Doyle decided he needs a demon hunter to help him. Meeting Paul is a dangerous choice. I do not want a client to be killed by a demon chasing me, Doyle thought as he took a door into a room The other demons were oblivious to his presence at the bombed scene and quickly took out bodies that survived the explosion from the bar. Doyle heard there were survivors.
So to make sure they found Dean’ body; Doyle took a visit to the Autopsy (in demon form) room.
“Started with wine and nearly got blasted in ta pieces by wine,” Doyle thought aloud. He shudders at what could have happened without the wine’s intervention between him and Dean. Dean does not know when to give up, Doyle recalls as he looks under a body sheet. “Gross.”
Doyle puts the sheet back over the body.
“Not him.” Doyle wanted to check if Dean was among these bodies. He knew one physical feature that stood out from Dean more than his cold, hardened eyes: A bronze, rocky forehead. That bronze plate has the eye symbol at the center with a white diamond in the middle.
Doyle lifts another white sheet off a demon corpse.
“You won’t find him here.”
Doyle drops the sheet, and turns around, half-scared.
“Oh.” Doyle takes deep breaths, seeing who startled him. “It’s just ya; the medical Examiner Demon.”
The Medical Demon comes forward from a door out the darkness.
“If you were looking for a demon hunter in here, which is completely obvious,” The Medical Examiner bluntly points out. Doyle could tell by The Medical Examiner Demon’s voice that he grew up somewhere in Britain. “Then you are completely mistaken. Those are Biker Demons on the tables.”
The Medical Demon takes off plastic-surgeon gloves. He throws away the bloody surgeon gloves into a trash can.
“Oh, so that’s what everyone call gang demons in this dimension.” Doyle said, with a relieved laugh. Note to self, Doyle mentally reminds himself, ask this demon his name. So many things could be rusty about this dimension for Doyle; such as terms for hunters and bike riders.
“There’s a difference between Hunters and Bikers in this Dimension,” The Medical Examiner demon said, and then he rhetorically asks; “But why bother explaining to a demon that sneaked into an Autopsy?”
“I did a favor,” Doyle is taking napkins off his shoe. Plenty where that had come from, little bit of a mess getting in the Autopsy. “For your assistant, Ralph. I am afraid ya don’t realize how difficult it is ta get a car enthusiast hooked up with a cat demon.”
This didn’t surprise the demon.
The Medical Examiner Demon grumbles, “No good son of trash,” The Medical Examiner Demon then presses on to the biggest matter. “I may not be a Psychologist, but I sense your fear for this hunter.”
Apparently this hunter Dean is not dead as a doornail, yet.
Doyle sighs, as his fear o-meter went down.
“So…who are you again?” The Medical Examiner Demon asks.
Doyle rubs the back of his spikey neck, walking back and forth.
“Doyle.” Doyle said his name. “I am… Axtius kid. He got my mom pregnant, ditched her and me after finding out I was not pure Brachen demon.”
The Medical Examiner Demon grabs a sharp medical tool.
“And don’t think about attacking me.” Doyle stopped pacing. “Mom told me his name. Don’t know him personally—nor will I ever.”
Doyle shook his head as he walks around the table.
The Medical Examiner Demon puts down the medical tool.
“I made a promise.” Doyle carried on, edging away from a burnt arm laying out the body sheet. Doyle puts his hands on an empty table. “I intend ta see this through.”
“Do you know him?” The Medical Examiner Demon is unsure whether or not Doyle could be a threat.
Doyle lifts his head up, having an eye to eye confrontation with him.
“I don’t know my father personally, but, the reason why he ditched us only makes it harder to decide meeting him.” Doyle finishes, taking both hands off the table. He saw the Medical Demon relax. “I have a little favor ta ask.”
“Go on.” The Medical Examiner demon said, believing he heard it all.
Doyle has a small laugh at how open this medical examiner is.
"Know a good demon hunter?" Doyle picks up a knife; he inspects it as though he’s seeing his teeth using it as a mirror.
"What the crap are you smoking?" The Medical Examiner Demon snarls at Doyle's question, showing his sharp fangs. "You are a demon!"
Doyle puts down the knife on a nearby table.
“I don’t smoke…but…." Doyle resumes his human form; his direction aimed towards The Medical Examiner Demon. “I drink plenty.”
The Medical Examiner Demon staggers back.
“Y—you are a…” The Medical Examiner Demon is struggling to speak. He could not believe his eyes.
Doyle rolls his eyes.
“Ya should really listen in when I say ‘Not pure Brachen Demon.’,” Doyle shook his head. Medical Examiner Demons don’t pick up specific words, Doyle thought, funny they do the autopsy’s. It didn’t make sense to him this one didn’t pay attention. “Ya have a hearing problem.”
He did not approve of Doyle’s remark.
“Half-Breeds do not belong in here.”
Doyle takes a few steps forward towards him.
“I need some help getting rid of a pesky demon.” Doyle said, cracking his knuckles. “He’s after me. If I do not come back, then ya will be visited by my vampire friend with a soul.”
The Medical Examiner Demon scratches his long chin.
“Vampires do not scare me.” The Medical Examiner Demon lies, uncovering a severely burnt body. “Nothing can.”
Doyle covers his nose.
“That smells like rotten beef.” Doyle’s voice is muffled. “I get the point.”
The Medical Examiner demon covers the body.
“Does the name Angel mean anything ta ya?” Doyle suggests, watching the Medical Examiner Demon become completely white.
The Medical Examiner Demon gulps, then he said “Fine…I’ll help; but give me a reason why.”
Doyle smiles at him, as color returned to the Medical Examiner Demon.
He explains the entire situation to The Medical Demon, stopping at the bar explosion
"So as ya know; Davis told me where ta find the door ta the genuine Los Angeles." Doyle rubs his hands together. “I have ta take Paul Demonic Quinn (A human, no surprise there) and reunite him with his son. Then I will leave ya be,” Doyle has honesty in his eyes. “I keep my word.”
The Medical Examiner Demon raises a brow.
“You must have a preference,” The Medical Examiner Demon slides the corpses into a square cabinet like doors. “Everyone has a preference what kind of Demon Hunter they want to do the job. Just give me one name to narrow it down; First name, middle name, last name or any name.”
Well, the man who called himself ‘Wesley’ had demon wizard spells, Doyle processes the likely candidate, and he can stand in the sunlight. Regardless that he did not know Wesley it seemed to be Doyle that he is the best choice. He is completely human; there wasn’t a vampire scent on him.
“Wesley.” Doyle said, standing at the side from the tables being put away.
The Medical Examiner Demon’s jaw drops.
A name that shocks a demon, Doyle thought, other than Angels. That is something new.
There is a moment of silence.
“Seriously?” The Medical Examiner Demon asks, after he regained control of speaking. his face is wild in disbelief. His dark gray, scaled face became wrinkly. The crooked horn on his forehead is curved similar to an umbrella’s handle.
“You want a human to slay a demon?” The Medical Examiner Demon then laughs. “First a vampire slayer, than a vampire who slays demons, then a half-breed who works for said vampire wants a human to slay a demon!”
The Medical Examiner Demon puts on an early version of glasses, connected by the rims, reminding Doyle of a person from his literature book. Minus the forehead, crooked horn on the Medical Examiner’s forehead.
“Who is this pesky demon?” The Medical Examiner Demon asks, closing the door behind him. “I must know why you ask me.”
“Dean Dexter,” Doyle takes out a photograph, and then he shows it to him. The Medical Examiner Demon made a perfect ‘o’ seeing it. “Ya may want ta sit down.”
The Medical Examiner Demon sat in a rolling chair.
“Long before I met Angel, I went on my own ta help people from my visions.” Doyle puts the photograph away. “He was causing problems for a family of five; I ended up using my computer skills ta slip them in ta witness protection—for free—.and not leave a trace.”
“I see a problem with this,” The Medical Examiner bursts his bubble, while tapping his long hard fingers together. “How are they still in the program…When it was only a demon terrorizing them?”
“It wasn’t a problem making it seem they had a legit reason ta be in there.” Doyle explains, in a way that portrayed they are safe for a really long time. “Their youngest daughter had witnessed Dean murder a high profiled smuggling cocaine ring leader. If ya want ta know how, that’s a long story.”
“I understand.” The Medical Examiner Demon said, with a nod.
“The humans think it was one of his enemies—the ring leader man—who were looking ta cash in from his death. Besides that, I may have changed the family’s records ta who they were dealing with.” Doyle played with his fingers, almost shyly. He looks back to The Medical Examiner Demon. “I made a bunch of …fake problems.”
The Medical Examiner is stunned.
“I didn’t drink all the time ta drown out my sorrows,” Doyle adds, shaking his head. “I drink ta celebrate, now.”
Last night, Doyle thought, getting wine was for having no visions. Good reason to celebrate!
“You had a dramatic incident…” The Medical Examiner realizes, not asking it as a question but as a fact. “That changed the reason why you drank.”
“Believe it or not,” Doyle said. “I can make enemies here….And in my dimension…With a few friends here and there.”
The Medical Examiner puts his hands together.
“So the enemy part, when did it go beyond the ‘I don’t care about you’ point?” The Medical Examiner is interested, “Was it when this dramatic incident occurred?”
“Yes.” Doyle admits, taking out some candy. He takes off the wrapping and ate it.
The Medical Examiner Demon leans back in his seat.
Doyle swallows the chocolate.
“I’ll give ya the short version; when I was drinking, Dean came inta my apartment at night…” Doyle throws the wrapper into a trash can. “We got on the wrong foot, one thing lead ta another…He was furious I had ruined his ‘fun’ with them.”
Doyle’s hands ball up into a fist.
“Dean was terrorizing those kids, I couldn’t let it continue.”
The Medical Examiner Demon rubs his chin.
“I filter out what I don’t want to hear.” The Medical Examiner Demon admits. “And that’s what your enemy here, Dean, did.”
Doyle smiles, This Demon knows what he is talking about, his hand relaxes losing its fist shape.
“And what do ya hear instead?” Doyle asks, in a manner that easily showed nothing can be left unexplained to him.
The Medical Examiner Demon has an ‘I-wouldn’t-tell-you’ expression on.
“I know a rogue demon Hunter, from outside The Watcher organization thing.” The Medical Examiner Demon waves a hand (but not in the air) slightly, back and forth like he had it on a table.
Doyle hands him Davis’ phone.
“Tell him ta meet me here…” Doyle wrote on the back of a business card.
He hands it to the Medical Examiner Demon.
“I nearly forgot ta ask,” Doyle remembers a low priority question. “What is ya name?”
The Medical Examiner Demon is surprised that Doyle bothered to ask.
“Qurden.” The Medical Examiner Demon said in a low voice.
Doyle smiles at his name.
“Is that Gordon in English?” Doyle asks.
The Medical Examiner Demon shook his head.
“Garden.” The Medical Examiner, Qurden, proudly said. “I was born in the back corner of the Victorian garden.”
_________ _________ ______________
The room, where Davis and Doyle had been inside a few hours ago, is wide open. There are bodies of Demons all over the place outside the room. There are a few bodies that look as though they tried to crawl in. Glass is all over the place. Chairs,tables, and various furniture was flipped over. The technology in this room is all but broken.
It didn’t appear to be an organized crime.
“I should leave a survivor for my bargin.” Dean walks up to half-breed demon hanging on for dear life.
Dean picks up the Half Breed.
“I want Doyle,” Dean told the Half-Breed, holding her by the neck. “Or else the kid’s dead.”
The Half-Breed Demon, Vew, is scared for her life.
“T-t-t-tell who?” Vew stutters, her entire body is shaking. Her blue-green face is stained from all the crying she had been doing when Dean slaughtered them all.
Dean’s cold, metal eyes look through Vew.
“Angel Investigations; they have two days to hand him over.” Dean drops Vew. He had the boy to get. If the Scourge wanted to interfere with Dean’s mission there wouldn’t be any survivors, nor would their demon-half breed bomb be left to be used again. “I want my target handed over to me by people he trusts.”
Demonic is cowering under Davis’s desk.
“Or else his little werewolf friend gets it.” Dean goes into the room, stepping over the dead demon corpses he had made.
Vew saw the Angel Investigations card across from her; It came from Doyle before he left. She picks up the stained card. The sign of an Angel meant something else to her not just heaven but hope. The hope that usually appears in miracles, not only for mythical legends made by humans, to save lives
Barely alive, Davis is trying to hold on for Demonic
“F-f-f-fear makes him stronger,” Davis said, trying his best to be reassuring for Demonic. Doyle would have wanted Demonic not to be scared in a safe place. Davis is keeping up his end o the bargain. “Don’t be....afraid of a little…Irish porcupine--”
Dean slices off Davis’s head with a sword, quite clean.
“Do be afraid.” Davis turns over the desk. He looks down towards Demonic. “Your hero isn’t coming anytime soon.”
The scene switches to Vew using a phone.
“Angel Investigations; we help the helpless!” Cordelia said, in a bright mood. “What do you need help with?”
Vew clears her throat.
“The dem-de-de-dem-mon Hunter Dean Dexter has killed everyone…except me.”
Cordelia lowers the phone.
“Angel, there’s a demon killer case!” Cordelia called out, then puts the phone back to her ear. For all she knew Doyle was out re-uniting a man with his son.
“It’s yo-y-your friend who needs the help.” Vew stutters. “He wants Doyle in exchange for Demonic…In two days.”