ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
10,624
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
10,624
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.
WELCOMING THE BLACKNESS OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS
CHAPTER 30 – WELCOMING THE BLACKNESS OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS
May 20, 2008 – 4:00am
Once again, the man's unconsciousness was jarred, this time by the gurney he was on being taken off of the moving machine he had been on. He opened his eyes and saw Ed and Roger at his head and foot as he was wheeled through big doors that magically seemed to slide open, without anybody touching them.
His eyes hurt as the bright tubes of light shone down from overhead. He had never seen such lit up tubes as these. But he didn't have much time to wonder about such things as lighted tubes, as he was wheeled into a larger room.
"Ready?" asked Ed.
"Ready," answered Roger and a dark man in a maroon uniform of some sort.
"On my count then. One, two, three!" Ed said.
"Aggghh," moaned the man as he was moved from the gurney to an examining table.
“Okay, guys, think we got it from here,” the nurse told him.
“Bye William, you take care now, you’re in good hands,” Ed said.
The man briefly opened his eyes at hearing his name.
The dark skinned man was at his bedside now, taking his vitals and talking to him.
“Says your name is William Worthington, that right?” he asked.
The man opened his eyes and looked at the other man, fear in his eyes.
He nodded.
“Good. Know where you live?” he asked.
"Twenty two zero three, Highgate Rd. London," he answered, “who are you?” he asked.
“You visiting from out of town?” the man asked, “I’m Leroy Roberts, I’m your nurse.”
Now he knew something was terribly wrong! There was no such thing as a male nurse, no such thing as a black nurse where he lived. He had only seen a few black people in his whole life and they had been servants to one of his classmate’s family for a brief time.
“I don’t believe you, there is no such thing as a male nurse, nursing is a woman’s profession. And you’re…a Negro, too,” the man said, “tell me where I am!” he said, his voice shaking with fear and pain
Leroy took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. Still after all these years, here comes some moron caught naked running around in a museum, and he’s gonna tell me who I am and am not! Asshole!
“You’re in the emergency room at The University of Chicago,” the man said.
“NO!”
“Yeah man, you are. Now why don’t you just take it easy,” he leaned in close, “so my black-male-nurse’s ass can help you here,” he stood back up, then said in bestbest old southern accent, “yous looked like you been in a heap ‘o trouble tonight, boss.”
The man lying on the table looked shocked, but didn’t say anything.
“Why were you in The Field Museum?” Leroy asked, looking at the notes from the paramedics.
“Where?”
“The Field Museum, where they found you.”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
Field Museum?
“Says the guard shot you after he found you running naked through the first floor of the museum.”
“Shot? Shot?” the man asked, starting to panic.
“Yeah, man, you been shot, join the ever growing club of the ‘been shots’ in Chicago,” he said.
“I don’t know, I don’t remember. All I remember was the party,” the man said.
“Ah…party, lots of bad stuff starts with a party,” Leroy chuckled, “tell me about it.”
“Well, it was at my brother’s friend’s house. His sister Cecily was there and some other girls. I was sitting there and then…”
“Then you don’t remember what? You take any drugs?”
“Drugs? Certainly not! What do you take me for,” he said, as a wave of pain hit him again.
“Don’t take you for anything man, seen lots of people, good, bad, rich, poor, all colors, messed up because of drugs.”
“Not where I come from, only the lowest of the low classes every touch opium.”
“Opium, huh?” Leroy said, shaking his head. This was one strange dude!
“What about drinking? Do any of that?” Leroy asked him.
“Of course I have a cocktail every now and then. A sherry or a brandy. Nothing much, nothing…” he stopped.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just that…my brother, I think…”
“What about your brother?”
William closed his eyes. That must be it! How else could he explain all this strangeness.
“I think my brother poisoned me,” he said.
“What? Poisoned you? With what?” Leroy said, taking a close look at the man.
“Absinthe. Think he must have slipped some into my other drinks,” he said.
“Absinthe, huh? Don’t come by that too easy ‘round here anymore,” Leroy said, remembering the old stories his grandmother used to tell of people going blind and crazy from drinking that stuff.
“Well, we can test you for that, see if that’s why you don’t seem to know much ‘bout what’s going on. Got a few more questions for you, then doc will be in to see you,” he said, turning the page on his clipboard.
“Okay, William,” he started, “anybody I can phone for you? Any friends or family?”
“Phone?” William asked.
“Yeah, man, phone, email, fax,” Leroy said.
“I don’t know what these words mean,” William said, getting agitated.
Leroy looked down at the notes from the paramedics again. “Uh, oh,” he thought.
“William, what year is it?” he asked.
“Eighteen Eighty, why does everyone keep asking me that, don’t you know yourselves?”
The man looked at William and shook his head, “Dude,” he said sadly.
“Dude? What’s dude? Why do you look at me like that? What’s wrong with me?”
Leroy leaned in close to the man, “William, listen to me, if you don’t want to have a nice long vacation at the funny farm, you’d better stop saying that.”
William looked at Leroy’s dark brown eyes and saw that he was being serious.
“What? Say what?” he asked frightened.
“That it’s eighteen eighty, man!” Leroy said.
“Why? Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth,” he said, looking at Leroy’s face, “isn’t it?” he asked, all of a sudden afraid.
Leroy shook his head, “Naw, man, you got to be kidding. I know you got to know, somewhere deep down inside you,” he said, “you got to know that it’s 2008!”
William looked at Leroy as if he had just grown three heads. His own head swam with terror and pain, as he once more, welcomed the blackness of unconsciousness.
END CHAPTER 30
May 20, 2008 – 4:00am
Once again, the man's unconsciousness was jarred, this time by the gurney he was on being taken off of the moving machine he had been on. He opened his eyes and saw Ed and Roger at his head and foot as he was wheeled through big doors that magically seemed to slide open, without anybody touching them.
His eyes hurt as the bright tubes of light shone down from overhead. He had never seen such lit up tubes as these. But he didn't have much time to wonder about such things as lighted tubes, as he was wheeled into a larger room.
"Ready?" asked Ed.
"Ready," answered Roger and a dark man in a maroon uniform of some sort.
"On my count then. One, two, three!" Ed said.
"Aggghh," moaned the man as he was moved from the gurney to an examining table.
“Okay, guys, think we got it from here,” the nurse told him.
“Bye William, you take care now, you’re in good hands,” Ed said.
The man briefly opened his eyes at hearing his name.
The dark skinned man was at his bedside now, taking his vitals and talking to him.
“Says your name is William Worthington, that right?” he asked.
The man opened his eyes and looked at the other man, fear in his eyes.
He nodded.
“Good. Know where you live?” he asked.
"Twenty two zero three, Highgate Rd. London," he answered, “who are you?” he asked.
“You visiting from out of town?” the man asked, “I’m Leroy Roberts, I’m your nurse.”
Now he knew something was terribly wrong! There was no such thing as a male nurse, no such thing as a black nurse where he lived. He had only seen a few black people in his whole life and they had been servants to one of his classmate’s family for a brief time.
“I don’t believe you, there is no such thing as a male nurse, nursing is a woman’s profession. And you’re…a Negro, too,” the man said, “tell me where I am!” he said, his voice shaking with fear and pain
Leroy took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. Still after all these years, here comes some moron caught naked running around in a museum, and he’s gonna tell me who I am and am not! Asshole!
“You’re in the emergency room at The University of Chicago,” the man said.
“NO!”
“Yeah man, you are. Now why don’t you just take it easy,” he leaned in close, “so my black-male-nurse’s ass can help you here,” he stood back up, then said in bestbest old southern accent, “yous looked like you been in a heap ‘o trouble tonight, boss.”
The man lying on the table looked shocked, but didn’t say anything.
“Why were you in The Field Museum?” Leroy asked, looking at the notes from the paramedics.
“Where?”
“The Field Museum, where they found you.”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
Field Museum?
“Says the guard shot you after he found you running naked through the first floor of the museum.”
“Shot? Shot?” the man asked, starting to panic.
“Yeah, man, you been shot, join the ever growing club of the ‘been shots’ in Chicago,” he said.
“I don’t know, I don’t remember. All I remember was the party,” the man said.
“Ah…party, lots of bad stuff starts with a party,” Leroy chuckled, “tell me about it.”
“Well, it was at my brother’s friend’s house. His sister Cecily was there and some other girls. I was sitting there and then…”
“Then you don’t remember what? You take any drugs?”
“Drugs? Certainly not! What do you take me for,” he said, as a wave of pain hit him again.
“Don’t take you for anything man, seen lots of people, good, bad, rich, poor, all colors, messed up because of drugs.”
“Not where I come from, only the lowest of the low classes every touch opium.”
“Opium, huh?” Leroy said, shaking his head. This was one strange dude!
“What about drinking? Do any of that?” Leroy asked him.
“Of course I have a cocktail every now and then. A sherry or a brandy. Nothing much, nothing…” he stopped.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just that…my brother, I think…”
“What about your brother?”
William closed his eyes. That must be it! How else could he explain all this strangeness.
“I think my brother poisoned me,” he said.
“What? Poisoned you? With what?” Leroy said, taking a close look at the man.
“Absinthe. Think he must have slipped some into my other drinks,” he said.
“Absinthe, huh? Don’t come by that too easy ‘round here anymore,” Leroy said, remembering the old stories his grandmother used to tell of people going blind and crazy from drinking that stuff.
“Well, we can test you for that, see if that’s why you don’t seem to know much ‘bout what’s going on. Got a few more questions for you, then doc will be in to see you,” he said, turning the page on his clipboard.
“Okay, William,” he started, “anybody I can phone for you? Any friends or family?”
“Phone?” William asked.
“Yeah, man, phone, email, fax,” Leroy said.
“I don’t know what these words mean,” William said, getting agitated.
Leroy looked down at the notes from the paramedics again. “Uh, oh,” he thought.
“William, what year is it?” he asked.
“Eighteen Eighty, why does everyone keep asking me that, don’t you know yourselves?”
The man looked at William and shook his head, “Dude,” he said sadly.
“Dude? What’s dude? Why do you look at me like that? What’s wrong with me?”
Leroy leaned in close to the man, “William, listen to me, if you don’t want to have a nice long vacation at the funny farm, you’d better stop saying that.”
William looked at Leroy’s dark brown eyes and saw that he was being serious.
“What? Say what?” he asked frightened.
“That it’s eighteen eighty, man!” Leroy said.
“Why? Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth,” he said, looking at Leroy’s face, “isn’t it?” he asked, all of a sudden afraid.
Leroy shook his head, “Naw, man, you got to be kidding. I know you got to know, somewhere deep down inside you,” he said, “you got to know that it’s 2008!”
William looked at Leroy as if he had just grown three heads. His own head swam with terror and pain, as he once more, welcomed the blackness of unconsciousness.
END CHAPTER 30