Dr Sparrow was bent over the sink, washing the blood off his medical instruments.
"Always messy when you have to open 'em up. That's why I prefer the less invasive procedures. Never got used to the sight of blood. Ugh. Still makes me nauseous," he muttered to himself.
"Then this is going to be an uncomfortable conversation." Gunn stood in front of the door, arms folded across his chest.
"I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Gunn. All the knowledge and deductive reasoning we've implanted in your brain." The doctor laughed, almost cruelly. "And it's taken you this long to sniff your way back to me?"
"I've been a little preoccupied," Gunn said defensively.
"Ah, yes, Miss Burkle. How is she?" Dr Sparrow smiled.
Gunn grabbed the doctor and pushed him violently into the patient's chair.
"You wanna get real straight with me real fast."
"Of course," Dr Sparrow replied nervously. "Customer is always right."
"Everything you know, or there won't be enough of you left to stitch back together, Frankenstein," Gunn threatened.
"The sarcophagus contains the essence of an old one, a race of ancient demons dead and buried for millions of years in a place called the Deeper Well," Dr Sparrow rushed out.
"Not hearing anything I don't already know."
"Why do you think I'm telling you?" Dr Sparrow chuckled.
Gunn pulled him up from the chair and punched him hard in the stomach.
"How do we bring Fred back? How?!"
"You can't," Dr Sparrow said, shrugging.
"I don't believe that. You know a way. You have to," Gunn almost pleaded.
"Get the sarcophagus released from customs in exchange for making your cerebral alterations permanent. That was the bargain and the extent of my involvement." Dr Sparrow smiled again.
"Then take it back. Everything you put in my head, the law, all the knowledge, take it back. Everything," Gunn's voice quivered and his eyes filled with tears. "Take more, leave me a vegetable. I don't care. Just bring her back. Please... bring her back."
There's nothing left to bring back. Miss Burkle's soul was consumed by the fires of resurrection. Everything she was is gone. Forever. For better or worse, you made a deal, Mr. Gunn. I suggest you learn to live with it - " Dr Sparrow's eyes rolled up in his head and he crumpled to the ground.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Charles?" Wesley asked, his voice menacing. "Knox was in contact with a doctor. But you already know that, don't you?"
"Yeah, one of my sources - " Gunn lied.
"Don't," Wesley said, shaking his head. "What he said... about Fred, about her soul, is it true? What did you do, Charles?"
"It was just a piece of paper. I was losing it. Everything they put in my head, everything that made me different. Special. And he could fix it. Make it permanent. So I signed a piece of paper. It was a custom's release form. I didn't think anyone would get hurt," Gunn replied softly.
"Nothing from Wolfram and Hart is ever free. You knew that," Wesley accused.
"I couldn't go back... to being just the muscle. I... I didn't think it would be one of us. I didn't think it would be Fred." Gunn looked down at the floor.
"I understand not wanting to go back, not wanting to be who we were. I understand it. And I can forgive it," Wesley told him, before pulling a gun from his pocket and placing it on the table. "But you knew what was happening to her. You knew who was responsible and you didn't say anything. You let her die."
Wesley picked up a scalpel and thrust it into Gunn's stomach.
"I'm less forgiving about that."
Gunn coughed, blood staining his lips as he looked up at Wesley, who was returning his stare with cold eyes.