Author's Note: Angel ficlet (I don't do many of these) for the LiveJournal sunday100 challenge. August 31's subject: weather. Set in mid-season 3 (I'm pretty sure), "Lullaby."
Holy Water
By Trisana McGraw
Lighting rips the sky; contractions clench her body. How could dead tissue and victims' blood nurture a baby?
Sobs constrict her useless breathing. Fiery pain and sick guilt have her crumpled on hard ground.
Where's strong Darla in this simpering idiot? She glances at Angel, expecting revulsion. Sadness twists his face. This is their living baby.
Rain won't engulf this tiny flame. Droplets sting her skin like holy water, mingling with heavy tears. She's giving their son life, but Angel will protect it.
Death doesn't hurt like before. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . . rain mixes that into thick mud.