Title: Music for the Soul: Part VI
Author: Katherine Eve
Summary: A reunion between friends and Angel's first meeting with Eve.
Characters: Angel, Doyle, Eve
Disclaimer: The characters of Doyle and Angel are Joss Whedon's. I'm just borrowing and probably not doing them justice.
Note: Okay, so it's turning out to be a little lengthy. If you've been reading, please stick with it =). Oh, and hopefully the breaks between the present and flashbacks are clear enough.
Chapter VI
Angel put the rumbling of the car's engine to rest as he turned the key. His mind was more troubled than ever. This was not just another case. This was not a helpless stranger who happened to be mixed up in something they didn't know how to handle. This was a friend. He had spent the whole night listening to Eve. Angel had uttered fewer words than he usually did. He didn't know how to talk to her after all those years. Eve had forgiven him for what he had done. It was in her soul to forgive. Angel, however, had not forgiven himself.
"I'm glad you decided to come back," Angel remarked at the figured sitting on the floor as he entered the mansion.
"Well, I didn't have anywhere else to go. I don't exactly have a bundle of money on me to pay for a motel. Besides, I figured I need to be here to rescue you when the whole building collapses in on itself," Doyle smiled as he pulled himself to his feet.
"I'm sorry, man. I know I should trust you. It's just hard for me after all the crap I've been through. If you say you were just out walking, then I should believe you. And if you were working on the case, well, it's your right, like you said." Doyle's apology sounded thought out and sincere.
Angel shook his head. "No, it's not my right. We're working on this thing together, Doyle. I need you. I wouldn't have brought you along if I didn't. You're important and not just as a partner, but as a friend. I would never betray you as either."
Doyle's pathetic stare slowly transformed into a gigantic grin across his face. "You really mean that? Partners?"
Angel nodded in conformation.
"Well, in that case, let's get to work. Now, I went and did a little digging myself tonight and found a friend of the girl's. Her name's Amanda Swanson. The friend, I mean. The girl we're looking for is Eve. Anyway, she got me the number of Eve's apartment building. I dropped by the place to talk to a few people and find out some information, but it doesn't matter because you've already talked to her, haven't you." Doyle's voice changed to a flat tone as the realization came to him.
Angel's response was a simple nod.
"Yeah, I figured. So what's the deal?" Doyle sighed as he shifted his weight.
After stripping off his coat, Angel proceeded to relay all the information he received from Eve earlier that night. "She knows she's being watched by someone."
"Or something," Doyle added. "Does she know why?"
"She claims she doesn't know," Angel answered.
"And you don't believe her," Doyle responded.
Angel's voice was confident. "I know she's holding something back."
"What about last night? What did she tell you then?"
Angel rolled his eyes. "Doyle, I told you. I just went for a walk. I didn't follow her last night. Tonight was the first time."
"Wait, you really didn't go looking for her last night? 'Cause I talked to a few people in the building who said they saw a big, shadowy fellow following her around. I just figured it was you," Doyle explained in confusion.
Silence was enough to confirm the two had simultaneously came to the same conclusion, but Angel's voice rang through the mansion, stating the obvious. "It's found her."
"Well, whatever *it* is won't waste much more time. We've got to go find her." Doyle took action as he spoke, gathering up his jacket in his arms and heading toward the door.
A shocking stream of yellow light sent Angel darting to the nearest dark corner. Doyle quickly slammed the door shut, realizing his mistake. "Oh yeah. Day. I forgot. But we've got to do something!"
"No we don't. Not now, anyway. She'll be safe during the day. Whatever *it* is, it won't be attacking by daylight." His voice was calm and collect just seconds after his brush with the sun's blazing rays.
"But how can you be so sure, Angel? How do you know she's not just taking an innocent stroll down the street right now, and little does she know a big, ugly monster's ready to make her dead? We've rarely lost a client, and I think now would be a really bad time to fall short on the job." Doyle's fingers were still wrapped tightly around the door handle as he ranted.
Angel picked each word in his reply carefully as he inched his way toward his hysterical friend. "Trust me, Doyle, she's not out taking a stroll. We have time. I'm not about ready to let her die."
Something in Angel's tone of voice or in his eyes told Doyle there was more to this than he had originally thought. It wasn't just the girl's music that had crept below Angel's impenetrable surface. It was the girl herself. Concealing his suspicions, Doyle nodded his head in compliance.
***
She knew both doors to the apartment were bolted and locked up tight, but she kept glancing at them nervously anyway. After double checking that all the window blinds were drawn, she entered the living room and sunk deep into a worn-out cushion of her couch. Anxiously, she reached out and took hold of the book awaiting her on the opposite cushion.
Wide, blue eyes scanned every word of each of the yellowish pages, but nothing registered in her brain. Concentration was absent as her mind was drawn astray; preoccupied with increasing fear and images of her own destruction. It was getting closer. She knew time was running short.
Curls of springy, red hair refused to stay tucked behind her ears as she continued to flip pages. Uncertain of why, fear overcame her every time she raised her arm to brush the locks away from her field of vision. The few strands of daylight streaming through the cracks in the blinds should have been a comfort, but somehow they only made her feel more uneasy. Nothing could alleviate the icy feeling of terror grabbing at her throat.
She felt like a child huddling in a fetal position in the middle of the night. Thoroughly believing the evil monsters are present and ready to attack. Concealed by the never-ending blackness of the room. The only protection is an inadequate blanket, which the child fearfully clings to in hopes the night will soon come to a close.
But the attack never came. She lost count of how many pages she had turned in anticipation. Her eyes barely glazed over the print now. Her hands still clung to the paper only to provide some sort of a security blanket. After several unending minutes her fingers turned the last page.
The blue and whites of her eyes disappeared under the lids as she let her head fall back and her eyelids close. Why was she so scared of the end? She had accepted it before. What made this time so different? She didn't remember fearing death when she was younger. Her faith in God and Heaven was unbending then. She had no doubt as to what would happen when the end came. Where she would go. Now, she wasn't so sure. Her beliefs were still there, but her situation had changed.
With the thought of God in her head, she pulled enough courage together to slide off the couch and lay her book on the low table in the center of the room. Biting her lower lip, she paced to the two-door hallway. The handle on the left door gave way under the pressure of her hand. She entered, locking the door behind her.
****
***With each night that passed, the distance between the vampire and his suffering grew. With each soaring note that clung to the air by the faceless voice from above, the pain eased away. In the last week he had almost experienced something that had been lost amongst all the darkness he'd stumbled through since the curse. Happiness. Almost.
Every song was a work in progress. She wrote during the day. Masked by the blackness below her window each night, he could hear the evolution of each piece. What had she added during his daytime slumber as he had huddled beneath the fire escape's shadows?
He had barely drunk anything in the most recent nights. Blood meant little since he had first heard the voice for fear he would alarm her with the eruption of clattering produced by his nonproductive hunts for the scampering, four-legged creatures he shared the alley with. If she became aware of his presence the voice might cease to come.
The voice. That all she was. Despite being the reason for the continuation of his existence, she was nothing more than that. Nothing tangible. Just the music. But that was enough. He was, of course, curious as to whom it belonged to, but he always decided against climbing the fire escape that offered an inviting view into the room. The mystery seemed to add to the experience. No face. No name. Just the music.
For seven straight nights he had listened. Sometimes it came for hours. Sometimes only for a few minutes. He knew a night would come when the only sound in the alley would be the tiny claws of the rats clicking on the asphalt. The present night was not that night. Sound came from the window, but it was not what he wanted to hear.
More than one voice occupied the girl's room as an overwhelming explosion of emotions welcomed the vampire as he awoke. Two deeper, more mature voices had presented themselves. A woman and a man, both saturated with vexation. The two new voices growled with intensity at one another, mixed with the weeping of their daughter, until each individual voice was lost in a indistinguishable muddle of noise. What the altercation was about was impossible for the vampire to decipher, but an unrestrainable rush of curiosity urged him to investigate.
Uncertain of the consequences, he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal of the fire escape above him. With the rage of the argument emanating from several stories up, he silently climbed. The shouts of the family's squabble intensified in his ears as he ascended until he was only one level below them. He brought his movements to a halt and listened.
Even the girl's gasps between her sobs sounded musical. She did not speak a word. Just cried as her parents ranted. Again consumed by his curiosity, the vampire crawled up the fire escape one more level. Crouched just below the right corner of the window, he peered through the cracks of the blinds.
Crumpled in small, rickety chair resting on a bare, wooden floor, the vampire's eyes fell upon the gaunt figure of a teenage girl. Only the back of her head was visible; amber curls draping over the narrow shoulders. Her face buried in her hands, she was unable to look at the violently animated figures of her parents warring in her doorway. Without raising her head from her hands her voice was just strong enough to put an end to the bickering.
"Please, stop it!"
Both silhouettes ceased all activity in the doorway and stared at their daughter who had now risen from the rickety chair. During the moment of silence the vampire's keen eyes caught sight of a reflection in the dingy mirror crookedly nailed to the wall opposite him. In it, was the distraught face of the girl; her eyes reddened by her sobbing. The face of the voice.
"I know it's hard," her voice was full of desperation as she continued, "but fighting isn't going to make the problems go away. I know I'm just a stupid teenage girl who doesn't know anything about real life, but I know this is not getting us anywhere."
Still studying her dispirited reflection, the words she spoke seemed distant and were far from his mind. Her face, streamed with tears, was all that consumed his thoughts. In his experience faces were simply used as masks, concealing more than they revealed. Never showing truth. Just deception. But in this face, there were no secrets. No lies. So much innocence saturated her eyes that the vampire now felt his own begin to brim with water.
Her lips moved, but he never heard the words. Her eyes closed and she let her head fall gracefully to her chest. The movement of the two figures exiting the doorway broke the vampire away from his meticulous examination. Whatever she had said, her parents had taken every word to heart.
Letting out a deep breath, her head rose and once more her reflection appeared in the mirror. This time, however, a content smile began to creep across her face. Unexpectedly, her body turned until the mirror displayed the back of her head. Both sets of eyes widened as they locked gazes.
Terrified by the dark stranger peeking through the blinds of her window, she was unable to release a scream from her throat. The black eyes captured her for a moment. Finally she forced her frozen body to swing around and break the connection. Staring in horror at the image of the window in the mirror, she saw no one.
Once she had collected a small amount of courage she again forced her body to turn. Nothing. No black eyes. Curious as to whether her imagination had taken control of her sense, she hesitantly clicked off the light switch. In the blackness, her shivering body huddled beneath the covers of her bed. Refusing to pin her eyelids shut, her view remained fixed on the window. No sleep would come to her that night.****
To Be Continued...
Author: Katherine Eve
Summary: A reunion between friends and Angel's first meeting with Eve.
Characters: Angel, Doyle, Eve
Disclaimer: The characters of Doyle and Angel are Joss Whedon's. I'm just borrowing and probably not doing them justice.
Note: Okay, so it's turning out to be a little lengthy. If you've been reading, please stick with it =). Oh, and hopefully the breaks between the present and flashbacks are clear enough.
Chapter VI
Angel put the rumbling of the car's engine to rest as he turned the key. His mind was more troubled than ever. This was not just another case. This was not a helpless stranger who happened to be mixed up in something they didn't know how to handle. This was a friend. He had spent the whole night listening to Eve. Angel had uttered fewer words than he usually did. He didn't know how to talk to her after all those years. Eve had forgiven him for what he had done. It was in her soul to forgive. Angel, however, had not forgiven himself.
"I'm glad you decided to come back," Angel remarked at the figured sitting on the floor as he entered the mansion.
"Well, I didn't have anywhere else to go. I don't exactly have a bundle of money on me to pay for a motel. Besides, I figured I need to be here to rescue you when the whole building collapses in on itself," Doyle smiled as he pulled himself to his feet.
"I'm sorry, man. I know I should trust you. It's just hard for me after all the crap I've been through. If you say you were just out walking, then I should believe you. And if you were working on the case, well, it's your right, like you said." Doyle's apology sounded thought out and sincere.
Angel shook his head. "No, it's not my right. We're working on this thing together, Doyle. I need you. I wouldn't have brought you along if I didn't. You're important and not just as a partner, but as a friend. I would never betray you as either."
Doyle's pathetic stare slowly transformed into a gigantic grin across his face. "You really mean that? Partners?"
Angel nodded in conformation.
"Well, in that case, let's get to work. Now, I went and did a little digging myself tonight and found a friend of the girl's. Her name's Amanda Swanson. The friend, I mean. The girl we're looking for is Eve. Anyway, she got me the number of Eve's apartment building. I dropped by the place to talk to a few people and find out some information, but it doesn't matter because you've already talked to her, haven't you." Doyle's voice changed to a flat tone as the realization came to him.
Angel's response was a simple nod.
"Yeah, I figured. So what's the deal?" Doyle sighed as he shifted his weight.
After stripping off his coat, Angel proceeded to relay all the information he received from Eve earlier that night. "She knows she's being watched by someone."
"Or something," Doyle added. "Does she know why?"
"She claims she doesn't know," Angel answered.
"And you don't believe her," Doyle responded.
Angel's voice was confident. "I know she's holding something back."
"What about last night? What did she tell you then?"
Angel rolled his eyes. "Doyle, I told you. I just went for a walk. I didn't follow her last night. Tonight was the first time."
"Wait, you really didn't go looking for her last night? 'Cause I talked to a few people in the building who said they saw a big, shadowy fellow following her around. I just figured it was you," Doyle explained in confusion.
Silence was enough to confirm the two had simultaneously came to the same conclusion, but Angel's voice rang through the mansion, stating the obvious. "It's found her."
"Well, whatever *it* is won't waste much more time. We've got to go find her." Doyle took action as he spoke, gathering up his jacket in his arms and heading toward the door.
A shocking stream of yellow light sent Angel darting to the nearest dark corner. Doyle quickly slammed the door shut, realizing his mistake. "Oh yeah. Day. I forgot. But we've got to do something!"
"No we don't. Not now, anyway. She'll be safe during the day. Whatever *it* is, it won't be attacking by daylight." His voice was calm and collect just seconds after his brush with the sun's blazing rays.
"But how can you be so sure, Angel? How do you know she's not just taking an innocent stroll down the street right now, and little does she know a big, ugly monster's ready to make her dead? We've rarely lost a client, and I think now would be a really bad time to fall short on the job." Doyle's fingers were still wrapped tightly around the door handle as he ranted.
Angel picked each word in his reply carefully as he inched his way toward his hysterical friend. "Trust me, Doyle, she's not out taking a stroll. We have time. I'm not about ready to let her die."
Something in Angel's tone of voice or in his eyes told Doyle there was more to this than he had originally thought. It wasn't just the girl's music that had crept below Angel's impenetrable surface. It was the girl herself. Concealing his suspicions, Doyle nodded his head in compliance.
***
She knew both doors to the apartment were bolted and locked up tight, but she kept glancing at them nervously anyway. After double checking that all the window blinds were drawn, she entered the living room and sunk deep into a worn-out cushion of her couch. Anxiously, she reached out and took hold of the book awaiting her on the opposite cushion.
Wide, blue eyes scanned every word of each of the yellowish pages, but nothing registered in her brain. Concentration was absent as her mind was drawn astray; preoccupied with increasing fear and images of her own destruction. It was getting closer. She knew time was running short.
Curls of springy, red hair refused to stay tucked behind her ears as she continued to flip pages. Uncertain of why, fear overcame her every time she raised her arm to brush the locks away from her field of vision. The few strands of daylight streaming through the cracks in the blinds should have been a comfort, but somehow they only made her feel more uneasy. Nothing could alleviate the icy feeling of terror grabbing at her throat.
She felt like a child huddling in a fetal position in the middle of the night. Thoroughly believing the evil monsters are present and ready to attack. Concealed by the never-ending blackness of the room. The only protection is an inadequate blanket, which the child fearfully clings to in hopes the night will soon come to a close.
But the attack never came. She lost count of how many pages she had turned in anticipation. Her eyes barely glazed over the print now. Her hands still clung to the paper only to provide some sort of a security blanket. After several unending minutes her fingers turned the last page.
The blue and whites of her eyes disappeared under the lids as she let her head fall back and her eyelids close. Why was she so scared of the end? She had accepted it before. What made this time so different? She didn't remember fearing death when she was younger. Her faith in God and Heaven was unbending then. She had no doubt as to what would happen when the end came. Where she would go. Now, she wasn't so sure. Her beliefs were still there, but her situation had changed.
With the thought of God in her head, she pulled enough courage together to slide off the couch and lay her book on the low table in the center of the room. Biting her lower lip, she paced to the two-door hallway. The handle on the left door gave way under the pressure of her hand. She entered, locking the door behind her.
****
***With each night that passed, the distance between the vampire and his suffering grew. With each soaring note that clung to the air by the faceless voice from above, the pain eased away. In the last week he had almost experienced something that had been lost amongst all the darkness he'd stumbled through since the curse. Happiness. Almost.
Every song was a work in progress. She wrote during the day. Masked by the blackness below her window each night, he could hear the evolution of each piece. What had she added during his daytime slumber as he had huddled beneath the fire escape's shadows?
He had barely drunk anything in the most recent nights. Blood meant little since he had first heard the voice for fear he would alarm her with the eruption of clattering produced by his nonproductive hunts for the scampering, four-legged creatures he shared the alley with. If she became aware of his presence the voice might cease to come.
The voice. That all she was. Despite being the reason for the continuation of his existence, she was nothing more than that. Nothing tangible. Just the music. But that was enough. He was, of course, curious as to whom it belonged to, but he always decided against climbing the fire escape that offered an inviting view into the room. The mystery seemed to add to the experience. No face. No name. Just the music.
For seven straight nights he had listened. Sometimes it came for hours. Sometimes only for a few minutes. He knew a night would come when the only sound in the alley would be the tiny claws of the rats clicking on the asphalt. The present night was not that night. Sound came from the window, but it was not what he wanted to hear.
More than one voice occupied the girl's room as an overwhelming explosion of emotions welcomed the vampire as he awoke. Two deeper, more mature voices had presented themselves. A woman and a man, both saturated with vexation. The two new voices growled with intensity at one another, mixed with the weeping of their daughter, until each individual voice was lost in a indistinguishable muddle of noise. What the altercation was about was impossible for the vampire to decipher, but an unrestrainable rush of curiosity urged him to investigate.
Uncertain of the consequences, he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal of the fire escape above him. With the rage of the argument emanating from several stories up, he silently climbed. The shouts of the family's squabble intensified in his ears as he ascended until he was only one level below them. He brought his movements to a halt and listened.
Even the girl's gasps between her sobs sounded musical. She did not speak a word. Just cried as her parents ranted. Again consumed by his curiosity, the vampire crawled up the fire escape one more level. Crouched just below the right corner of the window, he peered through the cracks of the blinds.
Crumpled in small, rickety chair resting on a bare, wooden floor, the vampire's eyes fell upon the gaunt figure of a teenage girl. Only the back of her head was visible; amber curls draping over the narrow shoulders. Her face buried in her hands, she was unable to look at the violently animated figures of her parents warring in her doorway. Without raising her head from her hands her voice was just strong enough to put an end to the bickering.
"Please, stop it!"
Both silhouettes ceased all activity in the doorway and stared at their daughter who had now risen from the rickety chair. During the moment of silence the vampire's keen eyes caught sight of a reflection in the dingy mirror crookedly nailed to the wall opposite him. In it, was the distraught face of the girl; her eyes reddened by her sobbing. The face of the voice.
"I know it's hard," her voice was full of desperation as she continued, "but fighting isn't going to make the problems go away. I know I'm just a stupid teenage girl who doesn't know anything about real life, but I know this is not getting us anywhere."
Still studying her dispirited reflection, the words she spoke seemed distant and were far from his mind. Her face, streamed with tears, was all that consumed his thoughts. In his experience faces were simply used as masks, concealing more than they revealed. Never showing truth. Just deception. But in this face, there were no secrets. No lies. So much innocence saturated her eyes that the vampire now felt his own begin to brim with water.
Her lips moved, but he never heard the words. Her eyes closed and she let her head fall gracefully to her chest. The movement of the two figures exiting the doorway broke the vampire away from his meticulous examination. Whatever she had said, her parents had taken every word to heart.
Letting out a deep breath, her head rose and once more her reflection appeared in the mirror. This time, however, a content smile began to creep across her face. Unexpectedly, her body turned until the mirror displayed the back of her head. Both sets of eyes widened as they locked gazes.
Terrified by the dark stranger peeking through the blinds of her window, she was unable to release a scream from her throat. The black eyes captured her for a moment. Finally she forced her frozen body to swing around and break the connection. Staring in horror at the image of the window in the mirror, she saw no one.
Once she had collected a small amount of courage she again forced her body to turn. Nothing. No black eyes. Curious as to whether her imagination had taken control of her sense, she hesitantly clicked off the light switch. In the blackness, her shivering body huddled beneath the covers of her bed. Refusing to pin her eyelids shut, her view remained fixed on the window. No sleep would come to her that night.****
To Be Continued...