Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters… it's all so sad. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own it all.
Not A Hero
Lorne glared at the bartender over his Seabreeze. He was half way to drunk, which to his way of thinking wasn't even close to where he needed to be.
"Don't judge." he said to the bartender.
The bartender said nothing.
"I'm not a hero." Lorne continued. "I've never pretended to be one. They all knew that. And Angel-cakes... well he had no business even expecting me to do..." He took a sip of his drink and stared at the bottom of the glass. "Wow, that went fast. Give me another would ya?"
The bartender mixed the drink and placed it on a fresh napkin in front of him. He began gathering empty glasses and stowing them in a plastic tub.
"Not a hero." Lorne said softly. "But then nothing heroic about what I did. Nope. I'm not talking about Lindsey, although that wasn't... Well, I've heard the man sing, I know what he's all about. What he was all about. Better than anyone. Maybe better than he did. I'm not talking about him though. That was... bad. Really, really bad. But not what I meant." Lorne took a long drink. "All I ever wanted to do was sing. Hear the music. No music in Pylea. Did you know that?"
The bartender looked at him for a moment, then started wiping down the bar.
"No music." Lorne continued. "Warrior society. All hell bent on fighting and winning and dying with honor. Who needs it? Not me, I can tell you that. I was as out of place there as... well as..." he paused, then laughed. "What do you know? Can't think of a good comparison." He held up his glass. "You make a good Seabreeze, sweetie. If Caritas still existed, you'd have a job there." Lorne sighed and put his glass down.
"Mom... be glad you'll never meet my mother by the way. Nightmares for years I can tell you. She never thought much of me, never really "got" me. Like I said, I was out of place. But I had to get mixed up with Angel and his bunch. Oh sure, Mr. Tall Dark and Broody pants walks in all flappy coat and Champion of the Powers and suddenly I'm caught up in fighting the good fight and saving the world. And for the life of me, I don't know why. Seemed... seemed so clear when I was following him and the rest of them. And hey, I followed when he had to destroy the lie of perfect peace and happiness. And I followed him through the gates of Hell, literally, when he took over Wolfram and Hart. I did my part and I did it damn good. I was as loyal a follower as I could possibly be."
Lorne stared at himself for a minute in the mirror behind the bar. "No." he said. "I wasn't following. I was part of them. Part of that team. Probably couldn't tell you when I actually became part of it, but I was. I knew what I was doing when I raised my hand. Maybe I shouldn't have... but I did."
He looked at the bartender again. "Wasn't until later that I told him that he couldn't count on me to go the distance. Told him that I wouldn't be there in the end. I did what he really needed me to do. I killed Lindsey... tied up that loose end. Didn't want to but I did it because Angel needed me to do it. He and the others, well they've gone to do what else needs to be done and face the consequences for it in the end. Angel and Wesley, Gunn and Spike... It's what's expected of them. Illyria, now I'm pretty sure the only thing she wants to do is to kill things." Lorne sighed. "But at least she went. The things Angel's done... I didn't know if they were the right things to do. I told him I couldn't go that far. Told him that I've gone as far as I could. He didn't judge. He wouldn't. He knows what he is and he knows what I am.
He knows I'm not a hero."
Lorne stared at his reflection in the mirror again but it wasn't himself that he saw.
"If mom could see me now."
After a moment he swallowed the last of his Seabreeze. The bartender gestured at the glass but he shook his head and placed some money on the bar. "No, that's it for me, honey. There's some music that needs to be faced and I'm already late."
He smiled slightly. "After all, I am The Host."
