “Any word on the cause?”
Wesley: [scanning the medical report] “Our in-house shaman hasn’t found anything unusual so far. I’d still like your friend to examine her if you can arrange it—you never know who you can trust around here.”
Lorne: “No trouble at all. Have her stop by my digs tomorrow night after American Idol.”
Wesley: “As for the medical side, nothing conclusive yet. They’d like to run a few more tests, but there is a complicating factor.”
He shows Lorne something in the report.
Lorne: [surprised] “Oh. [concerned] Oh. That spells trouble with a capital ‘P’, that rhymes with ‘T’ that stands for Tom Collins—hang on to your alcohol, it’s gonna be a bumpy night. [beat] Poor thing. Well, good luck with the messenger thing. I’d better give ol’ Sharm a call about tomorrow.”
Wesley: [lifting an eyebrow in disbelief of the name] “Sharm the shaman?”
Lorne: “Tell me about it—try to say THAT ten times fast while sweating through a Chrysellian skin curse.”
Lorne leaves and Wes frowns down at the file. Before he heads into the room, he looks up to see Illyria peering down from a balcony above. He gives her a quizzical look and she abruptly turns to leave. He opens the door and walks in. He musters an awkward smile as he approaches the bed.
Spike: “Don’t like the look of that. Let me guess, you’ve got good news and bad news.”
Wesley: “It is often the way with these things, isn’t it? [focusing on Deth] How are you feeling?”
Deth: “Better.”
She says this with an air of relief. Pause as she waits for Wesley to say something. He stands there in silence for a moment.
Wesley: “Perhaps it would be best for us to speak privately.”
Spike: “Definitely don’t like the sound of that.”
Wesley: [feigning lightness, not terribly effectively] “Oh no, not to worry. It’s simply been brought to my attention that legally there are things we’re not supposed to discuss with anyone present except family. As this is a law firm…
Deth: [not letting him finish] “But you’re not family.”
Wesley: [Doh. He would much rather discuss things without Spike in the room and was hoping to slip that one by.] “True, true. [beat] I suppose it’s up to you. If you’d prefer, Spike and I could wait outside and you could speak directly with the doctor.”
Deth: “Why? You’ve got my chart right there.”
Wesley: “There are some things the doctors would like to know. Personal things. I thought perhaps you wouldn’t be comfortable.”
Deth: [Frowning, now a little worried. Lowering her voice to a whisper.] “Honestly, I’d rather talk to you than Larry.”
Spike: “Who’s Larry?”
Deth: “Sorry, Dr. Rosen...bloom...burg...blatt. [Off of Spike’s look] Friends with Darryl—we used to double date. [beat] It was awful.”
Wesley: [frowning] “Very well. Dr. Rosenthall will be back shortly to draw some more blood. Perhaps we can cover a few things in the interim. [glancing down at the chart] The...”
Deth interjects.
Deth: “Good news first.”
Wesley: “The dichotomy is not quite so obvious. There isn’t much news at all, really. The shaman came up empty handed, though I’d like you to meet with someone who isn’t under Wolfram & Hart’s employ to confirm that negative. Medically, the doctors have been able to rule out cancer based on the results of your bone marrow biopsy. Yet the fact that you responded so well to the blood transfusion implies that you have a deficit in red blood cell production. It’s still possible that your marrow isn’t functioning properly for some other reason—there are a few more tests they’d like to perform to investigate this.”
Deth: “When?”
Wesley: “One of the tests requires the injection of a radioactive substance, which has some associated risks that you may want to consider.”
Spike: [protective] “What sort of risks?”
Wesley: [trying to be as general as possible, a touch of obvious awkwardness] “For a woman in your age group...er...in prime reproductive years...the radiation could have a mutagenic affect on...”
Deth: [following the logic] “Not a problem. I don’t want kids.”
Wesley: “Yes, well, you might change your mind.”
Deth: “I won’t.”
Wesley: [taking a breath, looking back down at the file] “The thing is, Deth, before they’ll schedule these tests, as a precaution due to the known risks, they automatically test for...the blood was already drawn so they just…[stopping himself] Actually, why don’t you just go home and get some rest. We can discuss this tomorrow.”
Finally getting that Wesley is trying to hide something from Spike, Deth decides not to protest. Plus she’s tired and ready to have a break from W&H and the doctors.
Deth: “Sure.”
Wesley: “Give me a call tomorrow. I’ll confirm your appointment with the external shaman and give you a time and place to meet.”
Deth: “Okay. [A small but sincere smile to Wes] I feel good. Thanks.”
Wesley nods and closes the file in his hand. Just then, a doctor strolls into the room.
Dr. Rosenthall: [in a bit too friendly/goofy voice] “Merry! Cannot for the life of me figure why you’d rather be called Deth than Merry. Merry is such a happy name. Not to mention that it rhymes with...”
Deth: [grimacing slightly, less than enthusiastic greeting] “Larry.”
Larry: [looking at Spike, slight change of expression.] “This the new boyfriend?”
Deth: [introductions] “Spike, Larry. Larry, Spike.”
Spike just nods, cooly—doesn’t offer a hand.
Larry: “Heard a lot about you.”
Spike: “Oh yeah? Who from?”
Larry: [ambiguously] “People talk. [turning back to Deth] Just need to get one more sample to see if your rbc count has changed significantly since the transfusion.”
Deth thrust out her arm. Larry gets to work preparing to draw a blood sample.
Larry: [as he’s collecting the blood, matter-of-factly to Wesley] “Dr. Lopez said he can squeeze her in for an ultrasound tomorrow afternoon.”
Deth: [confused] “Ultrasound? [to Wes] You didn’t mention...”
Larry: [cutting in before Wesley can respond] “We need to get an estimated age before we know how to proceed with the other tests.”
Wesley: [trying to cover] “We hadn’t actually gotten to that yet. We were going to discuss it tomorrow.”
Larry: [slightly devilish grin] “Oh, the ultrasound isn’t anything to worry about—it’ll only take a minute. Nowadays, they can take a few measurements of the fetus and estimate the age with amazing accuracy.”
Big sigh from Wesley.
Deth: [shock, confusion] “Fetus?”
Larry: [casually] “So long as it’s more than 10 weeks...”
Wesley: [threatening] “Dr. Rosenthall, can I speak with you a minute?”
Larry: [feigning surprise] “Oh, I’m sorry. You hadn’t told her she was pregnant? Gosh, this is awkward. I’ll just finish up and let you all discuss this in private.”
A few horrific moments pass before Larry takes the last tube of blood and removes the needle. Before leaving the room, he gives Spike a passing smirk before addressing Deth again.
Larry: “Hey, congratulations little lady. You take care of yourself. [as he’s walking out the door] I’ll be sure to give Darryl your regards next time I talk to him.”
Spike had stiffened at the first mention of the word ‘fetus’, not sure he’d heard correctly. By the time Larry had dropped the anvil for the third time, it was obvious he had. He pushes away from the bed and stands up straight. As the moments pass, he begins to look more and more agitated, clenching his teeth and cocking his head slightly. Wesley is the first to speak.
Wesley: “I’ll have him removed from your case immediately. I apologize. [beat] I was planning on telling you myself, but under the circumstances...[Wes glances toward Spike, concerned] Of course, you can still see the shaman and certain tests are still possible, so we can take this further. We’ll simply need to proceed with more caution.”
Spike: [deep, serious] “Mind leaving us alone for a minute?”
Wesley: [worried] “Of course. I’ll be in my office.”
During this time, Deth has been staring off to the side, a look of confusion and shock on her face, her brow furrowed deeply. Her mind can’t seem to find words, so she sits there in silence holding the cotton gauze tightly to the skin where the needle left its mark.
Spike fishes in his coat for a pack of cigarettes and in quick, deliberate motions pulls one out, lights it and takes a long drag. He doesn’t care about the no smoking signs or even Deth’s standing request. Instead of having a calming affect, the cigarette appears to ignite him. He starts shifting in place.
Spike: [angry, but still calm, dripping with threat] “Somethin’ you want to tell me, luv?”
Deth turns to him, but stays silent, unable to muster even a sound, paralyzed by his tone.
He shakes his head and with a small puff of air, begins pacing.
Spike: “I can’t even figure when you had the time, laying about like you have been. [thinking for a moment, furrowing his brow, first looking down, then back up at her] Was it Darryl? Someone in Chicago? Oh god, don’t tell me it was bloody Percy. [shakes his head to dispel the thought, then turns away as he starts to rant] You know, I don’t even care. I am so fed up with you women. Un-fucking-believable you all are. Lying, cheating, ungrateful....Why do I even bother? Why the bloody hell do I let myself expect anything? [looking back at her] Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s an explanation. I’ll probably believe you because I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to women—ask anyone. [He stops speaking only for an instant—not long enough for Deth to loosen the tightness in her throat to get a word out. He just shakes his head at her silence] You’re the worst, you are. Playing the victim, making promises...and just when I was starting to...[He doesn’t finish. He stops and clenches his jaw. He’s straining to keep his hands from turning into fists. He wants so badly to shake her, to hit her, to throw her against a wall like he could with Dru or Buffy. But he can’t because she’s breakable and he doesn’t really want to see her broken. He closes his eyes as he walks past on his way to the door, mumbling in her direction:] Shoulda known, the way we started off.”
She can’t watch him go. She stares at the shards of glass floating in the air, or so she imagines.
**
Switch to Wesley’s office. He’s reading one of W&H’s “special” books, having called up a text he’d found months ago which had a brief mention of a human like Deth—seemingly invulnerable to demons. Or perhaps it was invisible—difficult to translate, that. As he reads, the page goes blank.
Wesley: “Not again.”
Then words appear on the page:
Protect her
Wesley: “Who?”
Novaszi
He frowns in puzzlement. As if in response...
The devitsya
The deva
Wes looks up from the book, surprised.
Wesley: “Deth.”
NOVASZI
The page goes blank and the previous text resurfaces.
**
Next we’re following Illyria as she walks through the halls of W&H. She’s obviously looking for something, though as always, her movements are slow and deliberate. She pauses as she walks past an open door. She turns and finds herself at the entrance to Wolfram & Hart’s file room. The file clerk appears at the desk as Illyria approaches. She starts to speak, but Illyria quickly brings her finger to her lips and accompanies this gesture with a threatening look. The clerk’s eyes widen and she disappears. Illyria turns the corner and walks among the rows of file cabinets. She hears heavy and uneven breathing from the end of a row of cabinets and walks directly to the source. She finds Deth sitting on the floor, backed against the side of the last cabinet. She is leaning forward slightly, with tears streaming heavily down her cheeks, her breathing not quite formed into proper sobs. At the moment Illyria appears around the corner, Deth is staring curiously at her own fingers, which are wet with her tears.
Illyria: [confrontational, as always] “You hide.”
Deth: “Go away.”
Illyria: [cocking her head to the side.] “No.”
Deth wipes her eyes again with her fingers and stares at the wetness.
Illyria: [disgusted] “Now you leak like the others.”
Deth: [her voice is weak, cracking with emotion] “They don’t help...tears. People say they make you feel better, but they don’t.”
Illyria: “Why are you inflicted with this new weakness?”
Deth doesn’t respond, but at the mere thought of trying to explain it, the tears flow faster and she pulls her knees up tightly to her chest.
Illyria bends down to get a closer look at Deth’s face.
Illyria: “This is fear? No, this is pain. This is sadness. You become more like the others. I do not approve of this change.”
Deth lets out a short, stifled moan. Illyria stands up abruptly and her expression changes slightly—she is agitated.
Illyria: “Stop at once. Return to your normal state.”
Deth continues to ignore her. A flash of confused anger crosses Illyria’s face. She reaches down and starts to yank Deth to her feet.
Illyria: “You defy me. I command you to cease this and amuse me.”
Trying to pull away.
Deth: “I can’t.”
Illyria: “Explain.”
Deth: “Please, just leave me alone.”
Illyria: [surprised] “I cannot.”
Deth: [trying to placate her] “You were right. The cause is sadness. I cannot stop it until I am no longer sad.”
Illyria: [smug] “Of course I was right. [beat] Explain how to make you...’no longer sad’.”
Deth: “You can’t.”
Illyria: “I can do anything. Define the cause of this sadness.”
Illyria still has hold of Deth’s arm. Deth is standing, but now leaning back against the cabinet. Deth knows that Illyria is in no mood to let this drop—she is feeling needy. Deth takes a breath and wipes the tears from her face one more time.
Deth: “Spike, he...”
Illyria: “Spike makes you sad—I will kill him for you.” [She lets go and turns to leave.]
Deth: “No. Please, no. [She takes another breath and focuses on how to phrase this so that Illyria will understand] I am sad because Spike is angry with me—he has left me.”
Illyria: “He will not speak to you? I understand. Wesley does not speak when he is angry. Explain his anger.”
Deth: “Remember when I told you that different types cannot breed together? I’m pregnant. [off her confused look] I have an egg inside me that is growing. Spike can’t be the father, so he is angry.”
Illyria: “You cannot fertilize your own egg, as some species do?”
Deth: “No.”
Illyria: “So you have mated with your own kind.”
Deth: “No. But that is what Spike believes.”
Illyria: “Jealousy. I understand.”
Deth: [starting to cry again] “I couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t believe me. I couldn’t get the words out.”
Illyria: “Where do you house your egg?”
Deth: “Why?”
Illyria: “Show me.”
Deth points to her abdomen. Illyria roughly places her hand where Deth pointed and frowns in concentration.
Deth: [surprised/defensive] “What are you doing?”
Illyria: “Come with me.”
She grabs Deth’s arm and yanks her in the direction of the exit. Deth tries to pull away, but can’t.
Deth: “Where are we going?”
Illyria: “To Wesley.”
**
Switch to Spike walking briskly toward the entrance of a demon bar. He isn’t in the mood to be anywhere near humans right now. There are a few demons milling about outside. As he passes, they look at him and whisper, but he doesn’t notice.
The walk has calmed him a bit. He steps up to the bar, sits on a stool and orders a drink. He downs it and orders another. This one he sips. He’s still angry, but some seeds of regret are starting to form in his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh—maybe his words were too strong. He had let his anger from two previous relationships slip in and that wasn’t terribly fair. It might not have been as bad as all that—it could’ve only been the one time—that’s all it takes, right? Maybe it was just an ex-boyfriend pity shag for Darryl before he left town. Not as if he’d never had a bit on the side when the occasion called for it—maybe not since he’d been dating Deth, but before. It’s just fucking, right? [He thinks about this a minute and his blood starts to boil again. He quickly finishes his drink.] Ech, but what if it was Wesley. What if they’d been going at it every time she went to work. He flinches.
His train of thought is interrupted by the bartender pouring him another drink—single malt scotch this time.
Spike: “I didn’t order this.”
Bartender: [with a conspiratorial smile] “On the house.”
He nods a thank-you and takes a deep sip. Continuing from before…It couldn’t be Percy. No way. That guy hasn’t gotten laid in months. Maybe years. No way. But who else? When has she had the time?
The bartender pushes a big glass of blood in front of Spike.
Bartender: “Compliments of the guy in the green shirt at the end of the bar.”
Spike turns to see a vampire giving him a thumbs up and smiling. Spike gives him an awkward nod.
Spike: [to the bartender] “Mind telling him I don’t swing that way? Cheers.”
Back to his thoughts. He feels bad that he didn’t even look at her really, once he heard the news. Didn’t let her try to explain. It might not have been as bad as all that, he repeats to himself. And it’s not as if he’s in love with her or anything. What does he care if she screws around. Ok, so he does care. And it does hurt. Maybe that’s why he is so upset.
He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around. It’s another vamp—no one he recognizes. He thinks to himself, “Please don’t be looking for a fight. Not right now.”
Vamp: “Just want to let you know that we’ve got your tab for the rest of the night. Blood, booze, whatever you want.”
Spike suddenly looks around, worried that he has stumbled into a GAY demon bar by mistake. No, he’s been here before. And there are women scattered about. The hell?
Spike: “Cheers, but I think I’m good.”
At the table behind the vamp in front of him are three more guys with beers in their hand—as he looks at them, they all lift their bottles up in a silent toast.
Vamp: “Whatever you want.”
The vamp returns to the table.
Weirded out by all this, Spike decides to leave. He fishes in his coat for some money and puts a fiver down on the bar as he slides off his stool. The bartender quickly hands it back to him.
Bartender: [friendly] “Your money’s no good here.”
Spike now looks really confused, but takes the bill and starts to leave. On the way out of the bar, he hears lots of whispering. He just about crashes into another vamp who steps between him and the door as he’s looking off to the side.
Spike: “Sorry.”
Vamp2: “Listen, man, just want to say—wow. A VAMPIRE. Who woulda thought? AWESOME. You ROCK!”
He gives Spike a rough, congratulatory pat on the back as Spike walks past him toward the door.
Spike: [Mumbling to himself] “What is this, a bloody vampire pep rally?”
Just as he passes through the threshold of the door, he hears vamp2 whisper something to another demon at the next table—all he can make out is the word ‘father’. He decides to head straight back to W&H to figure out what’s going on.
**
Switch to Wesley’s office. He’s excitedly reading from one book, while an intern brings in three more. He looks more bright-eyed than he has for a while. He is just picking up the phone to call Angel when Illyria comes barging in, dragging Deth behind her. Wesley puts down the phone and turns to them. Illyria pushes Deth toward Wesley.
Illyria: “You must explain to him.”
Deth: [still teary eyed, annoyed at Illyria] “He already knows.”
Wesley: [oddly formal] “Hello, Deth. [beat] What’s this about, Illyria?”
Illyria: [to Wesley] “You explain to Spike.”
Wesley: “Explain what?”
Illyria: [pointing to Deth’s abdomen] “It is vampire.”
Deth: [whipping her head around toward Illyria] “What?”
Wesley: [not as shocked as he could be] “Impossible. Vampires are not born—they are made. You refer to them yourself as halfbreeds.”
Illyria: “Because it was does not mean it always will be.”
The phone rings. Wesley steps calmly to his desk and answers it. He talks for a few seconds and hangs up.
Illyria: “You will tell him.”
Wesley: [to Deth] “That was the clinic on the phone. Your blood sample showed a decline in red blood cell count already from this morning. Considering the circumstances, I think it would be best for you to stay here.”
Deth: “Wes, what she said—can it be true?”
Wesley: [rather coldly] “I don’t know. Can it?”
Deth is stunned by his sudden stiffness. She gives him a confused shrug.
A man arrives at the door.
Wesley: “Cameron will escort you back down to the clinic. I’ll be down in a while to discuss this further. Perhaps you should get some rest in the meantime.”
Illyria: “I will not be escorted by vermin.”
Cameron steps in and leads Deth out of Wesley’s office. Illyria stays behind a moment.
Illyria: “You will tell Spike, immediately.”
Wesley: “Whatever you say, your eminence.”
Illyria: “You lie. You mock me.”
Wesley: “Why do you show such concern for Deth?”
Illyria: “I wish her to be as she was.”
Wesley: “But why?”
Illyria: “I desire it. There need be no other explanation.”
Wes shakes his head.
Wesley: [under his breath] “Why do I bother?”
Illyria leaves and quickly catches up with Deth and her “escort”.
Illyria: “Soon you will be ‘no longer sad’. Soon things will be as they were.”
Deth: [under her breath] “Unlikely.”
**
Switch to Angel’s office. Wesley is in the process of explaining the situation.
Angel: “The book referred to her as Novaszi?”
Wesley: “Initially, it used the terms devitsya and deva, both rather generic demonic terms for maiden or virgin.”
Angel: “Not the best description of Deth. She has been dating Spike.”
Wesley: “Regardless, it was referring to her. I’ve made some progress with the name—Novaszi. There are references to it, her, across many different texts from many different areas of demonology. The odd thing is that whenever I call up one such text, I barely get through it before it vanishes from the page and I am unable to summon it again.”
Angel: “How is that possible?”
Wesley: “Perhaps someone here is trying to hide the information from me.”
Angel: “Then why let you see it at all?”
Wesley: “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m only able to see each bit of information once before it appears to be gone forever. I’m afraid that before I discovered the pattern, I skimmed quickly through a few things and didn’t absorb much. To proceed, I’ll need to take things more slowly so I can more thoroughly assimilate the information mentally.”
Angel: “Let me know what you need.”
Wesley: “It might be worth trying to get a hold of the hard copies of these texts. I’ll look into it. [beat] Before I tell you what I’ve learned so far, we should talk about a recent and perhaps quite relevant development in regards to Deth’s health.”
Angel: “Is she alright?”
Wesley: “Depends on your definition.”
*
Switch perspective to Spike approaching Angel’s office. As he barges through the door, he sees Angel looking irritated, hands on his desk, shaking his head. Wesley has just finished telling him about the pregnancy. Spike doesn’t wait for either of them to speak.
Spike: “Something really freaky is going on. I think it has something to do with Deth and me.”
Angel just snaps back at him.
Angel: “Do you have to do EVERYTHING I do? Seriously, everything? You really need to get your own life because this is getting ridiculous.”
Spike: [totally confused, annoyed at the attack] “What?”
After a cautionary look from Wesley, Angel lets out a deep sigh and glances up at the ceiling like he does when he’s annoyed.
Angel: [grouchy, petulant] “Nevermind.”
Tbc….
[Writer’s note: I’m assuming here that Spike doesn’t know the truth about Connor.]