Author: Lara
Rating: PG
Email: LatinaGrrl2000@yahoo.com
Content: It's angsty. You've been warned.
Summary: A post-Rain of Fire fic.
Spoilers: Rain of Fire
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss
Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is
made.
Notes: Parts in // are flashbacks. Parts in * are italics.
Distribution: Just ask.
Feedback: Hell yeah!
The Champion was furious.
The Fighter for Good was stunned.
The Souled Vampire was shaking.
The Scourge of Europe was crying like a baby.
His black boots hit the cement heavily as he rushed down the dark
street, which was nearly empty. He ignored the smothering smoke
billowing off cars and cement. He ignored the car alarms going off,
their loud screams and yells echoing through the almost vacant
street. He ignored the hydrant on the corner, spraying water straight
into the sky. The water added to the intense red and black in the
sky, giving it an almost artistic beauty.
//I wish we could—more than anything—but I can't.//
The tears ran down his face. Tears he couldn't stop. They started
sometime after he had climbed off the roof. They burned his eyes and
stained his cold face. The tears distorted his vision greatly, and
maybe it was for the better.
He felt like poking his own eyes out.
Angel couldn't speak. The cavernous hole in his neck ached terribly.
The pain had nearly blinded him earlier. He wasn't able to move or
react. A stake rammed into one's skin would definitely leave some
sort of painful reminder.
So would other things.
His own son. His future. Together. He was on top of her.
Moving.
Feeling.
Pleasure.
She did nothing but lay there.
He hated them just thinking about it.
//Knowing's different than living it.//
Dried blood caked his chin and neck. The smell of copper filled his
nose and ran through his body. So did bile. He felt himself bump into
a random, faceless individual. He ignored them.
He tripped. Tripped over a small crack in the ground. He silently
cursed, lifting his head up after walking blocks staring at the
ground.
He was staring at the hotel. He had walked the entire way without
even thinking about it. A few minutes of muddled debate followed. He
could walk in with the hope that everyone was okay and alive. Or he
could remember that in the end- everything he loves turns to ashes.
They wither and die. He needed to see.
Up the path. Hand on the door. Open. Walk in. The same routine over
and over.
"Oh my God- Angel!"
Angel searched for the voice. There was Gunn on the couch, holding an
ice pack against his bruised head lightly. Fred stiffly seated across
from him, not touching. Lorne was seated on the stairs, anxiously
sipping a Seabreeze. And Wesley. The voice.
Angel opened his mouth to speak, and a rasp came out. It hurt just to
try. The man rushed forward and stopped just a foot from him. He
lifted his hands towards the vampire then hesitated, as if uncertain
of what to do. Finally, he touched his arm. "We were worried." He
said simply.
The girl stood, walking towards the two men. "You were gone for a few
hours." She said quietly. "We were getting ready to look for you.
When the fire stopped." Her eyes drifted to the window, staring at
the red and black stained sky. No more fire. "We were going to go
now."
The Watcher touched Angel's face lightly, literally wincing at the
sight of his wound. "My God, Angel...how did you..."
Fred peered up at him, inspecting his face. Not his face. His eyes.
He looked into hers, motionless. The Fred he knew was dead. Withered
and died. She wasn't the same. Her eyes were hardened. Dark. Just
like Cordelia's. Just like Connor's. And Wesley. Gunn. They were all
dead.
"A-Angel, were you crying?"
//I felt it. Not just their fear and pain.//
He shook his head and walked past the two, straight into the office.
He moved in, and the door was shut behind him.
Wesley turned to Fred, sighing deeply. "We should get in touch with
Cordelia."
"She doesn't have her cell phone." Gunn spoke up curtly, painfully
sitting up. "She didn't take it with her when she ditched us."
"Charles." Fred replied tersely. The two stared at each other before
she looked away.
Lorne cleared his throat, standing. "Now, I don't want to be a
Negative Nancy, but shouldn't we look for Cordelia and the little
nipper? They could be anywhere."
The door slammed open. Cordelia rushed in, flushed. She glanced
around at everyone, her body lingering on the stairs. Connor appeared
behind her, looking over her shoulder. She moved forward almost
immediately.
"Cordelia." Wesley muttered.
Her gaze rested on the Watcher. The two looked at each other
wordlessly. The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the silent
lobby.
Finally, Cordelia gave him a short smile. "Hi."
He smiled slightly. "Hi. We were worried."
Her hand rose and laid his arm. Concern slowly filled her eyes as she
examined his slightly battered face. "You're hurt."
He brushed her hand away. "I'm alright. We're all alright- in theory.
It's Angel we're-"
"Angel. Why Angel. What happened, Wes?"
"He got a stake jammed into his throat, that's what happened." Gunn
snapped. Cordelia stared at him almost fearfully. "Boy got stabbed
and thrown over a roof. That happened like three hours ago."
She shook her head slowly, already expecting the worse. "Is he..."
"He's fine." Fred mumbled.
"Where is he?" Connor silently stepped into the hotel, moving next to
the Seer. She barely glanced at him, shifting to the side. "*Where*
is he?" Lorne pointed at the closed office door. She nodded and
walked towards the door.
Connor stared at the ground, playing with his shirt. Gunn focused on
the boy, watching him wearily. "Where the hell were you, boy?"
His head jerked up. "With Cordy."
"Doing?"
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Gunn shrugged. "Gee, I don't know, Connor. What with the hellfire and
burning, I woulda thought you would've been standing by your old man
fighting the big fight."
"I was hurt."
"Sure you were."
"What the hell do you know?!"
"*ENOUGH*." Cordelia snapped loudly, silencing the two. Her glare
softened as she turned the doorknob and opened the office door. She
walked inside the room, closing the door behind her. The room was
black. She held her hands out in front of her, slowly and cautiously
walking toward the light switch. Or where she thought was the light
switch. Suddenly, a small light filled the room. She jumped and
turned towards it. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, seeing the
familiar frame seated at the desk. "Angel..."
He kept his back to her, standing. "What do you want." He voice was
raspy. It hurt. It hurt so much. He imagined that's what his victims
might have sounded if he had let them lived. A gaping hole in their
throats, trying to speak. Struggling to keep the blood from rising
and falling.
The reassured smile faded, replaced by a confused look. "What? I-I
heard you were hurt..."
He turned around, and she gasped at the sight. His face remained
blank. "I am fine, Cordelia." His throat burned.
"But- my God, Angel...your neck! Your- you're hurt. Oh my God..." She
walked towards him, and he backed up. "Let me patch you up. At least."
At least. He had to smirk at that. At least. There had to be a double
meaning to that somewhere. Maybe not. He hated thinking like that
about her. He couldn't stop. He couldn't stop the pain. The hurt.
//I felt you and how much you enjoyed making them suffer.//
She was making him suffer now.
Just by looking at him with concern.
Fear.
She had changed so much in so little time. That light in her eyes
that he had looked forward to every single day was gone. She was so
different. The way she moved. The way she talked.
But her voice still did something to him. Before, it was dizziness
and elevated happiness to the highest level.
Now it was nausea and pain.
"Let me patch you up." He shook his head, trying to walk past her.
Without touching her. He could smell him on her. She grabbed his
arm. "Angel-"
Angel jerked his arm away roughly, nearly sending Cordelia into the
desk. "I am *FINE*." That shout was going to cost him. The pain hit
hard.
She stared up at him in shock, pushing her hair out of her
eyes. "What's wrong?"
He remembered everything at that moment. Connor calling her
beautiful. Cordelia holding his hand. Connor taking her photos of the
group and leaving his behind.
She stole the covers.
He was so stupid.
And he could kill them both.
"Angel- Connor and I were worried."
Connor. He fought the urge to shove Cordelia across the room, rush
into the lobby, and smash his fist into that boy's face.
She sighed, trying again. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Their eyes met. "Nothing."
Cordelia frowned. "A-Angel, I just..." She stopped, her face suddenly
growing pale. She looked into his eyes and saw the hurt. The pain.
The red. He had been crying. And she knew. She knew he knew. "Oh my
God..."
"God can't help me."
Her eyes began to well up with tears. "Angel..."
He sighed, closing his eyes to hide the pain. "Don't."
//I love you, Angel...//
"Angel..."
"I love you, Cordelia..."
//But I can't be with you.//
She nodded, tears slowly running down her face. The guilt was
overwhelming. She hated herself. But she would never have thought he
would find out. She told Connor... "Angel- I'm so-"
"I want you and my son to leave this hotel. Right now."
//It's just too soon.//
"W-What?" Surprise began to mix with the guilt and fear. It all
molded into an expression that Angel could only think of as
pitiful. "Angel...please- I want to help. We want to help. You can't
do it on your own."
Angel shook his head, trying to muster up all the strength he
could. "I can do it on my own. I don't need you."
Lies.
Cordelia wiped her face roughly, trying to stop the tears. They kept
coming. "God- Angel...please, don't- I- I want-"
"Get. *Out*."
A sob escaped her lips, and she wiped her face desperately. He stood,
watching her. Watching her try to put herself together. Like she
always did. He was giving her time.
She started to back towards the door. "I-If you change your mind, y-
you know where I-"
"I won't."
She nodded, still backing away. Slowly. She was taking her time.
Trying to stall. She could. He was stalling as well. He wanted her
there badly. But she couldn't. He would kill her first.
"I love you, Angel." She whispered. "I always will."
"I know that." He whispered back.
She nodded once last time, glancing into his eyes before escaping the
office. She kept her head down, walking past the others and out the
door. Connor, without hesitation, followed her.
Angel finally collapsed into the nearest chair. Wesley and Fred
looked into the office at him, that familiar concern etched on their
faces.
Everything he loved turned into ashes.
Cordelia.
She was gone.
The vampire closed his eyes slowly, a trembling sigh escaping his
lips. It hurt. But not as bad as what was going on in his heart.
//Maybe if we just give it a little time...//
The pain will fade.
FIN