Author's Notes: Okay, let's see…I posted this in August, and when school started I decided to edit it, add my vocabulary words (you'd think that when you're in high school, you wouldn't have 'vocabulary') and turn it in. So, I'm re-post'n it! Be in awe of my large words!
Disclaimer: I only own the characters Zoey and Scott. Evita Camillio AKA Kitheri AKA Raiden Lewis owns Evita, and of course Mutant Enemy/WB/FOX owns all the Buffy or Angel characters.
The Worst of Fears
I passed blue and white tile that formed the pattern of diamonds as I walked down the hallway. I looked down at the small wooden box I held with two hands, to insure it's safety. The box had burned-in carvings of the four elements: Earth, wind, water and fire; through the keyhole, a small blue light glowed. What the box contained was important… it's cause especially, the thought of it made me to smile…something I haven't done in years.
I turned and looked at the door that now stood in front of me; the numbers 244 engraved in it. I sighed heavily before I knocked on the door. It seemed like hours before I got a response, but hours...time itself is nothing to me. " Come in." A tired and aged voice said. The voice of the person disgusted me, it was…the way it showed that it took effort to say two, one-syablle words. That it belonged to a person that old.
I opened the door and skulked to the middle of the room. The room was hardly decorated at all; a Celtic cross hung over a twin bed covered in daffodil colored sheets, beside the bed was a wooden brown table, a vase of flowers set upon it. The last items in the room were a window and a wheelchair, the wheelchair turned to stare out of the window.
"Angel?" I asked the wheelchair. The chair turned to show the person occupying it; I looked down at the floor away from the horrific sight that was my brother.
Angel sat in the wheelchair aquiescensly, he looked about 80 years old...maybe even older than that. His hair had turned white and balded; leaving a few patches on his head, which was ridden with liver spots, as did the rest of his skin. Resting on the arms of the wheelchair were Angel's hands, the skin had sunken in, only to leave his veins and bones to stick out. As I looked into his eyes, they were hardly visible underneath the masses of thick wrinkles. Wrinkles seemed to take over his entire face; eyes, forehead, cheeks…. The only factor that remained of the Angel that I knew was his nose, Evita said it was a nose that could sink the Titanic, I think she was right.
"Zoey? You're supposed to be in Greece…at least, that's according to your postcards." Angel said, gesturing to the stack of cards and letters that also rested on the table beside the bed, along with a small green card. Angel had gotten one to stay in the country once he became a citizen of…I guess Ireland again, when his heart beated for the first time in 251 years. Then he decided to be with Buffy till the day he died, so instead of being deported, he became an American citizen, he'd already done half of the work by losing his accent-I still haven't. As I took a quick look at the pictures on the postcards, I boded to send stuff to Angel, and I smiled briefly again that I had kept up with doing so.
"I was…but I decided to leave early, Scott's taking care of things." I said simply.
Angel searched for his mental file of Scott, " Scott…Scott McDaniels? The Scottish Immortal?"
" Yeah, that's him." Scott had always been a good friend of mine ever since we met at the Watcher's Council. He visited me…many, many years ago and found out I was a vampire, and left. But once Angel became human, Scott traveled with me, Evita and Penn; fighting a little demonic activity here and there, perpetrating old convicts and sending them to the penitentiary where they belong, I seemed to take Angel's place; just like the prophecy said 'And he will Shanshu, and another demon who holds a true human soul will rise and take his place'. I never wanted to take over Angel's job, sure, I'm the demon with a soul, but it doesn't mean that I restrict myself to live like a human; right now I'd rather be outside in an alley eating some guy in his early 20's…then after that, I'd go and kill something with a new weapon, or old, doesn't really matter, the scythe Angel had given to me years ago still held it's purpose of cleaving many, many, things. But, I realized a long time ago, that sometimes I have to take matters in my own hands.
" Nice guy." Was all the old man said.
I looked down at the ground, then to the box I held," Angel, I need to ask you something."
He waved his hand as if he was brushing something off his chair, " Ask away."
I didn't look up at my brother as I spoke, only at the box, " Um. I was...um, thinking…would you be, willing to….um-"
"Spit it out Zoey, I'm not going to live forever." Angel joked. He must have loved those six words, 'I'm not going to live forever', his smile told it all.
" And that's just it." I snapped back," You're not going to live forever…and, well, I conjured this." I opened the box to reveal an elusive blue orb; it was magnificent and garish, casting a blue glow on the surrounding walls.
" What is it?" Angel inquired his eyes transfixed on the ball of light.
" It'll change you back to what you were, all you need to do is touch it." I elucidated vaguely on purpose.
Angel's reaction to it wasn't what I had expected; his eyebrows scrunched together and his tone of voice had gone from friendly to ominous, "Back to what I was…back to a miserable vampire with a soul? To be tormented for eternity? Do you just want to make me miserable forever? To be responsible for having purloined my happiness?"
" Please," I begged, holding the box closer towards him" Please, Angel, do it for me."
" For you?" He said staring at me coldly," You are selfish beyond anything else."
He thinks I'm imprudent. That I'm his stupid little sister coming to town to wreak havoc on him, and everyone else around him. I don't care if other people think stuff like that, it doesn't hurt me in any way, shape or form, I say to them...well, I really don't say anything to them because I eat them or kill them, either way works for me. But Angel knew that, and he knew how to get to me, which is exactly what he did; each word he said hit like a punch in the stomach. Selfish, I'm not selfish. I do to much for people to be even called that," I'm not selfish!" I yelled at the old-timer, as I stamped my foot in frustration.
" Then why? If not for you, who then?"
"I'm…lonely. I need someone who I can talk to, and I need someone who'll be around for centuries." I said quietly.
" What about Penn, or Scott or Evita?"
" No!" I yelled again, then catching myself I explained the rest in a softer tone," You don't understand. I need family, someone who knows me and not just what I am."
" There are descendants of O'Rouke's all over this world. It could be an adventure, you could blow off a decade or two searching for them." He suggested.
" No, you still…I need my brother back." I simply said, turning my head to the side.
" I'm here…oh." Angel realized what I meant.
" See? Please…" I held the orb up again, making another attempt.
" No, Zoey…." Angel trailed off. He got a funny look on his face and put his hand on his beating heart.
What was he doing? What was happening? " Angel, what's going on?" I said quickly, my voice starting to sound frantic.
Angel looked up at me with a face I'll never forget and said, " I guess you won't have to worry about me controlling your eating habits; you'll have to learn right from wrong on your own now, sis." Angel's eyes rolled up in his head and the sound of his heart that had pounded in my ears stopped, leaving the room in an eerie silence.
" Angel?" I said in a pained voice, gulping down tears, " Angel?"
I shook my head violently and backed away from the corpse as tears flowed from my eyes. His death is spurious to me; he can't die, not now, or even ever, " No. No. No. No." I took a step towards Angel; knelt and took one of his hands into mine, " Angel! Don't leave me! Don't leave me, Angel! Don't…leave…me…here… alone."
Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Penn; I ran up and hugged him, I rested my head on his shoulder as I cried out the death of my brother. I could feel Penn looking at the dead body of the once Scourge of Europe; he nodded towards the body," Goodbye teacher."
There were a few seconds of silence as Penn and I stood there speechless; then the door opened again and five nurses filed in, corrobativing Angel's death and disengagement from us. Doctors and technicians followed; they pushed us out of the room so they could do their business and get it over with. We were herded out of the room and into the hallway with blue and white tile in a diamond pattern………….
I shot straight up in bed; clumps of hair were glued to my face with sweat, and I slowly pulled them away. I looked around and saw that I was were I had also been, my bedroom in the mansion in Sunnydale. I looked at my clock 10:30PM, and then outside, it was early morning for me-but I Angel would probably be asleep. He's changed his ways so much to be the human man he's always wanted to be, and forgotten the demon inside of him. Something I will never degrade myself to.
I looked at my pillow; it was just a dream, just a nightmare just an illusion in my head, " Just a dream." I said out loud to justify that what had happened in my sleep hadn't in real life.
I got out of bed and slipped on a blue silk robe; I walked out of my room and made my way to Angel's. I stood in the doorway and watched my big brother sleep; he tossed and turned in a sleepless sleep. The horrifying images of Hell tormenting him through dreams of pure agony.
The awful accounts of what had happened in my dream drifted into my mind and I made a decision. From now on, I will do anything and everything to make the accounts of my dream not happen…including Angel's humanity.
I walked away from Angel's room and back into mine. I dressed quickly and walked out of the mansion; grabbing my scythe as I did so. Before I started my hunt, I looked back at the mansion and nodded, nothing like my dream is ever going to become reality. With that thought in mind, I felt my face change to my more feral features; the tips of my fangs slightly overlapping my lip-but not to the point that anyone would notice, the skin overlapping my eyebrows in small arches, and the skin forming ridges at the top of my nose. I looked at the blade of my scythe with a malignant expression on my face and then out to the city below with, Sunnydale.