Fear 
by TJ

Angel POV.
============

It's Wesley's fault.

He told me off, scolded, berated, whinged, whined, strongly
reminded me. It doesn't matter how he said it, all that matters
is that it's his fault that I'm like this now.

It was such a stupid small thing as well that set the ball
rolling. Nothing much really. Just a small cut. I didn't
think much of it at the time. Yeah, it stung like mad at first
and everyone including Cordelia had a wonderful time
mimicking me as I jumped around the office like madman, my
finger stuck in my mouth while I struggled to hold in the roar
of pain that was intent on emerging.

I had accidentally sliced my finger open on the edge of a
cardboard box. Didn't notice it right away. I mean, I *did* feel
it but the pain took a few seconds to hit me.

It hurt.

It hurt a damn lot and after spending a few hundred years in
Hell, that's saying something.

At first it was like... 'Ooohhh. That hurt!' followed by
'Fuuuuck! That fucking well bloody fucking hurt!' at which time
I stuck my finger in my mouth in a vain attempt to halt the
sharp stinging that was radiating from my little finger. The
dull throb that came later was almost as hard to put up with.

After a few hours, it didn't hurt as much so I pushed my recent
workplace injury to the back of my mind. More important things
to worry about anyway, like which gym was the best for a newly
restored human, what offers did they have, which had the best
facilities for the smallest monthly fee possible. Yeah, I made
it. Won what I thought, at that time, was the toughest battle
of my entire existence. I've got my reward and a whole new
world has opened up to me.

It wasn't until a few day's later that I thought about my finger
again. I was down at one of the gyms on my shortlist, sampling
a free weights and exercise session before making up my mind
about which one to join. Everything had been going well. I had
managed not to make too much of an idiot out of myself by
staring at my reflection in the full wall mirrors when I knocked
my hand against one of the treadmills.

Yet again it was only a small thing but it felt like I had just
been kneecapped with a baseball bat, I swear my knees buckled.
The pain flew from the tip of my little finger, up my forearm
and came to a swirling halt around my elbow. There was so much
pain and it wasn't until I looked at my injured hand that I
realised why.

My whole little finger was bright red and slightly swollen. On
a closer inspection, I found that my cardboard cut wasn't
healing like it should have been. It was so stupid. Just a
small thing like that has brought me to where I am today. It
was obviously infected and there was only one thing to do.

Ask Wesley as to which doctor he went to.

As soon as I got back to the Hyperion, I asked him and that was
when the trouble started. *Wesley strutted around the office,
full of authority and lectures. On and on he went about how I
had to be more careful now that I was human again. I could no
longer rely on my vampire healing to take care of me.

He did the glasses cleaning routine that Giles is so fond of. I
had to laugh at that and I did until he said something that
stopped me dead.

Germs.

Humans are nothing more than walking colonies of germs,
infections, diseases and bacteria. There are millions of
viruses being transmitted from person to person each day... each
hour... each minute. People got sick every second and some
never got better. As Wesley was speaking, I couldn't help but
feel a little nauseous as I realised that right that very
instant, there was a person in the process of dying from a
simple germ.

A germ or an infection that they had more than likely picked up
from something as innocent as a dirty dish... a pet... a
borrowed item. Something that you could get just by shaking
hands with a friend. It was something that I hadn't had to
worry about in almost 260 years. While I was a vampire, nothing
short of a stake, fire or beheading could seriously incapacitate
me.

Even before I had been turned, I hadn't even known what
bacteria,
staphylococcus infections or AIDS were. Who had even heard of
those things back then? Up until six months ago none of this
was relevant for me.

It is now though.

I'm scared to go outside in case someone sneezes near me. They
could have the 'flu and I could catch it and I'd be sick. I
could go to the doctor and they could prescribe antibiotics for
it but what if I'm allergic to the antibiotics? I could get
sick from them as well. If I don't go to the doctor, I could go
to the drugstore instead and get some cold and flu tablets to
treat the symptoms but what if I catch something else from
another person while I'm waiting to be served? Some of the
ingredients in those cold and flu preparations can increase the
risk of a heart attack, I know logically that its unlikely that
I'd have one, but what if I did?

How do I know that the doctor is clean? *If waiting room chairs
are crawling with millions of germs and bacteria, all of which I
can't see? What if I pick up a magazine that someone infected
with German Measles has handled? What if they had coughed over
it, then I picked it up and had touched the area they had
coughed on and then wiped my mouth? I don't think you can catch
something like that so easily but there's always a first time
for everything.

Every time I close my eyes at night, I shudder to think of how
many bugs are crawling over me as I try to sleep. An earwig
might take a liking to my ear one night and burrow down deep
inside of it until I would be forced to visit the hospital in
order for it to be removed... it's something that has me almost
vomiting at times. Not the earwig but a trip to the hospital.
All those people filled with disease and infection. Illnesses
passed around like candies. Even a fresh pair of surgical
gloves doesn't guarantee the doctor has washed his hands before
treating you.

God, I don't like being this way. I don't like that fact that I
step back when someone tries to give me one of the air kisses,
you know, a kiss that barely touches your cheek. Its bad enough
that they get close enough to breathe on my face.

I'd like to whole-heartedly do the two-hand handshake one day
but that means I'd have to wash my hands again. Keep washing
them up to the elbows. Then I'd have to turn the tap off and
that would mean that I would have to turn it back on again to
wash the germs from my hands that I got when I turned it off.
Which means I would have to eventually turn the tap off
again...but my hands would be dirty again. My hands hurt enough
as it is. They're almost red raw from the constant scrubbing,
and no matter which soap I use they all irritate my skin.
Ordinary soap, moisturising skin wash, anti-bacterial kitchen
wipes...I've used them all. A few times, I've even poured
straight bleach over my hands but nothing is making me feel
clean.

It's horrible..... It's a vicious cycle that never seems to end.


These tiny little things could kill me one day and I don't want
to die just yet.bI've only just become human again. I can't
understand how Cordelia, Gunn and even Wesley just take such
things in their stride. How can they not be worried about these
microscopic demons? They tell me not to be so silly and to
worry
about wiping the desk later, tell me that it doesn't need to be
done each time I come into the office and each time I leave it
for just a moment. It does though. I know it does. I've
started to close the office door so that they can't see me do
it.

They make jokes about how much I clean now. Cordelia keeps
saying that she would pay me to clean her apartment. I just
smile along with it, try to hide how much the very thought of
visiting another person's house makes my skin crawl. God only
knows how dirty it would be? The idea of joining them all at a
restaurant makes me wretch. I just can't begin to imagine the
filth that would be floating around in the kitchen. The food
could be crawling with salmonella, hair, skin flakes, insects
and dirt. It's just too disgusting to contemplate. I can't eat
takeout or things that other people have cooked. I just don't
know how safe it is. At least if I do it, I know that I've been
as clean as possible.

I didn't think that being a human again would be like this.

Full of fear.

I don't think that a mortal life is all that it's cracked up to
be and to be honest, I'm not really liking it. I thought that I
would be able to have sex at least without the risk of losing my
soul but even that is scaring the shit out of me. When I was a
human the first time, we only had a few things to worry about
catching. Syphilis, The Clap, scabies, lice. Now there is that
whole AIDS thing. Yeah, they could tell me that they were clean
but would it be true? I know that there is a whole trust issue
there but my health just isn't worth taking the risk.

Is this really my long sought after reward? To live in fear my
every single waking moment?

I don't think that I can handle this much longer, the constant
checking that everything is clean and sanitary. Making sure
that people don't touch anything of mine because if they do, it
only means that I have to clean it... again.

This new obssession of mine, it's not my fault.

It's Wesley's.


The end.