Step into Another World
A/N: It's been a while since I worked on this one. I thought it would give me a nice change of pace (and help me work on my writer's block). So be nice to me and review.
Angel
He had always been a loner. There was no change in that. But now. now he was an even bigger loner. His only friend in all of Los Angeles was dead. Boy is that a downer. All Angel had done for a week was mope. There was no caring shoulder by his side, nobody who felt his pain. Nobody could understand what he was going through. For years and years (hundreds of them) he had been a horrible per- thing. He was an evil vampire. A killer.
He had never really lost somebody. Sure his whole family was dead, but he had no time for remorse back then, but this was different. Doyle was the first person he had lost while he had a soul. The blow was horrible. But that's why he was here.
The Oracles would surely help one of their own. Doyle had visions of the future. Without him there was no way for Angel to get in contact with the real world. There was no way he could save people. But they were being stubborn.
He had argued that without Doyle he could no longer work for the Powers. But they had a counter argument, if that's what you'd call it. "For every door that closes another opens." Whatever that meant. He knew what it meant. But what did it mean in his case?
Was another person going to come into his life and replace his only beloved friend? How was that possible? Doyle was Doyle. In Angel's life, he had only loved Buffy. But that was a different love.
So he left, head down in shame. He just knew that life would never be the same.
*@*
He was right; life was not the same. It was much harder. In the past month he had only slayed one demon. One demon! That was not progress. Where was this door that was supposed to open? All doors were closed.
That's when it happened.
The vision hit. The blinding pain that Doyle had once possessed. The pictures flash so fast that he could hardly see them. But for some reason he understood what was happening. He could feel the pain. It was the worst pain. Not from the vision. No, it was the victim's pain. How did Doyle survive?
The vision seemed to go on for hours when in reality it was not more then a minute. It was Wesley Windom- Pryce. He was once Buffy's Watcher. But now. now he was stupid. A Kungai demon. It was hurting him.
The pictures stopped. The pain went on. If only Advil helped vampires.
I have to save him. But where? Charleston Ave. How do I know that? Oh right. The vision.
He ran. He ran to save this man who had once offered to save him (although he didn't do much when the council said no).
*@*
When he got there it was too late. No not too late.
Angel swooped in. The demon was attacking Wesley. Biting him. Chewing on his arm.
Angel attacked. He fought and fought with the weapon he had brought. He pushed Wesley away.
Yes, it was too late. Wesley was hurt. Badly. If he didn't kill the demon quickly, Wesley would surely bleed to death.
So he fought. He fought until the demon died. His head was still surging with pain but that didn't stop him from fighting, killing, ending the demon's pain.
He couldn't help thinking that he was not meant for this. The visions were not his. No, they were Doyle's. But still it did not feel right. He knew that later on, he would not be able to take the pain of the vision and fight what he saw. He would need people. More people.
And that's when the insanity started.
A/N: It's been a while since I worked on this one. I thought it would give me a nice change of pace (and help me work on my writer's block). So be nice to me and review.
Angel
He had always been a loner. There was no change in that. But now. now he was an even bigger loner. His only friend in all of Los Angeles was dead. Boy is that a downer. All Angel had done for a week was mope. There was no caring shoulder by his side, nobody who felt his pain. Nobody could understand what he was going through. For years and years (hundreds of them) he had been a horrible per- thing. He was an evil vampire. A killer.
He had never really lost somebody. Sure his whole family was dead, but he had no time for remorse back then, but this was different. Doyle was the first person he had lost while he had a soul. The blow was horrible. But that's why he was here.
The Oracles would surely help one of their own. Doyle had visions of the future. Without him there was no way for Angel to get in contact with the real world. There was no way he could save people. But they were being stubborn.
He had argued that without Doyle he could no longer work for the Powers. But they had a counter argument, if that's what you'd call it. "For every door that closes another opens." Whatever that meant. He knew what it meant. But what did it mean in his case?
Was another person going to come into his life and replace his only beloved friend? How was that possible? Doyle was Doyle. In Angel's life, he had only loved Buffy. But that was a different love.
So he left, head down in shame. He just knew that life would never be the same.
*@*
He was right; life was not the same. It was much harder. In the past month he had only slayed one demon. One demon! That was not progress. Where was this door that was supposed to open? All doors were closed.
That's when it happened.
The vision hit. The blinding pain that Doyle had once possessed. The pictures flash so fast that he could hardly see them. But for some reason he understood what was happening. He could feel the pain. It was the worst pain. Not from the vision. No, it was the victim's pain. How did Doyle survive?
The vision seemed to go on for hours when in reality it was not more then a minute. It was Wesley Windom- Pryce. He was once Buffy's Watcher. But now. now he was stupid. A Kungai demon. It was hurting him.
The pictures stopped. The pain went on. If only Advil helped vampires.
I have to save him. But where? Charleston Ave. How do I know that? Oh right. The vision.
He ran. He ran to save this man who had once offered to save him (although he didn't do much when the council said no).
*@*
When he got there it was too late. No not too late.
Angel swooped in. The demon was attacking Wesley. Biting him. Chewing on his arm.
Angel attacked. He fought and fought with the weapon he had brought. He pushed Wesley away.
Yes, it was too late. Wesley was hurt. Badly. If he didn't kill the demon quickly, Wesley would surely bleed to death.
So he fought. He fought until the demon died. His head was still surging with pain but that didn't stop him from fighting, killing, ending the demon's pain.
He couldn't help thinking that he was not meant for this. The visions were not his. No, they were Doyle's. But still it did not feel right. He knew that later on, he would not be able to take the pain of the vision and fight what he saw. He would need people. More people.
And that's when the insanity started.