Never Fade Awa

My HP fic, The Boggart, is on hiatus until I find inspiration (yeah, right), and a long one-shot I was planning on writing about Spike is going to take a while to come up. A long while. (If my italics don't show up again someone will suffer. Probably me.)

But I'm sort of suffering an overload of problems. I made it through the school year but I've still got work to do and I'm trying to keep writing and I'm distracted and that keeps me from writing because I don't have free time and right now I'm writing in run on sentences which really can't be good.

Excuses, excuses. I know they count for nothing.

Disclaimer: looks out window Nope. No pigs flying. Guess I don't own anything, then.

Summary: Set after Not Fade Away. Stories of death, dying, and final battles.

Sorry the first chapter is in present tense. The next few probably won't. No promises, though.

A/N: Funny thing is, I'm going to miss Lindsey the most. Good-bye. RIP.

But I'll save his story for later. Right now, let's start off with a hero- because every good story begins with a hero.

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Chapter 1: Angel- Destiny Forfeited

It's what he's been fighting for this whole time. Ever since Wesley dug up that prophecy and discovered that 'shanshu' meant 'to live' as well as 'to die.' It was a purpose. It was a goal.

And now he stares down at the contract before him and knows he's going to give it up. He can feel everyone's eyes on him, the eyes of demons and evil creatures- the creatures he's been fighting against this whole time. This is a test. The contract, his signature, is a test, to see if he's willing to devote himself to the Circle, or if he'll back away and become a liability.

Somewhere down the table, he can hear Vail's raspy breath, hear someone else shift slightly in their chair. They all watch him closely, carefully judging, waiting.

He tries to force a smile, but it doesn't quite make it onto his face. He glances down at the pen, covered in his blood. It only takes a second for a jumble of thoughts to cross his mind, each fleeting and desperately searching for alternatives. Alternatives, however, are the one thing he can't find. He can't fight the Black Thorn himself and escape with his unlife.

His soul is screaming, but on the outside his demeanor is as calm as he can make it be. A sinking feeling has settled itself into the pit of his stomach and doesn't seem willing to alleviate. It doesn't matter. He's been dead a long time now, but this time it's forever.

He's going to give up his destiny, for the lives of the innocents. Because they're the ones he's been fighting for this whole time.

His hand moves, as if in a dream.

And he signs.

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Until next chapter, what do you think?