Here we were. We. Funny how at that moment I felt like I was alone again, facing off against this thing that was supposed to be my husband but was actually my father. Wondered what my prison shrink would say about that one? Not that it mattered. My life was so clearly not like other people.
The more he brought up my daughter, the more I remembered what it felt like when he tried to stab her in the heart with a pen. Panic, and an overwhelming sense of failure because I couldn't stop him. But with that memory, I also remembered that he just couldn't do it. She'd done something to him, and I vaguely wondered if Morrigan managed to crawl into his brain the way she crawled into mine. She might be the only thing that could still get at Wesley, wherever he was buried deep inside.
I was unsure about what to do. After all these years I still wanted to turn to B or Angel to play the part of big strapping hero. Funny how just bein' back in L.A. brings back the sulky defensive slayer that I used to be. Wasn't that what I'd been afraid of when the two of us had left England to come back here. All because of a stupid note. A stupid note that gave Wolfram and Hart access to my family.
In that one second of anger I remembered something. The feeling of a trigger as I squeezed it with my finger, brains splattered no the pristine walls behind. Clenching my jaw, in one quick move I dropped my crossbow to the ground and grabbed the tranquilizer gun Angel was holding onto out of his hands. Raising the weapon up I aimed it at Wesley's chest and squeezed the trigger. Enough playing around. Enough toying with me. I was fucking pissed off and ready to fight back.