Warped Reflection
Part Five: Flashpoint
by Ruth Quist

SUMMARY: What would happen if you looked in the mirror and you weren’t there?

RATING: FRT [V] [L] [A] [AU]

DISCLAIMERS: This fan fiction is copyrighted (2004) by the author. No infringement on the rights of Mutant Enemy, Inc., Greenwolf Corp., Lazy Dave, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, Twentieth Century Fox Television, UPN or The WB, or any other legitimate holders of copyright for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, or any other characters contained therein is intended. This material is produced entirely for the entertainment of fans. No profit is made.

SPOILERS: Spoilers for up to the end of Season 4 (In fact, it is assumed that you’ve seen Season 4. It will be hard to read this if you haven’t.). Minor spoilers for Season 5. Mostly related to characters introduced this season.

DISTRIBUTION: Please ask if you want it.

ASSUMPTIONS: (Spoiler warning!) They still haven’t explained how the Connor related mind wipe works. For the purposes of this fiction, it is assumed that all the events that happened are remembered exactly how they happened. Conner was simply edited from those memories. (i.e. Justine cut Wesley’s throat and he remembers that, but he doesn’t remember the baby being in his arms or her taking Conner.) As you can imagine, this leave’s weird gaps in everyone’s memory. People don’t question this because, as a part of the magical process to create the mind wipe, they were told not to question it. This also means that everyone’s emotional state is pretty much the same as it was before the mind wipe. Aren’t I nice to tell you? Now if Joss would just tell us!

Angel pulled up to Wesley’s apartment and parked.  It was a beautiful, clear, moonlit night and the pleasantly warm air caressed his skin.  He took in a deep unnecessary breath.  It was a good night for a hunt.  He estimated the time and decided Wesley was probably still in the shower.  He leaned back to relax and wait.

*******************************************************************

Winston took an inspection tour around his brother, looking up and down at him.  Wesley was reminded of a general inspecting a slovenly soldier.  Wesley stood, with complete disinterest, staring straight ahead.

“You know, it’s actually quite funny.  I dressed up for the part and everything and look at you!  Here I come in all ‘Mr. Chips’ and I apparently should have done a ‘Rambo’.” 

Wesley quirked up an eyebrow, “I see you managed to keep up with the latest at the cinema, despite Father’s rather rigorous regimen.”

Winston swept his arms wide.  “Ah, well, after your absolutely brilliant performance at the Hellmouth, there wasn’t much else for it but to get stuck in and get the job done, little brother.  You may have made the mistakes, but we paid for them.”  He’d stopped directly in front of Wesley, glaring at Wesley as if daring him to deny it. 

Wesley looked straight at Winston, “I was perfectly willing to pay for my own cock-ups.  Unfortunately, the council, ‘and father’, choose to leave me here, with insufficient funds to come home and be lectured endlessly about my inadequacies.”

*******************************************************************

Fred watched intently while Willow spread an ochre colored sand over a map of the city.  Willow muttered a few words under her breath and, as both women flinched back closing their eyes, all the sand blew off the map in a red whirlwind dissipating into nothingness.  Both women bent over the map to look at the one location with sand still on it.

Willow pointed, “That’s where Wesley’s brother is at.”

Fred looked in growing horror, “But that’s Wesley’s apartment building!”

*******************************************************************

“Did you ever consider, perhaps if you had come back, you’d be the vampire and I’d be the fearless watcher trying to stake you.  Of course, I’d still be a watcher, unlike you.”  Winston laughed tauntingly. 

Wesley replied calmly, “Well, it looks like neither of us are watchers anymore.”

“True, quite true,” Winston turned away abruptly. “I suppose it’s up to dear Mary now.  Of course she’s a girl so she’ll never live up to Father’s standards.”  Winston turned back to look at Wesley, “I always rather thought that was why you couldn’t live up to Father’s standards either.”

Wesley’s jaw tensed in anger, but he showed no other sign of acknowledgement. 

A phone rang in Winston’s jacket.  He nodded his head and the vampires around Wesley held him tightly again, while the acne scarred teen jerked Wesley’s head back and firmly covered his mouth with one hand. 

Winston flipped the phone open and answered, “Pryce here…He is?...Well, don’t worry my dear.  He can’t get in here without an invitation, and I can assure you he won’t get one.”  The vampires in the room snickered quietly, while Wesley desperately struggled, making unintelligible noises under the confining hand, until Winston, irritated, motioned for quiet. 

Acne boy, trying to keep Wesley quiet, grabbed Wesley’s throat with his other hand, choking Wesley into silence.

Winston continued, “No, I’m quite safe.  I’ll call Angel and inform him.  Thank you for the warning… Yes, I’ll stay put until Angel arrives.  Bye.” 

He snapped the phone closed and laughed, “I love this game!  It’s so fun.  All those wasted years of stuffy academics and ridiculous watcher rules.  I feel so free!” 

He looked down at the phone, “I like that little bird of yours.  She’s pretty.  All those letters to Mary about your little ‘family’, pictures and all.”  Winston suddenly realized his intended audience was ominously quiet and looked up.  Wesley was sagging in the arms of his captors, his face red, and unconscious-or dead.

Winston strode up, yelling, “Let him go, you idiots!”  Wesley dropped to his knees as the frightened minions let go and backed off.

Before Wesley could fall flat on his face, Winston grabbed his collar, shaking him back and forth.  Winston said worriedly, “Wesley?  Wesley?”  Wesley, his head flapping back and forth, began coughing and reached up with one hand to grip his brother’s fist.  Winston immediately loosed his hold, supporting his brother, but not shaking him. 

Winston stroked Wesley’s face in an obscene mockery of affection and said soothingly, “That’s
better.  Nobody’s allowed to kill you, Wesley.  Nobody but me.”

*******************************************************************

Fred cut off the call and then began frantically dialing another number.  Willow, curious, said, “What’s wrong?  You got through to him, right?”

Fred finished punching numbers and put the phone to her head.  While she waited for an answer to her call, she answered Willow, “That wasn’t Wesley!”  She stamped impatiently, “Come on, come on. Please have a charged phone for once!”

*******************************************************************

Angel heard the chirrup of his phone and sat up.  One of the law firm’s lackeys had ingratiatingly replaced his battery during the whole ‘Slayer rescue’ operation.  Now, if he could just figure out how to turn it on.

*******************************************************************

Wesley jerked away from the vampire’s hold.  He was still on his knees and he tried to massage his throat back into working.  Only partially successful, he rasped, spitting his words out angrily, “If you’re going to kill me, just do it and be done!”

“I will, Wesley.”  Winston’s moved closer, his face deadly serious, “I thought I’d play with you longer, but I realized if I had you on my side as my childe, I could take out your entire ‘family’ using you as the ‘stake.’”

“Never.” Wesley managed to scrape the word out.  At the same time, he reached one hand surreptitiously into the inner lining of his other sleeve.  Tugging on a loose thread, he opened a small pocket sewn in there.

“You and I are family, Wesley.  Part of the same blood.  We are brothers, more than that, we are twins and that means we have a special connection!  I plan to make that true forever!” 

Wesley lowered the hand with the now opened pocket inside his jacket sleeve lining.  He cupped the hand to allow the powder inside to flow into his hand.  He moved his other hand more vigorously at his throat to keep attention away from his activities.  His voice was a little stronger as he spoke, “You’re not my brother, You’re the thing that killed him.” 

Winston smiled, “Oh yes, the party line.  I have the most interesting tale to tell.  But we’ll just have to continue that chat later.” 

He grabbed Wesley’s collar again, menace in every move, and his face shifted into the distorted ridges and fangs of a vampire.  Wesley gaped at the change.  He’d known Winston was a vampire.  But seeing him like this made it…real.  He felt a pang at the loss of his brother.  They’d never gotten along, but Winston was right.  They were connected. 

As Winston leaned over to bite, Wesley slammed his open palm into Winston’s nose, threw the powder into a circle around him, and dropped to the ground shouting, “Cremo onmino cito infiri!”

Winston, cried out in pain cradling his damaged face, but still had the presence of mind to bodily throw himself over the couch as he heard Wesley’s shout.  At the same time the front door slammed open and Angel charged in, just in time to be thrown back out by a blistering explosion of blast and flame.  Loud, high pitched screams were suddenly cut off in the swirling fire and smoke.  The flames died down almost as fast as they had come.  All that was left was smoke and silence.

“Wesley?  Wesley!  Where are you?”  Angel picked his way carefully through the thick smoke, small bits of plaster crunched underfoot at each step.  Hearing the sound of coughing, Angel moved towards the center of the room.  He could dimly make out a huddled form on the floor, chunks of plaster scattered around it.

“Wesley?” Angel helped the man up, who immediately bent over double as he started another coughing fit.  

The smoke slowly cleared enough to tell the rest of the room was empty.  Wesley was able to speak, his throat raw and rough, “I think I immolated them.  Did you see my br…um, Winston?”

Angel, propping up the Englishman, shook his head, “No, Wes.”

In the distance they could both hear sirens.  “Let’s get you out of here so you can breath.”  Angel started to guide the other man out of the room.

“Hey, Wussley!  We’ll continue this little heart-to-heart later.”  Winston leaned against a window at the far end of the room.

Wesley croaked out the words angrily, “You soulless fiend!  You stay away from us!” 

Angel was torn between supporting his friend or letting him go and charging Winston.

Winston stood and said cheekily, “I’ll give you fiend, but who said I don’t have a soul?”  With that, he crashed through the window’s glass.

“Go after him,” Wesley’s voice was barely above a whisper.  Wesley pushed away from Angel and clutched the door frame, supporting himself.  Angel ran over to the window and jumped out.

The sirens wailed loudly in Wesley’s ears as he slumped down to the ground.

*******************************************************************

“How did you know it wasn’t me?” Wesley’s voice was almost back to normal.  He and Fred sat in his office waiting for Angel to finish talking to the Lawyers who’d gotten Wesley released from the police station.

“Well, you…I mean, Winston called me ‘my dear’.  Not really something I think of you saying.”  Wesley looked away uncomfortably.  Fred continued on blithely, “And I remembered, after he started talking, that you had to borrow a phone at the medical section because you’d lost your cell phone.  Good thing I didn’t remember that beforehand, or I never would have called.  So, how are you doing?”

Wesley rubbed his bruised throat, “Not too bad.  My throat and ribs are a little sore and I do seem to keep adding to my collection of bruises.  But I’ll be okay.”

Fred’s worry was apparent, “You’re not going back out looking for Winston now are you?”

Wesley dropped his head back tiredly against the headrest of the chair, “No, Fred.  If Angel couldn’t find him, I suppose I might as well wait.  I’ll give up for tonight and start fresh tomorrow-after I meet with Faith and Giles that is.  In fact, I thought I might just sleep here tonight.  After dealing with the police for three hours, I’ve had enough fun for the night.  I’d probably still be at the police station if it wasn’t for my evil lawyers.  They seem to have convinced the police that I was a victim and not Mr. Bugatti’s murderer.”  Wesley flashed a small smile briefly, “Ironic that its true.  Anyway, I have a lead I can only follow up during the day.”

Fred asked curiously, “You got a lead?  What lead is that?”

Wesley reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card, “This was on the floor after Winston left.  It could have belonged to Mr. Bugatti, but I think I probably would have noticed it beforehand if it was.  It was in plain sight.” 

Wesley closed his eyes and sighed, “I found it when I was putting my weapons away.  I didn’t want the police to find them.  Thank God I took the bars out of the closet.  I can’t imagine how I would have explained…”  Suddenly realizing exactly what he was saying, Wesley snapped his eyes open and his mouth shut.  Damn!  He really needed to sleep.

Fred was looking intently at the card and apparently didn’t hear him, “What in the world would your brother want with a real estate agent?  I didn’t think vampires bought real estate?”  I thought they kinda ate their way into places to stay?” 

Wesley shook his head, “I don’t know.  But I intend to find out tomorrow.”

“Wesley, I was wondering, why did your brother call you Junior?  Are you named after your father?”

Wesley gave a short humorless laugh and turned his head to look at Fred, “No!  The last thing my father would want is for me to share is his name.  I’m sure he regrets having to share his last name.  As far as Winston and his junior comment, that was just his little joke.  A constant reminder that he was the heir and I wasn’t.”

“Why did Winston hate you so much?”  Fred looked down at her hands, twisting them together.  Her hair covered her face as she spoke, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to tell me.  I mean, it must be painful to talk about it.”

Wesley leaned his head back again and looked unseeing at the far wall, “There isn’t much about my family I can talk about without pain being a factor.  Even though my brother was the heir, and my father treated him far better than my sister or I, he was also held to a higher standard and expected to succeed.”

“A higher standard than you?  Wesley, I don’t know anything about your childhood, but you seem to be almost obsessive about details.”

“Oh, I was held to a high standard too.  My father just always assumed I would fail and stood ready to correct my every fault.  He could be quite…harsh.”

Fred was perplexed, “How was that different from your brother?”

Wesley leaned his chair back, exhaustion overwhelming his normal reticence, “The difference is, my father always assumed Winston would succeed and for the most part, he was right.  However, I started to far outstrip my brother in academics and I’m sure it irked both of them.  My brother was very physically able and intelligent, but he just didn’t have the same facility, or patience, for ancient languages or research as I did.”

“To my father, the fact that I could succeed just meant the bar was set too low.  My brother felt that pressure and made sure I…suffered for it.  In many ways I paid more for my successes than my failures.”

Fred found it hard to believe a brother could be that way.  But a father!  How could a father do such terrible things to his own son, “Forgive me Wesley, but your father sounds…evil.” 

Wesley looked down at his hands as if he’d never seen them before, “I once told Angel a Father doesn’t have to be possessed by a demon to terrorize his children.  I’m living proof.” 

Fred speechless, moved around the desk, knelt down, and took Wesley’s hands gently.  He looked down at her.  His eyes at first tormented by a reality he couldn’t change.  However, her touch communicated a small degree of peace and he relaxed.  “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” Fred whispered back. 

Wesley reached one hand up to gently cup her face.  She flinched slightly, and he drew a deep shuddering breath and withdrew his hands, sliding the chair to face the desk. 

Fred regretted her rejection as soon as she did it.  The momentary flash of pain in his eyes disappeared behind the shutters he slammed down to hide his feelings.  She hated that cold, blank, emotionless look he’d worn all last year.  Watching it reappear hurt.  She didn’t know what to say, how to take it back, and her scattered thoughts sought something, anything to say.  Her tones sounded high and stilted, “Seems strange, doesn’t it, Wesley.  How different you and Winston are.  You bein’ twins an’ all.”

Wesley realized his hands were tightly fisted and laid them flat on the desk. He reflected over her question, “Yes, I agree.  However, there it is.  I suppose if you joined the two of us together, that son might have satisfied my father’s ideal of perfection.” 

Wesley sighed, “However, I doubt it.”

© June 2004

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