PROLOGUE
Disclaimer and Acknowledgments: This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.
Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.
Thanks is extended to Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz and the rest of the cast for giving life to these characters. Along to my friend, Wren, who pressured me to write this silly little story.
The night was something that humans would never understand.
Fortunately, he wasn't human.
He sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at his hands. They were palm-up towards him. He stared at them a moment and then grimaced and turned them palm-down. His gaze turned upon the floor for a moment. Then he stared off into nothing, thoughts trying in vain to form in his mind, and were shot down. He literally thought of nothing.
Not of the murders he'd committed so long ago.
Not of the people he'd saved yesterday.
Not of his friends.
Not of her.
Nothing.
Just that empty white space.
His head bent down as his eyes closed slowly. A sigh escaped from his lips as his hands reached up to cradle his head amidst thoughts of this nothingness. His body ached from a pain he'd always known. He shivered and shook.
He was a monster.
That's all he would ever be.
To anyone he'd ever known.
His shoulders shook as he struggled not to break down from the weight of it all, from the pain that radiated from the core of his being. From that, that soul he possessed. He was still hated, never trusted.
Sure, they looked up to him.
He was their "leader".
Yet they never fully trusted him.
Because of what he was.
What he'd done.
Even after all of his fighting, all of his years towards atonement. What was he to do? Would he also be denied a shred of comfort?
Buffy…
Even she had moved on.
She had found someone else. She had left him in the grave, so to speak. It wasn't fair. He wanted that too, craved it. Every fiber of his non-living being screamed out for someone to comfort him.
Would his atonement ever lead to anything? Or was it just another dark moon?