Something To Atone For
Chapter 1: Achoo
Groaning as I stretch myself awake, the hangover is quick to catch up with me. Only getting a few seconds of clarity to glance around the trashed apartment, I realize quickly that this is not my apartment.
Definitely not my couch.
I'm not the cleanest person, but this place looks like it's been through a couple spring breaks. The stench of whisky and the faint aroma of vomit churn my stomach right as the headache strikes.
Dragging myself along the floor by instinct not my own, I spend at least an hour curled up around the toilet. When I finally manage to wipe my face and stagger to my feet, the face in the mirror is enough to send me right back to the floor.
What the hell is going on?
Coughing as I pull myself up one more time, I manage to face the stranger's face. The nearly black hair hair isn't that big of a change, only cut a lot shorter than it's been in a few years. The blue-grey eyes are the big shock and get me to turn the sink in a hurry.
No matter how many times I splash the slightly brown water against my face, the reflection doesn't fix itself.
Why do I look so familiar?
While I try not to devolve into gibbering panic at what seems to be a Face Off kind of situation, I feel a pressure building up in my nostrils. The mighty sneeze I let loose, is more than enough to answer most of my questions.
My skin is suddenly an avocado green and covered with with inch long spikes. Blood red irises almost glow back at me in the dim light, making it sink in whose body I'm in.
When I stop screaming, I take a closer look at the demonic face. Pricking my finger on one of the spines. draws both pain and blood. As I confirm this isn't just some terrible nightmare, the true danger of my situation starts sinking in.
"Impossible..." With shaking hands i reach for the bulge in my jeans and pull out an old wallet. The Irish accent is overlooked in my current shock.
I flip open the cracked brown leather and slide out the driver's licence it contains. The man is a perfect match for who I saw in the mirror before the sneeze.
"Allen Francis Doyle." The name comes out accompanied by some nervous laughter and I know I'm completely screwed.
I'm not sure how it happened and I'm almost too terrified of the answer to find out who was responsible. But I know how much danger I'm in just living in Los Angeles.
"I need to get the hell out of town." Grunting as the beginning of a plan starts to form, I leave the bathroom with a mission.
It doesn't take long to find a stack of Doyle's bills and I can only stare in disbelief at the most current date. "September seventeenth, nineteen ninety six. I think this is still before the movie..."
"I just write a few letters to the Scoobies anonymously and find some quiet little town to hide out in."
It's not like every town in the world is a secret death trap. I just need to find one with a low fatality rate and keep my head down.
Having a goal, is just enough to get me moving again. But it's not the front door I go to.
While I try to control my frantic breathing, my shaking legs bring me to the answering machine. The flashing red light lets me know it has at least one message waiting and my trembling finger presses the play button.
"I can't do this anymore Francis." A woman's voice sounds like it's trying hard not to cry.
Harriet. The name flashes from the depths of my memories and groan at the reminder Doyle had a wife.
"I love you. But you just want to wallow in your misery..." Harriet pauses long enough that I think the message is over. "I can't watch you drink yourself to death anymore."
Glancing at the empty bottles on the coffee table and the spilled bottle of sleeping pills. I understand exactly why I needed to brush my teeth so many times.
At least I don't need to feel guilty about stealing someone's life. Seems like this version of Doyle... gave his up.
"I'm staying at my mothers. Don't come here unless you're ready to be happy again." Harriet starts to cry as the message ends, the next one beginning automatically.
"This is a whole lot to take in..." The words I mutter, do very little to truly encompass my situation.
"This is Hemery High, looking for an Allen Doyle." The voice of another woman fills my apartment, this one with a far more nasal tone. "We need an English teacher and you're next on the call sheet." She pauses as she checks her paperwork. "Both the nineteenth and twentieth of this month."
That's this Thursday and Friday. I confirm with a glance at the calendar on the fridge and note it's only two days away.
Might be a good idea to put some more money in the bank before I go on the run.
Walking towards the whisky bottle on the coffee table, I hesitate right before wrapping my fingers around it.
Good thing I was always a rum man, or this would be really tempting.
It's around eleven in the morning when I dump the bottle out in the sink and start cleaning the place up. It's only a one bedroom place and more just cluttered than actually dirty.
Except for the vomit behind the couch, that was foul.
When I finally finish and drop the washcloth in the trash, it's not even three in the afternoon.
Should be clean enough to get my damage deposit back.
Over the next few hours, I pay off the many bills pilled on the counter. Wincing with each check I sign, I decide it's probably fine to accept the Hemery job.
I'm pretty sure the movie takes place in October. I should be safe from getting pulled into the action... At least as long as I'm out of the city by the end of the month.
Once I call back and accept the job, I spend the rest of my evening cleaning myself. It takes four showers before I stop reeking and I curse the Brachen sense of smell.
The next day is spent filling my fridge with food that isn't rotten and washing my clothes. I even remember to grab a few things for the students.
Doyle's style wasn't too far off from my own, with only the leather jacket being a no go.
I just hate how sticky they feel when I start sweating and that's going to happen a whole lot in California.
When Wednesday morning comes around and I arrive at Hemery High, I could swear I see Angel and Whistler across the street. It's just for a fraction of a second and both men vanished in the time it took me to blink. So I can't be sure if it was real or only my own paranoia.
The morning is easier than I expected and I'm relieved I was already working towards earning my own teaching degree.
I might have been focusing on history. But I know exactly how much the kids are going to pay attention to a sub.
When the lunch bell rings and I get my first tenth graders, I freeze at the sight of Buffy Summers on the attendance sheet. She seems completely relaxed and that is enough for me to continue calling out names.
She's way too calm to have been Called already, which means I don't need to panic yet. Taking a deep breath, I introduce myself to the class.
"None of you want to waste the day learning something the actual teacher is just going to repeat when she gets back." I grin at the suddenly interested eyes being directed at me. "So who wants to play a game instead today?"
The bag of assorted Halloween candy I pull out from behind my desk, gets the interest turned into absolute attention. "Do I need to explain the rules of Jeopardy to anyone?"
A few hands go up, only to drop back down once their neighbours fill them in in the time it takes me to set up the projector. Even Buffy gets an answer correct by the end of the day and accepts her gum with a smirk.
Nothing terrible happens for the rest of the day and I'm able to use to library to find a few possible towns to move to.
Seems like anything off the tourist path is instantly safer.
The students actually seem excited when they file into my classroom on Friday, giving me a boost of sorely needed confidence. Bribing them with candy works just as well the second time and I can't help but let my eyes drift to Buffy.
Can't believe how much she changes, she really is twice as bad as Cordelia ever was.
When I arrive back at my apartment, I finish packing my suitcases. Clothes and anything that seems like it would be more expensive to replace is all I stuff into them, with the wedding ring only staying on my hand due to forgetfulness.
"Should probably call Harriet and let her know she can have the place back." Despite knowing it's the right thing to do, I put the phone down without making the call.
I don't want her thinking Doyle is getting his shit together.
Too tired to drive tonight, I decide to get a fresh start in the morning. Except when I'm halfway to the bedroom, the buzzer announces someone wants to talk to me.
Dread suddenly fills me as I slowly approach the intercom and press the button to talk. "Who is it?"
"Lucas." The man who answers is frantic. "I'm a cousin on your mother's side and I really need to talk to you!"
"I'll buzz you inside." I'm careful not to give an actual invitation, suddenly very worried the vampires are here to greet me.
Opening the door to Lucas rushing into my apartment, quickly proves he's not a possessed corpse. "Thanks for not chasing me off. I have no one else I can turn to."
The words and desperation they are said with, pulls on my heartstrings. But his terror when describing the Scourge is contagious and stops me from getting involved.
Could also be the fact that I know how big of an army they have and how brutal they are to people like me.
"Look Lucas..." I interrupt him with guilt dripping from my voice. "I've already got a lot on my own plate and to be honest, I really have no idea what you expect me to be able to do. I'm not champion."
"But we have no one else to turn to!" The raw terror isn't enough to make me overcome my own desire to stay out of trouble.
"Who told you I was anything more than a coward?" I cross my arms and make my position clear.
Lucas growls, his face distorting as the Brachen half of him is revealed. "They're going to come for you eventually you know." He doesn't fight, instead leaving me with some foreboding words. "I hope you get just as many rejections as my family has."
When my door slams shut, I take a seat at the kitchen table. My mind races with guilt, doubt, and a dozen other emotions that do nothing but make me feel worse.
Despite how tired I was before Lucas' visit, I find myself wide awake well past midnight. I do nothing but pick at my fingers and chew on my lips, drawing blood from both before too long.
"I couldn't have done anything by myself." Trying to reassure myself for the hundredth time, I fail once more to make the shame leave me.
Sudden pain fills my skull and at first I think someone struck me from behind. But as my sight is replaced by a vision of Lucas and his family, it takes everything in me to stay upright.
The Scourge pour onto the boat being used to hide the family I turned away, each one of the monsters in matching grey uniforms. I'm forced to witness a brutal massacre and nothing I do makes the scene stop.
Every innocent on board is killed before my sight is restored. When it finally is, I'm left sweaty and shaking in my dark kitchen.
"What have I done?" Guilt builds inside of me and sends me running to the bathroom to empty my stomach.