ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
10,622
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
10,622
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
THE WINDY CITY
CHAPTER 28 –THE WINDY CITY
The ambulance and police units arrived at The Field Museum at the same time.
"Where is he?" the ambulance crew asked.
"Over there," said the security guard that had shot him.
They knelt over the bleeding naked man; taking his vitals, "Man this guy doesn't look so good!" said the first paramedic.
"Looks like shit," said the second.
The heavyset, detective was interviewing the guard.
"And you say that he was just running through the museum naked?" he asked.
"Well, he didn't start running until I yelled out to him. Don't know what he was doing," the security guard answered.
"How'd he get in here?" the detective asked.
"Probably just hid out after the museum closed. Couldn't have gotten in any other way."
The detective walked over to one of the policeman, "Find his clothes? Any ID?"
"Nope, nothing, but it's a big place, too," he answered.
"Well search it!" the detective ordered.
The man on the ambulance stretcher struggled for consciousness. He was in severe pain. He felt people hovering by him, felt himself being poked with sharp things, felt himself lifted and moved. He wanted to say something, to cry out, to yell, anything, but he couldn't.
Once in the ambulance, the paramedics radioed in his condition, to the hospital that took their call.
The ambulance’s screaming siren jarred the man’s unconsciousness. That and the prodding that was being done to his person. He felt the rapid, forward motion beneath him, a motion so fast he thought he must be drunk. This was not the motion of the clippety, cloppety movement of a carriage ride, but something totally unworldly.
"Can you hear me sir?" the loud voice said right next to his ear. On the opposite side, another man was attending to the cut on his face.
He opened his eyes and looked around him in fright of the liquid things hanging on poles, connected by tubes to his arms. Of the motion he now knew was of something he was inside. Was this some Jules Verne nightmare he was having about time travel?
"Sir, sir? Are you awake?" the voice, asked again.
"I'm Ed McLawton, I'm a paramedic, and this," he nodded toward the other man, "is Roger Dalton, not Roger Daltry, in case you're wondering," he said, chuckling at a joke that was lost on the patient.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The man shaking with pain and fear, said, "William Worthington."
"Say it again, couldn't hear you, man," the paramedic said.
How strange these people talked!
"William Worthington," he said again.
"Good. How many fingers am I holding up?" paramedic Roger asked him.
"Three," the man said quietly.
"And what year is it?"
"Eighty," said the man, closing his eyes.
Ed said to Roger, "He say eighty?"
"Naw," said Roger, "meant eight, good thing, or he'd be about 28 years off!" he said laughing.
"Still say he said eighty," Ed grumbled.
The man woke up again.
"Know who the president is?" Ed asked.
What an odd thing to ask. President? Did he mean of the United States?
"Victoria is Queen, and Rutherford B. Hayes is President of the United States," the man answered.
The paramedics looked at each other, then back at the man again.
Ed cleared his throat, "What year did you say this was?" he asked.
"Eighty. Eighteen Eighty," the man said, not understanding why they kept asking him the same thing again.
The paramedics nodded to each other.
Roger picked up the radio-transmitter, "We got a 'live' one," he said to the emergency room physician taking his call.
The paramedics still tended to the man, but now their demeanor had changed. The man could feel it, but didn't understand it.
"Where do you live?" they asked him.
"Twenty two zero three, Highgate Rd. London," he answered.
"Do you know where you're at now?" Roger asked him.
"London," he answered.
"Sorry, to disappoint buddy, but you're in The Windy City. Home of the Bears, the Cubs, the White Sox..."
"The Daleys!" Ed chimed in, laughing.
"Worlds tallest building, best pizza joints, 2nd largest city in the country, okay, maybe 3rd," Roger conceded.
"Still don't know?" Ed asked, looking somewhat sympathetic at their bewildered, naked patient.
"You're in Chicago, William!" Ed said.
William closed his eyes, welcoming the unconsciousness, once again.
END CHAPTER 28
The ambulance and police units arrived at The Field Museum at the same time.
"Where is he?" the ambulance crew asked.
"Over there," said the security guard that had shot him.
They knelt over the bleeding naked man; taking his vitals, "Man this guy doesn't look so good!" said the first paramedic.
"Looks like shit," said the second.
The heavyset, detective was interviewing the guard.
"And you say that he was just running through the museum naked?" he asked.
"Well, he didn't start running until I yelled out to him. Don't know what he was doing," the security guard answered.
"How'd he get in here?" the detective asked.
"Probably just hid out after the museum closed. Couldn't have gotten in any other way."
The detective walked over to one of the policeman, "Find his clothes? Any ID?"
"Nope, nothing, but it's a big place, too," he answered.
"Well search it!" the detective ordered.
The man on the ambulance stretcher struggled for consciousness. He was in severe pain. He felt people hovering by him, felt himself being poked with sharp things, felt himself lifted and moved. He wanted to say something, to cry out, to yell, anything, but he couldn't.
Once in the ambulance, the paramedics radioed in his condition, to the hospital that took their call.
The ambulance’s screaming siren jarred the man’s unconsciousness. That and the prodding that was being done to his person. He felt the rapid, forward motion beneath him, a motion so fast he thought he must be drunk. This was not the motion of the clippety, cloppety movement of a carriage ride, but something totally unworldly.
"Can you hear me sir?" the loud voice said right next to his ear. On the opposite side, another man was attending to the cut on his face.
He opened his eyes and looked around him in fright of the liquid things hanging on poles, connected by tubes to his arms. Of the motion he now knew was of something he was inside. Was this some Jules Verne nightmare he was having about time travel?
"Sir, sir? Are you awake?" the voice, asked again.
"I'm Ed McLawton, I'm a paramedic, and this," he nodded toward the other man, "is Roger Dalton, not Roger Daltry, in case you're wondering," he said, chuckling at a joke that was lost on the patient.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The man shaking with pain and fear, said, "William Worthington."
"Say it again, couldn't hear you, man," the paramedic said.
How strange these people talked!
"William Worthington," he said again.
"Good. How many fingers am I holding up?" paramedic Roger asked him.
"Three," the man said quietly.
"And what year is it?"
"Eighty," said the man, closing his eyes.
Ed said to Roger, "He say eighty?"
"Naw," said Roger, "meant eight, good thing, or he'd be about 28 years off!" he said laughing.
"Still say he said eighty," Ed grumbled.
The man woke up again.
"Know who the president is?" Ed asked.
What an odd thing to ask. President? Did he mean of the United States?
"Victoria is Queen, and Rutherford B. Hayes is President of the United States," the man answered.
The paramedics looked at each other, then back at the man again.
Ed cleared his throat, "What year did you say this was?" he asked.
"Eighty. Eighteen Eighty," the man said, not understanding why they kept asking him the same thing again.
The paramedics nodded to each other.
Roger picked up the radio-transmitter, "We got a 'live' one," he said to the emergency room physician taking his call.
The paramedics still tended to the man, but now their demeanor had changed. The man could feel it, but didn't understand it.
"Where do you live?" they asked him.
"Twenty two zero three, Highgate Rd. London," he answered.
"Do you know where you're at now?" Roger asked him.
"London," he answered.
"Sorry, to disappoint buddy, but you're in The Windy City. Home of the Bears, the Cubs, the White Sox..."
"The Daleys!" Ed chimed in, laughing.
"Worlds tallest building, best pizza joints, 2nd largest city in the country, okay, maybe 3rd," Roger conceded.
"Still don't know?" Ed asked, looking somewhat sympathetic at their bewildered, naked patient.
"You're in Chicago, William!" Ed said.
William closed his eyes, welcoming the unconsciousness, once again.
END CHAPTER 28