"New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pain, disgrace
The young boy learns their rule"
-The Unforgiven, Metallica
"So, where's Buffy? Isn't this slaying thing her deal?"
Cordelia Chase walked through the cemetery alongside Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris, clutching a small cross at her side. Her long, well-manicured nails tapped against the wood, creating an annoying tip-tap-tip as they went deeper into cemetery. She was rather scantily clad for such a cold night, but seemed to not notice the brisk breeze that blew through the neighboring willow trees. What she did notice, though, was that she was doing somebody else's job, and that pissed her off. Next to her, Xander rolled his eyes. "Because she's sick. She's at home, in bed, not with us." He tossed a look at Willow, who smiled back. "Why don't you do that, Cordelia?"
"Get sick?" Cordelia said, her face and voice registering total shock. "Ew! Do you know how'd gross I'd look?" Her mouth snapped shut as she contemplated what it would be like to catch the flu.
Xander and Willow looked at each other again and shared a silent laugh. "Have you guys noticed, though," Willow said, attempting some conversation, "that there aren't that many vampires out? I mean, that's weird, right? Because we're on the Hellmouth and everything."
"What, do you think something's up?" Xander reached inside his jacket to touch his hidden stash of stakes for comfort. He, Willow, and Cordelia might not be Slayers, but everybody knew the basic strategy-find, aim, plunge, party. Yeah, he'd killed some vampires in his time.
"I don't know," Willow said, shrugging off the sudden eerie feeling she'd had. "I mean, there should be more of them."
"They were reluctant at first, I must admit," said a voice from behind, "but I finally convinced them to stay home. I'm so selfish. I wanted the fun all for myself!"
The three Slayerette's whirled around in surprise at the sound of the voice. Stake and crosses held high, they opened their eyes wide enough to see who it was.
Angel.
Willow's blood ran hot through her veins. Here, in front of her, stood the demon that had killed Jenny Calendar, her role model and good friend, and in result, had dragged Giles through emotional hell.
Xander's eyes narrowed in hate. He had never liked Angel when he had a soul, but that had been for a trivial reason-his judgement had been clouded by his puppy love towards Buffy. But he had known then and now that eventually a relationship between and Slayer and a vampire couldn't last, though he hadn't known back then that it would end up like this.
Cordelia's eyes widened in terror. This was dangerous! She could get killed! I mean, he'd already taken out Ms. Calendar: who knew who'd end up dead next? But besides the gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach, Cordelia had to notice that Angel looked really hot in those leather pants.
"So, are you three going to do anything, or should I just eat?" Angel snickered. Then, without warning, he pounced on top of the nearest Slayerette-Willow.
Willow was knocked to the ground as the large weight of the vampire fell on top of her. Angel grabbed her arms and held them behind her head, leaving her helpless and pinned to the ground. Willow looked up into his blazing yellow eyes and was struck with enormous fear. Xander, Cordelia, help me . . .
"Willow!" Although those hypnotizing yellow eyes were filling her mind, she could still hear Xander's shrill cry. And then the world spun as Angel held her close and they rolled along the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she could spot the blur of a fast-moving stake piercing the ground.
Xander tried to pull out the stake and, realizing that it had gone too deep, reached into his jacket for his back-ups. He looked up to see Cordelia, horrified, looking on at the Jenga pile that was Angel and Willow. "Well, help her, dammit!" he screamed at her, knocking her out of her reverie. Cordelia ran as fast as she could towards the two.
Angel had a good grip on Willow's neck, holding it tightly between his thick hands. "I'll snap you like a twig," he hissed, smiling hideously and exposing all his pointy little teeth, his large, blood-sucking fangs the most prominent. "Just like that teacher of yours."
At the moment, Willow didn't care if he snapped her neck, because he was presently choking her and she was running out of air. She beat uselessly at the sleeves of his duster, a primal urge inside her screaming for her to live. The world was beginning to spin, this time only in her eyes. "Xander . . ." she managed to croak out.
Angel opened his mouth to ask for her final words when something hit him on the back of the head-hard, drawing blood. He winced and let go of Willow, rolling away. Willow looked up and saw a very frightened Cordelia holding the blunt end of her cross, staring at it in horror, and then staring at Angel, who was rubbing his head and swearing loudly.
Willow scrambled to her feet and tugged on Cordelia's sleeve. "C'mon Cordelia, let's get out of here." She turned around to run, but ran smack into someone. She looked up, and saw it was Xander, with a determined look on his face.
"Xander! We have to get out of here now before he gets up again!" Willow looked back at Angel, who was slowly rising to his feet. "Xander! What are you waiting for!"
"Yeah!" Cordelia demanded. "I agree with Willow. We can get killed here!"
Xander set his jaw firmly. He pushed Willow gently out of his way. "Go on, run and get Giles or Buffy or something. I'm gonna stay here-I gotta get something off my mind."
"Xander, don't be crazy!" But Xander had already marched off to a waiting Angel, who had donned a big, happy smile. Cordelia just grabbed Willow's sleeve and they ran behind a tall pair of bushes, hidden from view.
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"So what have you got against li'l ol' me, anyway?" Angel asked as Xander walked towards him, stakes in hand and such an expression on his face that made Angel want to break out laughing. "Upset about Buffy? Jealous that I got there first? Man, you just gotta deal with your issues-"
Angel was cut off as Xander slugged him-hard-in the face. Angel growled in pain and took a few steps backward, looking at Xander with a face gaining a slight respect.
"Wow, guess all you need to make a runt a hero is a little motivation," Angel laughed, his eyes sparkling. And then, in a blur, Xander was pinned to a headstone, Angel standing triumphantly above him.
"But you need a lot more than that to beat me, my friend."
Angel snarled and immediately morphed into his game face. A thousand ways that Angel could kill him ran through Xander's mind in an instant. Along with that came treasured memories of friends, families, and times that he would like to remember forever.
And then Angel sunk his fangs into his neck.
At first it hurt tremendously, for he could feel the two sharp teeth digging under his skin, piercing the veins. Then, he felt as though everything inside his body was suddenly pulled into his neck, as Angel's hold around him tightened and the vampire quickly sucked his blood.
After only a few seconds, the cemetery surroundings blurred and ran into each other like ink in water. Everything acquired a glow-y sort of look to it, and his body began to tingle. He was left with the lightheadedness one gets when loosing large amounts of blood. But he welcomed it; Xander welcomed it all, because there was no more pain, just . . .
Then Xander felt the two fangs withdraw from his neck so keenly as though the puncture wounds were mountains lined with pain. A hand gently cradled his head, as though he were a baby, against a hard structure . . . Angel's chest. A voice, soft yet cruel, whispered in his ear, "Xander, you're dead. I've killed you: you're dead. Unless . . ." Angel chuckled, and the sound was like a train roaring in his ears. "Do you want to join us, Xander? The national polls taken just last year show us to be the fastest-growing community in the United States . . ."
Xander heard no more. At that moment, he was incapable of making such a large decision. The only thing that was running through is mind was the animal instinct to survive, to not give in to death, to continue living . . . and at that moment the only way to do that was to drink from the wrist Angel was offering him: the wrist that dripped with the sweet blood that would give him life once more.
A single, delicious drop of vampire blood fell on Xander's eager tongue, and he sucked it down hungrily. At once, a fire spread through his mouth, spreading through his body, from his head down to the very tips of his toes. Strength surged through him once more, just from a single drop of blood.
"That was just a taste," Angel whispered, and then shoved his wrist into Xander's mouth. Xander latched onto it hungrily, starting to suck furiously like a baby.
Then the wrist was gone, along with his lifeline, and Xander was thrown to the ground. A face hovered before him, and an angry, incessant voice was yelling at him.
"How dare you! Stupid! What were you thinking!"
Nothing, really, because his brain felt like it had met a brick wall-twice. Xander's head lolled to the side, and he stared at the face in front of him with a blank expression. He tried to make his lips move, but his nerves were dead. Instead, he fell into unconsciousness, away from the pain.