Ripper - B/W/T - PG13

["Hunter Ash" <carrkjar@xxxxxxxxx>]

Ripper
Part 1
Red Moon, Book 7

Author: Frau Hunter Ash 
Copyright © 2003by Hunter Ash. All Rights Reserved.
Email: carrkjar@xxxxxxxxx  Feedback welcome!!
Homepage Addy: http://www.hunterash.com/ 

Disclaimers: The characters and show all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox,
Mutant Enemy, Kuzui, and God only knows whom else. The storyline,
however, is the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold
or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for
private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.

F/F romance: the story assumes a loving and sexual relationship
between people of the same gender and may even include 3 at the same
time <G>.  If this offends or is illegal for you, then please leave. 
Come back when you are older, have an open mind, moved, or changed
your laws. 

Spoilers: This series starts at Season 4 and branches off. 

Summary:  One of the Scooby Gang is missing, sending everyone into a
nightmare of anxiety and fear. The search leads the gang to a familiar
face and a new sorcerer.

Rating: PG13, UK 12, Aus M 


# # #

February in Sunnydale

Jagdesh Singh sighed as he watched the group of teens enter the store.
This was almost a regular event, happening every other day. They
would enter, cause a ruckus, steal him blind and dash for the safety
of the back streets of Sunnydale.

The Indian Sikh didn't mind so much with this group, they didn't steal
cigarettes, beer or candy, they stole cans of tuna, green beans,
chili; in other words, food.

The Sikh owner of the small mini mart remembered growing up on the
dirt streets in India, stealing to survive himself.  Jagdesh only made
halfhearted attempts to stop the teens and shrugged when his wife
demanded to know why he didn't phone the police or banish the kids
from the store.  He would just smile, remove a twenty-dollar bill from
his pocket and put it in the register.

The Sihk made a show of chasing the teens out, yelling and screaming
that he was going to call the police and then ignored his wife's
glares as he went back to work.

The small group of teens, known among the runaways and street people
as the Jesus Brigade laughed, as they ducked down a series of alleys
leading back to their residence.  This week it was an old mansion in
the dying part of town.  It wasn't bad, dark and cold at night but the
cops didn't cruise by often and there weren't any neighbors to report
their candlelight.

"Hey," Slash slowed down when they turned the corner, slowing the rest
of the group down.  He pointed and everyone crowded around the figure
on the alley floor.

It was a man and all he had on was a pair of black sweat pants. He had
his back to them and was curled up on a piece of cardboard.  

"Holy crap!" Gator, who a lifetime before had been born and raised in
Louisiana, exclaimed.  "Look at that back! Someone went nuts all over
that boy."

"Damn!" Molly muttered. "Looks like ripped up newspaper, is that his
skin?"

"Yeah," Slash said, being the one to kneel down next to the man. "Hey,
man, can you hear me?"

The man opened his eyes but didn't seem to register Slash's presence. 

"Leave him," Samson, so called because of his long hair, urged. "Just
some kinky drunk."

"Nah," Slash said softly. "His hands are hurt and that back wasn't
kinky, that was major hurt."

"He's older, not a street kid," Molly argued.

"Yeah, but he's one of us and it's getting dark," Slash smiled,
lifting something up from around the man's neck.  Molly nodded as the
dusk sunlight shone on a cheap but very large pewter cross.

Samson wore a leather collar with silver crosses tacked to it; Slash
wore three different silver crosses, each chain a different length,
creating a row of crosses down his chest.  All the other street kids
of the group wore very visible crosses, hence the name, Jesus Brigade.

Samson grabbed the man's feet as Slash moved to snatch him under the
shoulders.

Molly adjusted her own large gothic cross with an uneasy glance at the
setting sun.

# # #

Rack smiled when he spotted the red-haired witch making her way
through the crowd waiting outside his door for their magic "fix."  She
had been coming to him for over a week and the sorcerer was beyond
pleased.  Witches with power of her caliber didn't cross his threshold
often.  He was surprised some powerful sorcerer hadn't grabbed her up
for proper training.

Not that Rack was complaining. He wasn't one for training anyone.  The
sorcerer had learned his talents weren't much beyond simple casting
but his true talent lay in what he did with it.  Taking those with
slight magic talent on hazy "trips," feeding them just enough magical
energy to get them stoned, kept them coming back for more until they
were desperate enough to pay the price, that was Rack's talent. He was
a natural born "drug" dealer.

The price tag for each one was different. Most of the time it was sex,
especially from the good looking females. Sometimes money, sometimes
drugs.  It always included their magical energy until they were used
up and useless to be discarded like empty fast food bags.

So far the red-head hadn't reached the point of being desperate yet
and Rack was enjoying their "sessions."  She had an inner spark and
spunk that he liked and related too.  He could especially relate to
her darkness and knew that she had tasted it before meeting him. Rack
hoped to draw her back to that before he was done.

The sorcerer began thinking of making her a partner as the week went
on. With her power and his guidance, they could rule Sunnydale within
months.  

Rack went to the head of the line and smiled down at the one he had
nicknamed Strawberry. "Give me a minute, lover," he asked, closing the
door before she could protest they weren't lovers.  He knew that would
come in time as well. It always did.

The pusher turned his one good eye towards the curtained area at the
back of his residence and smiled.  He needed a push himself and had
the perfect solution. A ready made generator.  Of course he didn't
know how much longer this one could last, Rack had been draining him
for two months already and the man was almost mindless.

Rack walked over and squatted in front of the chained man and smiled.
"Got to remember to feed you today, don't I? You're looking a little
thin and weak."

"Balls off," the man muttered in a rare moment of life.

Rack grinned wide. He did like spunk, he also loved it when they
resisted and with this one he had free rein.

The sorcerer reached out and placed his hand over his prisoner's chest
and yanked the magical and life energy from the man, using the most
painful of methods.  His prisoner screamed as his body arched and he
struggled against the chains holding him close to the wall.  After a
moment, Rack released him and the man slumped over on his side barely
conscious, blood flowing from his nose.

Rack opened the door and motioned Strawberry inside.  The young woman
looked around and settled in her favorite spot, a large and
comfortable sofa. Rack followed her over and sat next to her. "Ready
for a ride?" he purred.

"Who's that?" Strawberry asked with a frown, pointing at the man in
chains.  The young woman could tell that the man had been there awhile
from the wounds on his wrists and ankles from the chains and his
emaciated appearance. His trousers were in tatters and he was missing
his shirt, shoes and socks.  His chest and arms were covered with
burns and cuts, obviously having been through torture.

"He's our power source, Strawberry," Rack smiled, shrugging off his
mistake of not closing the curtains. "You'll be feeding on his energy
today."

"You use him to supply your magical trips and then steal the life
force from those kids out there paying you for the trips," Strawberry
ventured with a smile. "You're clever. How long have you been doing this?"

"A lot longer than you would think," Rack laughed, reaching out to
stroke her hair.  "I'm far older than I look. The energy keeps me
young and the downfall of all those souls out there keep me alive and
give me power."

"Deals with devils?" Strawberry smirked.

"Something like that," Rack nodded.  "You want in? You could live
forever if you do it right. All those desperate kids out there, they
supply the energy and we give them moments of escape.  Think about it,
it's either us and magic or ecstasy and clubbing all night long."

"Yeah," Strawberry said slowly. "I think I do."

"You've tasted the power, I can feel it," Rack smiled, leaning back on
the sofa.

"Yes, I was almost totally over when I was nabbed by self righteous
white-light types," Strawberry growled. "They drained my energy and
put bindings on me. Took me forever to slowly work those off."

"You want it back, Strawberry?" Rack asked softly. 

"Yes," the red-head nodded firmly, glancing over at the chained
prisoner. "What's his story? He looks almost done for."

"He won't last much longer," Rack agreed. "Gotta say, he's lasted
longer than I thought. Once I got past his shields I discovered that
he was a remarkable source of power. He had been neglecting it for so
long though."

"How did you get him?" the young woman asked, sitting forward on the
sofa and looking at the prisoner as he stirred slightly.

"I bought the markers of a big time magic caster," Rack smirked.
"Seems he has this serious gambling problem and I bought his markers.
One of those who owed him was a sorcerer who owed some major magical
energy. To keep me from collecting out of his hide, he gave me his
friend."

"Oh cold!" the girl smirked.

"Totally," Rack agreed.  "We kidnapped his old mate, used the
connections they still had to bind him and start draining him."

"Will you kill him or leave him drained? Could he recover his magic?"
Strawberry asked thoughtfully.

"Possibly regain his magic someday," Rack frowned in thought. "He
probably won't though. Weird case, girlfriend. The torture I use to
build his energy and anger up has reacted badly with him."

"What do you mean?" 

"I torture them to raise their anger, makes the magic easier to
drain," Rack explained. "Then they get hopeless and their shields are
totally gone. This one, he had shields on top of shields, some of them
from himself. He cut off part of himself behind walls and refused to
deal with stuff, I guess. When I knocked those walls down, he can't
handle it and is mentally out to lunch."

"What do you mean `cut himself off'?" Strawberry asked, obviously curious.

"I've seen it a lot in the kids who come through here," Rack shrugged.
"Some of them were, or are, so abused that their minds couldn't take
it and separates into fragments. Sometimes even forming personalities
to deal with the pain and stuff."

"I remember that from psych class, alter personalities," Strawberry
nodded. "He's a multiple?"

"Not quite totally," Rack smiled. "Something happened in his youth
that snapped his mind and he totally rejected whoever he had been and
stuffed that down. Now without those shields, all that is trying to
come to the surface and he can't handle it."

"So he's retreating into what?" the girl asked with a frown.

"Into the void," Rack smirked.  "No mind, no focus, no personality."

"Catatonic? Wow! Unusual!"

"Yeah, his energy is almost done," Rack looked over at his toy without
expression. "He'll probably be dead in days. Now, let's talk about you
joining me."

Strawberry nodded, turning away from the prisoner.

# # #

The next night Strawberry was back on the sofa with Rack.  This time
he considered them as beginning partners and was moving to nuzzle her
neck, making it apparent what part of that partnership would entail. 
Strawberry bared her neck to him, pulling him closer as he moved to
kiss her.

Strawberry pushed him back slightly. He looked at her with a growl and
then a puzzled expression at her smile. "What?" he demanded.

"Equals, Rack," Strawberry insisted. "Share it with me while we do
this. I want to feel your mind and energy as you take me."

Rack moaned at the thought of finally achieving sex with the beautiful
and powerful witch and nodded. He moved to kiss her as she pulled him
on top of her on the sofa.  He felt her energy touching his and
lowered his shields enough to let her in to most of his self.

The sorcerer shouted in surprise when the door to his inner chamber
flew open. He tried to get up and found that his limbs felt like lead
and he had no energy. He looked down and found Strawberry's eyes Magic
black from her casting, from her holding him and binding him from acting.

In his doorway was a small blonde female and a young man armed with a
crossbow.

"Slayer," Rack muttered, recognizing the vague description running
around the demon bars. "Slayer and witch. Where's the other witch?" he
growled as Willow pulled herself out from under him and rushed to
Buffy's side.

"Keeping your toys out there at bay," Buffy growled. "Will, where's
Giles?"

"Curtain, over there," the witch muttered, letting Buffy wrap an arm
around her. Buffy took the crossbow from Xander, pointing it at Rack
while her friend rushed to the curtain, flinging it back.

"Hey, guys!" Xander called.

The two lovers looked over and blinked. The chains were empty and
there was no sign of Rack's prisoner other than blood-coated shackles.
Buffy turned to the sorcerer, her eyes blazing.

"Where is he?!" she shouted.

Rack smirked and refused to answer.

Buffy crossed the space quickly and brought the butt of the crossbow
up under Rack's chin, sending the man almost flying over the back of
the sofa. He slid down onto it, barely conscious.

"You like torture?" Buffy hissed, grabbing him by his genitals. "I'll
show you what real pain is if you don't tell me where he is!"

"Slayers don't kill humans," Rack muttered.

"I don't care about ethics right now," Buffy snapped. "That's my
Watcher, friend and Dad-figure. And Strawberry over there really loves
him like a dad too and she's not a Slayer. Want her to let loose on you?"

"Wouldn't dare," Rack smirked through his bloody nose.

"Xander?" Buffy called as the young man left the torture area.

"No sign, nothing left of his," Xander said softly. Buffy knew the
sight of the gore coated shackles and Willow's description of Giles
had disturbed Xander and all of them more than they were admitting to,
even to themselves.

"Will?" Buffy called, her face firm. "You tell us where he is or we
walk out of here and leave you to her."

Rack looked over with another smirk, thinking he knew
Strawberry/Willow and her limitations. His eyes widened as her eyes
changed from Magic-black to a strange yellow and black. She smiled,
revealing fangs and stretched out a hand.

The sorcerer wasn't aware that he whimpered slightly as reddish fur
sprouted on the girls' hand and the fingernails became claws. 

"Okay, all right!" he shouted. "I finished with him and tossed him
outside last night! I put a cross around his neck and threw him out!"

"Why a cross?" Buffy asked, obviously puzzled.

"A fighting chance," Rack muttered, dropping his head. "He was a
sorcerer once."

"Rack, listen closely," Buffy snarled, squatting down in front of him.
"Fair warning, pack up your traveling medicine show here and get out
of my town. Next time I'll let Strawberry take you out& painfully. You
ever see a werewolf play with its food?"

Rack turned pale and nodded.

"Come on, guys, let's find Dad," Buffy said, turning and ignoring the
pusher.

Willow smiled, releasing the magic bindings from Rack and letting the
wolf retreat inside.

Once outside the magically shielded place, Willow shivered. "Goddess,
I need a shower!"

"Did you do any energy tonight?' Buffy asked, immediately concerned.

Throughout the two weeks of drawing Rack into trusting her and finding
Giles, Willow had been dealing with negative energy.  Just the thing
she had once been addicted too.

Tara and the Magic Instructor from the Watcher's Council had worked
nightly with Willow to slowly drain the energy without hurting her and
cleansing her, letting the wolf defeat whatever negative was left behind.

"No, just him dropping his shields and me binding him," Willow sighed,
leaning into Buffy's arms as they walked around to the back of the
building.  Tara quickly rushed over to join in the hug when she saw
her wives.

After reassuring Tara that she was okay, they explained what they had
found out from Rack.

"Okay, most likely he dumped Giles back here," Xander said
thoughtfully. "Can you track him magically now that Rack and Ethan
aren't blocking you from seeing Giles?"

"More than likely, if he's alive, we'll find him now!" Willow said firmly.

"While we're following the trail like a bloodhound, would you fill me
in?" Xander asked with a trademark confused look.  "Anya and I get
home tonight from a buying trip and you grab us for attack stuff
saying you found Giles after he's been missing for two months."

"Well, Quentin suggested that we search for anyone with a connection
to Giles' past," Willow smiled. 

"That someone had to have a connection to Giles magically to block his
energy from all of us," Tara added.

"Especially you guys, major witch-fu types!" Xander agreed. "So that
led to Ethan? How did we get here and what was Willow doing with
sleaze-ball in there?"

"Well," Buffy smiled and glanced over at her wives. "Willow did the
computer hacking thing and tracked Ethan's movements from England to
here. He's been here for three months, apparently watching Giles."

"The Watcher was being watched?" Xander quipped.

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "That's what we thought and tracked him down.
Buffy did her thing and convinced him to tell us what happened with
Giles."

"Meaning she hit him until he talked," Xander smirked and Tara
giggled.  "What happened and where is Ethan?"

Willow raised her hands and chanted softly and, a moment later, Tara
joined her as they cast a spell to track their wayward Watcher.

"Ethan did some major magickal stuff and got into debt with some
unethical magic types," Buffy explained. "Sleaze-ball in there bought
the markers and Ethan was in debt to him."

Xander blinked as his face flushed with anger. "How does Giles play
into that?"

"Rack feeds on magical and life energy," Willow said over her
shoulder. "He gives just enough to take those kids on trips and then
takes years off their lives and whatever magic they possess."

"Magic, Giles once did magic," Xander nodded, following the line of
thought with a frown. "Ethan gave Giles to that bastard?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded, her eyes pained.  "Once we knew who, we had to
find where. Took Willow awhile to find this place and his junkies. She
went undercover like to find where Giles was being held and if& if he
was still alive."

"That's why she looks like a street kid. Nice Doc Martins, there,
Will. And here we are," Xander finished, looking around at the grimy
alley. "He just used up Giles and threw him out? In Sunnydale?"

"Yes," Buffy whimpered.

"Is he& can he be okay?" Xander asked softly.

"We don't know, Xan," Buffy whispered as the air around them began
humming with energy from her wives. 

"Got it," Tara smiled as a faint blue trail became visible.

"Let's get Giles back," Xander growled. "Then I want to come back and
kick that guy's ass some more."

"Total agreement, Giles then ass kicking," Buffy nodded.

# # #

Gator frowned as Molly tried to get the stranger to eat without much
success. They had managed to clean him up fairly well.  The group had
lucked out and found a house where the owners were out of town on
vacation and there weren't any noisy neighbors. That meant something
the group seldom had in their lives: electricity and clean water.

The older man didn't even flinch or cover himself when the males
pulled his sweat pants off and got him into a tub of hot water. 
Molly, having a more gentle touch, had bathed him and talked to him.

They had dressed him in a clean pair of boxers, sweat pants and an
extra-large t-shirt from the owner's dresser.

All the while, the stranger didn't react to anything.

"He's not all there, is he?" Gator asked softly.

"No, he's deep in his mind or in the ozone," Molly nodded, finally
using the spoon to open his mouth.  To her surprise he accepted the
food and began chewing.

"Hey, progress, sweet pea!" Gator grinned.

"What do you think happened to him?" Molly asked as she fed the
handsome older guy.

"Don't know, was really bad, whatever it was," Gator pondered.

"How do we help him?" Molly asked with a frown.

"We take him to the mission and leave him there in the morning,"
Samson said firmly, looking in on his two friends and stranger.

"They'll just toss him out, they won't even notice he needs help,"
Molly complained.

"Hey, buddy, you really need to snap out of this and let us help you,"
Gator urged.

Giles' focus shifted slightly, turning Magic black for a moment. The
shattered sorcerer held out his hand, clenched in a fist. Molly,
startled by the eyes changing colors, had squeaked and fell out of her
chair.

Gator, not as easily startled, reached over and unclenched Giles' hand
and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Holy Mary!"

"What is that? A fifty?" Samson squeaked.

"Yeah, it is," Gator nodded, undoing the crumbled bill.  

"It was in the clothes," Samson growled.

"No pockets and he was just naked like ten minutes ago," Molly
countered. "He hasn't been out of our sight and he hasn't gone
rummaging through drawers."

"Hey, Merlin, can you do that again?" Gator asked, grinning.

Giles' eyes shifted again and he closed his hand and opened it,
revealing a crumbled twenty. Still his eyes refused to focus on any of
the teens in the room and he showed no emotion.

"Holy!" Samson grinned.  "Merlin, keep that up and we can rent a hotel
room and have decent food."

Giles' head dropped forward, his eyes closing.

"Okay, let's put him on the sofa," Molly said firmly. "We're gonna
help him. That cross means he's one of us and not a muggle."

"We'll take care of him," Samson nodded. 

Across town Ethan would find his wallet $70 lighter and would blame
the succubus prostitute he had been with that evening. 

# # #

Willow leaned against a store wall, closed her eyes. Tara leaned
against Xander as Buffy went to Willow, wrapping an arm under the
witch's arm. 

"Baby?" she asked softly.

"We keep losing the trail," Willow complained. "His magic energy is so
faint and we can't track Giles because Giles isn't Giles anymore."

"Want to translate that, Will?" Xander asked with raised eyebrows.

"He's not leaving a signature that he normally would because he's not
mentally Giles," Tara tried to explain. "He's fighting against being
anybody and it's all erratic in his head."

"So he keeps changing his magic scent?" Xander pondered.

"I am so going to hit you for thinking of me as a bloodhound," Willow
grumbled. "When I can raise my arms again."

"What do we do, guys?" Buffy asked with a worried frown. "Do we give
up and try again or will the trail go cold?"

"We need to find him," Xander said anxiously. "I mean, the longer he's
gone the longer Quentin Travers and Watcher types stay in town."

"I know," Willow nodded. "Watching to see if I go off the deep end and
if I do Darkside Jedi stuff."

"That's not gonna happen," Buffy said firmly, kissing Willow's cheek.

"Definitely not," Willow agreed. "I'm just glad they didn't protest my
little trips to visit a sorcerer pushing black magic."

"We're not going to find him before dark and I'm wiped out," Tara said
softly.

"Let's call Brad," Xander suggested. "Now we know Giles is on the
street, maybe he and the cops can actually find something for once."

"Good idea," Buffy smiled. It had been awhile since they had seen
Detective Santiago and his wife. He was usually kept very busy since
moving from New York to the "peaceful" town of Sunnydale.  The
Detective hadn't investigated Sunnydale's high mortality rate and
unsolved crimes until he moved to the California town. He finally had
answers when he met Willow, Buffy, Tara and the other Scooby members. 

He and his wife had been accepted into the group and he had spent
numerous hours searching for Giles along with the gang and Council
members.

# # #

Brad looked up from his desk as a uniformed officer escorted a
beautiful young red-haired woman towards his work area. He wasn't
surprised to see Willow, he had seen a lot of the Scooby Gang since
Giles went missing.

He shook his head slightly as Willow sat down in a chair next to his
desk. "No definite word but we do have a possible lead," he said
softly, opening the file folder that hadn't left his side in over a
month. Reports, statements, maps and pictures of Rupert Giles greeted
Willow's green eyes.

"What kind of lead?" Willow asked, pulling a familiar picture from the
folder as her heart skipped a beat. One of the wedding pictures
showing the couples Xander and Anya and Giles and Joyce. The witch
couldn't believe how happy Giles looked that day, or any of them
actually. 

Now Joyce looked ten years older and had lost her luster, her skin
becoming almost gray. Buffy, Tara and Xander were running on caffeine
and stress. Anya was overworked running the Magic Box and everyone was
going crazy with Quentin Travers and several Watcher Council members
hovering around, trying to help but at the same time encouraging the
Slayer and witches to start moving on and back to their studies. The
last time Quentin had suggested that Buffy had nearly thrown him
through the window.

"What kind of lead?" Willow repeated as Brad shuffled through his papers. 

"A grocery store owner over on the westside thinks he's seen Giles
with some local kids. They're regulars in his place, street kids. He
wasn't sure but he thought Giles was outside the store with one of
them while the others ripped him off for food," Brad said, pointing to
a place on a map. "The kids are called the Jesus Brigade by the other
street kids and homeless."

"I've heard of them," Willow nodded. "I've spent a lot of time on the
street trying to find him. We thought he might have gotten lost in
among the homeless. They don't go out at night and all of them wear a
lot of crosses. They stick very close together."

"They know about Sunnydale," Brad nodded, pieces falling together.

"Looks like," Willow sighed. "Which means we have to find them during
the day. They disappear at night like anyone aware of what this place
holds."

"Still can't track him magically?" Brad asked wearily. He and his wife
Teresa had been spending a lot of evenings with the group, Teresa
cooking and Brad giving some relief in the seemingly endless search.  

"No, it's like trying to track three different people with the paths
criss-crossing or something," Willow frowned, trying to explain. 
"Rack said that Giles had retreated deep in his mind because he was
afraid of letting Ripper out. Being Giles hurt and being Ripper scared
him."

"So, in effect, he's nowhere," Brad nodded. "What's so horrible about
Ripper that he'd go to such extremes to avoid that?"

"We're not sure," Willow said, looking at another photo of a serious
looking Giles.  "Quentin won't tell us what he knows about Giles' past
and my hacking hasn't helped. All we can find out is surface stuff,
where he went to school, grew up and stuff. What we do know from Giles
and what he told Joyce is that he was a wild character when he was
young. He played with black magic and demons and said someone died."

"That's when he was involved with Ethan, right?" Brad ventured, having
already gone over all of this with them.

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "We know Ethan plays with dark magic and he was
close to Giles."

Both detective and witch looked up as another detective approached
Brad's desk.

"Santiago, just got a hot call," the detective grinned. "That guy
you've been looking for just showed up at Sunnydale General, some
street kids brought him in."

"Are you sure?" Brad asked, not quite believing it was that simple
after Giles being missing so long.

"Yeah, description fits pretty well," detective Romano shrugged.

Willow was on her feet, almost dancing on them, anxious to be gone.

Brad grabbed his car keys and sport jacket. "We're going to check it
out," he told Romano.

"Good luck," the other detective shook his head. "No one comes back in
this town."

"He has too!" Willow squeaked, dashing through the doors.

# # #

Willow wasn't very aware of anything when she entered the hospital
with Brad except getting to the nurse's station and demanding to know
where Giles was. Brad showed his badge and asked where the John Doe
the street kids had brought in.

Moments later they were directed to the ICU ward. 

Brad winced when a nurse finally pulled a curtain back from an ICU bed
and the detective and witch got their first look at the unidentified
male.  The detective wasn't sure he could identify him even if it was
Giles.

Willow whimpered and drew closer, trying to look past the breathing
tube, wires, and IVs surrounding the patient. A familiar tattoo caught
her attention.

"Giles," she whispered, nodding to Brad as she began to cry.

"I'll call the others and talk with the kids," Brad said softly as she
pulled a stool up to sit next to Giles.  "I'll find a doctor and we'll
figure out what's going on."

# # #

"Mom, the doctor wants to talk to all of us," Buffy said gently,
touching her mom's shoulder as Joyce held Giles' hand.

"I shouldn't leave him," Joyce whimpered.

"He'll be okay, Mom," Buffy said softly, trying not to break into
tears again as she looked at her stepfather.  "The nurses are right
there and there's all kinds of alarms hooked up to him."

Buffy pulled her Mom to her feet gently, leading her mom towards the
waiting room.  Joyce whined but allowed it.  She glanced at a clock
and couldn't believe that only an hour had passed since Brad had
called them, it felt like a lifetime.

The group had rushed to the hospital in several cars to find Willow
sitting with the Watcher and Brad questioning a group of teenagers. 

Quentin and the magical trainer stood back slightly, watching Tara and
Buffy closely. After seeing for themselves that it was Giles, the
witches and Slayer had retreated to the waiting room, leaving Joyce to
sit with her husband.

Now the street kids, Watchers, witches, detective and wife waited
impatiently for the doctor.

Dr. Franklin Washington, a middle-aged man who hated to be teased
about his name, entered the waiting room with raised eyebrows. He had
never seen so many people gathered for one patient. He didn't even try
to count.

He sat down across from Joyce and Brad, having asked the nurse who the
wife was.

"I'm Frank Washington," he said softly. "I treated your husband when
he was brought up from the Emergency Room."

"How is he?' Joyce asked anxiously, her hands rubbing together absently.

"Extremely malnourished and dehydrated," Washington said slowly.
"We're replacing his fluids as fast as we can. I'm afraid he's
suffered one cardiac arrest already and we aren't sure if he's going
through kidney failure."

"Oh God," Joyce whimpered, holding Buffy's hand tightly as Tara
wrapped an arm around Willow's shoulder.

"He wouldn't eat," one of the street kids said softly. "Then he
wouldn't drink."

"It took awhile to get this bad off," the doctor said.

"He was kidnapped and tortured before the kids found him," Brad
explained, flashing his badge.

"That explains the numerous healed cuts and badly mended broken
fingers," Washington nodded. "If he survives the starvation, we'll
have to break his fingers to reset them."

"Let me guess, his left hand," Buffy said bitterly.

"Yes, actually," Washington said, surprised.

"He's left handed," Joyce explained. "It was meant to take his music
from him."

"The kids that were taking care of him said that he hasn't said a
word, wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink anything," Brad told the doctor.

"Depression is a common side effect of starvation," Washington said
thoughtfully. "I've called a few doctors I know in New York and Los
Angeles who have treated political prisoner immigrants for suggestions."

"How soon will we know if he's going to make it?" Buffy asked.

"Forty-eight hours," he informed them. "If he does survive, his
recovery will take at least a month to rebuild enough strength to
leave the hospital. Right now he's in a coma and I don't think he's
fighting back."

"Thanks, doc," Brad sighed. 

Dr. Washington nodded and headed back to check on his patient. 

Quentin stepped forward with a frown.

"I think I might have an answer," he said slowly. "To reach Rupert and
get him to fight back but I'm not sure it would work and it would be
dangerous for one of the witches."











Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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