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The evilest evil that ever did evil [userpic]
Chapter 3
by The evilest evil that ever did evil (remember_nomore)
at April 17th, 2006 (12:50 pm)

current mood: accomplished

Title: Cake
By: remember_nomore
Chapter: 3 of ?
Pairing: Spike/Tara/Lindsey - eventually
Word Count: 2318
Beta: strangecreature *MWAH*
Authors Note: I know some of you have asked and well...here it is. Lindsey only. :). He's not in Sunnydale...yet, but this will give you an idea on what's up.

“…let 'em come try to stop me. It'll be fun.”

That was three months ago; he hasn’t seen the fun side yet.

He growled low in his throat, his teeth clenched together, dragging his throbbing leg up the stairs to his third floor apartment. Of all the times for the elevator to be broken…

Lindsey hissed as his knee bent out of habit, the blood seeping past the shirt he tied around the pulsing wound on his thigh. “Fuck,” he grit out, his eyes burning from the pain. He fumbled in his pocket for his keys, gripping onto them hard as he slipped it into the lock. Pushing the door open he slammed it hard behind him, leaning against the door and feeling his uninjured leg finally give out, landing him on the floor instantly.

Blood started to pool around him, soaking into his jeans and seeping into the cracks of the tile, running into the grout and making ribbons all around him.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, biting his lip hard enough to break skin as he forced himself to his feet, using his good leg for support and gripping onto the edge of the table by the door. With a slow and painful effort, Lindsey made his way into the bathroom, sinking down hard onto the closed toilet seat.

He toed his shoe off with his good foot and struggled to pull his blood soaked sock off. It landed against the edge of the wall with a muted splatter. His hands blindly reached over on the counter for the surgical scissors he’d gotten during one of the numerous times he landed in the hospital since he left LA.

With slow and deep breaths, Lindsey started to slowly cut away yet another pair of jeans just below his wound, taking care not to cut the makeshift tourniquet he’d made from his shirt. Swearing again through gritted teeth, Lindsey leaned over and turned on the water in the tub, putting it on as hot as he could take before closing his eyes to take a deep breath.

He held one end of his shirt and started to cut away at the material, the blood from his wound dripping onto the floor faster as the bandage was cut away. Lindsey’s head spun from the blood loss and he could hear the blood hit the floor even louder than the water in the tub.

“Have to give them points for… fucking hell… persistence,” he gritted out through clenched teeth as he saw the full damage the Voynok Demon had given him. He should have known to get the hell out of there when he saw it. Lindsey knew they had nine lives to go along with those sharp spines. His time at Wolfram & Hart should have taught him that much… but apparently he never seemed to listen to the lessons he learned.

With painfully slow movements he grabbed the bottle of peroxide and moved himself closer to the tub, moving his leg over the edge and hissing as his foot burned from the unavoidable heat. He reached over and took a cup from the edge and started to slowly pour the water over the wound, wincing as part of his skin waved against the stream of near scalding water.

Lindsey cleaned the wound for nearly a half an hour, the water in the tub turning a gross shade of pink, bits of his torn jeans and blood floating in the water. He just shook his head when he saw the tip of the Voynok claw fall to the bottom of the water.

Gripping his thigh tightly he poured the peroxide over the wound. “Fuck!” His eyes rolled back along with his head from the pain. Squeezing his eyes closed tightly, he hissed and started counting to ten before looking back down and pouring another wave of the liquid over his flesh.

With his jaw clenched he reached over for the small kit he kept on top of the toilet tank and with movements he knows all to well by now, Lindsey starts to stitch himself up. Slow and deliberate stitching, using his other hand to shakily pour more peroxide onto the wound. The last thing he needed was an infection on top of the firm hunting him like some rabid animal.

He knew taking a stand and sticking to it this time would have some serious repercussions. He’d worked for the firm for years and knew more inner workings than anyone living.

Lindsey felt that he had to stop, swallowing hard and taking slow breaths as the wound throbbed with the pounding of his heart, his mind going back to the past year, images of everything that happened flashing in his mind. Holland, Angel, Darla, Lilah, Angel, Darla, Drusilla, Angel refusing to help Darla, Angel fucking Darla, Holland’s constant lies…

None of it was new to him. He just couldn’t help but wonder why he put up with so much for so long. Hindsight is twenty-twenty but he knew that the second Darla woke he could have gotten someone to shove a soul into her and he could have drug her away from L.A… away from him.

Angel, Angel, Angel…

It all came down to Angel. Everything was that self-righteous vampire’s fault, thinking he was better than everyone and doing his best to knock Lindsey down a peg – or five – at every turn. Cutting off his hand without a second thought; undermining him and making him realize that everything he had been doing was for all the wrong reasons.

Before Angel came blowing through L.A. Lindsey could live in his blissful ignorance, he could ignore his conscience long enough to get the task done. It’s kind of hard to do that when it’s shoved in your face at every turn, every mistake a painful reminder of what was wrong.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Lindsey started to finish stitching up the gash in his leg, noticing he lost count after fifteen strokes of the needle through his flesh. This one was bad, but he’d had worse, the scar along his side – just under his lungs – the winner by far. That one he needed to go to the hospital for. It was easy to lie about how he got it. He’d been lying to himself for years.

With a sigh of relief, Lindsey tied the thread up and set the needle down, leaning back against the back of the toilet as he tried to get the room to stop spinning. He knew he had to eat and he had to change. What was left of his jeans was soaked with his blood and the smell was making his stomach turn.

Clenching his teeth, Lindsey started the painful task of getting the remnants of his jeans off, deciding it would be easier to cut them from his waist then to try and pull them off.

They soon lay on the floor, soaking up some of the blood and pink bath water from the tiles. Reaching up he grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist; he tucked the tail end in and sighed heavily, the throbbing in his thigh becoming even more than before.

He reached over and picked up the gauze and tape, using now expert movements to bandage his thigh up before flexing his calf muscle inspite of the pain. He still had feeling and that was a good thing, he knew the demon missed any major nerves or veins.

“Okay, it’s not far to the kitchen,” he told himself, biting his bloody lip and using the towel rack to help lift himself up. Lindsey gripped onto everything he could on his way to the small kitchenette on the other side of the apartment. This was his third apartment since he left the firm. They always found him and he picked up the second he was healed enough to move and got the hell out of town.

The temptation to go home – back to Oklahoma – ate and tempted him, but he knew better. He couldn’t risk them tracking him down there and hurting what little bit of family he had left. That was a risk he wasn’t willing to take, he needed to find a way to hide from the firm, and he couldn’t keep running like some scared rabbit. That’s what they wanted and he was tired of doing what they wanted.

He was long overdue to do something he wanted and on his terms.

“Don’t let them make you play their game, make them play yours.” He was tired but he didn’t feel defeated, he felt free. The idea of nothing but the open road ahead of him and expensive suits behind making him feel… he felt, that’s all that mattered to him right now.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Lindsey?” Angel paused, looking Lindsey square in the eyes. “Don’t come back.” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand, a silent order and instruction never to come back to L.A.

“You can have this place. I don’t want it anymore,” he replied, a forlorn smile coming to his lips. “All that glitters isn’t gold in this town.” With a nod Lindsey hopped up in his truck and started her up.

Lola purred – if you considered the very obvious sound that the muffler needed to be replaced purring – and Lindsey patted the dash. “C’mon baby, let’s get out of this death trap.”

Shifting gears, Lindsey headed away, glancing in the rearview, he knew Angel was watching him even if he couldn’t see him in the mirror.

Leaving L.A. meant his freedom and that far surpassed any regret when it came to Angel. But it didn’t stop Lindsey from wondering what could have happened if he hadn’t taken the promotion that Holland offered him last year.

He snorted at the idea, the mental image of him and Angel working side by side for the greater good of man. They were like oil and water together, or kerosene; they were too much alike to make a difference, they were too different to work together. It would have never worked and more harm than good would have come out of the union.

Lindsey would have never lost his hand, he would have never aided in the project to bring Darla back…

That was one thing Lindsey regretted in the same breath as he didn’t. He hated what the firm put Darla through, that they only brought her back with the pure intention of having Angel turn her. She was reborn only to die and that was a thought he couldn’t stomach. He was glad he was at the firm, in spite of all of the things he did after he chose to stay, because he was able to be there for Darla, take her in as much as she would let him and do whatever he could for her…

He never expected for things to happen how they did – any of it – he wasn’t prepared, although he always prided himself on being prepared. He wasn’t prepared for her manipulation, the firm’s intentions or his feelings…

Nobody plans for the life he had, and that’s why things were going to change. On his terms.

Lindsey finally made his way into the kitchen, hitting the light switch hard with his blood crusted hand, blinking as the harsh light just made his vision spin even more. He made his way over to the refrigerator, sitting down in the chair placed there and pulling the door open.

It wasn’t filled with the ‘normal’ bachelor items – beer, left over takeout – it was filled with things Lindsey knew he needed to survive. Various medical supplies lined the shelves, everything he would need to build his system back up and treat almost any wound to keep him from going in the hospital. There were a few stray bottles of beer left; but they were the last thing he needed right now.

This was almost a routine for him at this point. It was a different apartment every time but it was the same agony from a fight when he was found, always a narrow escape before it was too late. It was almost like he was supposed to be tortured, tormented and bruised hard and long enough for him to go back to the firm like he was positive the Senior Partners wanted.

Every time he got to a new place, he unpacked his truck and set up the apartment for a fight, weapons hidden in various places – there was one taped to the underside of a lampshade and another was even attached with a magnet to the fridge – he was always ready. He had to be. Ever since he stole those files when he helped Angel, Lindsey knew he had to be ready for anything at any moment.

He’d grown accustom to the paranoia… it was the only thing he’d been able to count on since he left L.A.

Lindsey’s vision spun even as he pulled out one of the already filled needles and jabbed it into his good thigh, filling his veins with a mixture of painkillers and antibiotics that would kick his immune system into gear.

He leaned his head on the counter and pulled out a high energy drink and proceeded to drink it slowly, knowing the sugar was rising in his system just enough to clear his vision so he could get to work.

Groaning, he stood and headed to the table with his books and laptop. Taking a deep breath he sat down and did his best to stop the shaking of his hands as he turned on the laptop, knowing somewhere in his mind that he had to have some sort of answers in these stolen files.

He knew more than anyone at Wolfram and Hart, he just needed to find out exactly where to look…


Posted by: coffee lovin' (willa_writes)
Posted at: April 17th, 2006 09:13 pm (UTC)

Goosebumps. I love the recent rise in Lindsey/Kane fic I've been seeing lately, and this is one of the best yet. You write with such an eye for the little details.

Posted by: The evilest evil that ever did evil (remember_nomore)
Posted at: April 17th, 2006 09:19 pm (UTC)
Lindsey - Revealed

Aww, thank you honey. Cat says I'm her expert with Lindsey in our little operation. I've always been one to keep attention to detail and I love making it that you can see the writing in your mind.

I love that there's been this explosion of Lindsey and Kane fic lately, he was a character that had such a tightknit/small decitated fanbase when the show aired and it's great to see new people at every turn.

Posted by: denied_heaven (denied_heaven)
Posted at: April 18th, 2006 04:47 am (UTC)
linds lunacy

*cuddles him hard*
oh poor baby!
can't wait to see what happens when the three of them meet and clash

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