Author: Asrai
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 12 - Land of Shame
*"And you're absolutely sure that *this*," Buffy made a sweeping gesture around her, "will help us to catch the latest nasty?"
Thomas couldn't suppress a sigh as he looked around the room himself. It was crowded, and on the stage stood a rather Fyarl demon butchering 'We Can Work It Out' in his own language.
"No, I'm not sure. A contact of mine got me this address. He said that we should ask the, ah, the Host if we needed help with a special case. I'd say that our current monster of the week qualifies as a special case, don't you think?"
Buffy thought of the two victims brutally murdered and nodded.
"But does it have to be a demon karaoke bar? What kind of a name is 'Caritas' anyway?"*
~~~
The rain has to have stopped sometime during the night, 'cause I wake up with the sun shining fully in my face. I sneeze, open my eyes and blink into the bright room.
The events of the night rush back and I smile at the mental image of Angel's face as he entered me for the first time; the face of someone who's just been granted the biggest wish of his life. Smiling, I turn around, hoping to see him still asleep- I bet he looks just adorable when he sleeps- but find the spot next to me empty.
Weird.
Perhaps he's in the shower? I slowly get up and pad over to the bathroom, but even before I open the door I know that it's empty- except for my breathing, the room is completely silent.
I turn around, surveying the room- it's a total chaos because my bag's fallen off the bed sometime during our activities and spilled its content all over the floor; but Angel's coat is still thrown over the chair where he put it last night; his boots lie in one corner of the room to where I threw them and his shirt's lying half-buried under a pillow. The only thing that's gone are his pants.
Frowning, I take a peek out of the window- it's gotta be almost noon- perhaps he took off when he sensed the sun coming up? But why did he only put his jeans on, and not the rest? Was he in such a hurry? But he could just have drawn the curtains and stayed. I know it's probable futile, but I search the room for a note from him nevertheless- nothing. And I know it's even more futile, but I call out anyway.
"Angel?"
~~~
After a quick shower and no breakfast, I slam the door to the motel room shut and head straight to Angel's apartment. I mean, it's no biggie, waking up the morning after to find your boy-toy gone- but Angel's no boy-toy, he's my boyfriend. I said it. Angel's my boyfriend and even if he's got that pesky skin condition of his, he can write, can't he? A note or something like that would have been nice. Still, I'm not mad at him, though that would classify as my normal reaction in a situation like that. No, my present feeling could be described as 'concerned', I guess- 'cause I know Angel, at least a little bit and he's definitely not the wham, bam, thank you m'am type. Not Angel.
My feeling of concern increases even more as I reach his apartment and find that the door's wide open.
"Angel?" I almost scream his name, stepping into the room. It's dark and in the moment before switching on the light, I have a vision of him coming out of his bedroom, all groggy and with his hair tousled from sleeping, and he smiles and kisses me and apologizes for leaving- the light illuminates the apartment and the sick feeling in my stomach doesn't settle in because I'm hungry.
The room's completely empty of any of Angel's stuff.
~~~
How I found the way back to my motel will always stay a mystery to me, because I sure as hell don't remember me walking back there. I apparently found the way alright 'cause I suddenly find myself staring at my door. I slowly fish the key out of my pocket and open it. The room smells of wet clothes and sex- not really a pleasant mix, especially now when the post- coital-afterglow bubble has burst. I open the window and sit slowly on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.
What the hell is going on?
I mean- he can't- Angel can't just disappear, can he? Of course he can't, that's impossible, and yet there's no trace of him but his clothes lying strewn around in this room. If not for them, I could think that I dreamed the whole thing and that he never existed- that's what his apartment says after all. Sure, the bed and the bookshelves, all that stuff's still there, but everything else- his books, his clothes, even the damn mug he used to drink blood from are gone. Poof.
Gone. Gone, gone, gonefuckinggone.
This is so not happening.
Groaning, I bury my face in my hands and suppress the desire to destroy something.
I must have fallen asleep again, 'cause when I open my eyes it's dark outside and I lie curled up on the bed- that bed which holds good memories of last night but that I've grown to despise in an amazingly short time. I get up and search the room for some stakes. Screw Angel, I tell myself, he's gone, so what? Just 'cause one vamp disappears without a trace doesn't mean that the rest of them will do the same. I'm going to kill a few and then I'll feel better. Let off some steam. Right.
And perhaps, just perhaps, I'll find Angel, improbable as that is.
I wander slowly through the graveyards, not even attempting to sense vampires- they'll come on their own. It's surely just my imagination, but it's damn cold tonight and I wrap my arms around myself as I cross Sunny Rest. If Angel was here now he'd give me his coat. I stop that train of thought before it leaves station- "If"-sentences never lead far after all. He'll show up again. He has to. Perhaps he moved while I was gone and just forgot to tell me. And I could always ask Faith and the others.
Although I really don't want to do that. What I want is to forget that there's another slayer than me. And at the moment I'd rather bite my tongue off than to ask her or the Watch-Man for help.
I shut the gate behind me and cross the street when I hear someone screaming in the distance and shortly after that a voice calling for help. I take off in the direction of the voice and find myself in a dark alley where a couple of vampires have apparently decided to interrupt a couple in whatever they were doing- though the open blouse of the girl is quite an indicator to what that was- to grab a quick bite.
Well, not if I have to say something about that.
"Hey guys!" I call out to draw their attention to me and slowly take out two stakes. I take aim, throw one stake and watch satisfied as it buries itself directly in one vamp's heart- he explodes into dust immediately and that seems to be the sure sign of attack for all the other ones, 'cause they lunge at me all at once.
I smile grimly and throw myself into the fight.
~~~
I feel a bit more like myself again after I stake all of those bastards. The couple even managed to mutter a hasty "thanks" before taking off rather abruptly- which didn't surprise me very much 'cause that's normal. People seem to think I'm more dangerous to them than the vampires. Heh. What a joke. They never run from Superman and he can destroy a car while sneezing. The world's unfair.
Whatever. I don't encounter any more vampires, though I check all of the cemeteries, which is a pity 'cause I'm really all warmed up and itching for a fight now. I pushed all the thoughts of Angel back into a drawer of my mind labeled 'Not worth my attention' and although that strategy usually works just fine, tonight it's failing miserably.
After making a third sweep through Restfield, I give up, a bit unnerved and head back to my motel. Seems there's nothing else to do but to sleep and hope that I won't dream of him. Halfway through the now deserted Main Street I stop suddenly dead in my tracks and concentrate. I could've sworn that there was something lurking in the shadows just a moment ago. but the tingle disappears before I can grasp it and shrugging, I resume my way. I'm so winded up I'd probably stake a cat if it so much as meowed menacingly.
I'm kind of glad when my temporary home's in sight. Yeah, I know I slept half of the day away, but I'm still tired- not really in my body, but in my mind, if that makes sense. But sleeping is the perfect opportunity not to think. I open the door, switch on the lights and jerk my head up at the same moment 'cause something's not right.
And freeze.
This isn't real, a panicked voice in my head babbles, this ain't real, Buffy, that's a class A nightmare and c'mon Buffy, wake up, wake up.
I slowly take a step into the room and clasp my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. There, on the bed- on my fucking bed- lies the couple I saved earlier tonight.
Naked.
Dead.
I can see that guy's face- his expression is. his eyes are closed and his head stands in a weird angle to the rest of his body- his neck's broken, the little voice whispers in my head. Broken like a child's toy, somebody was careless here. he's lying half atop of the girl, his arms wrapped around her, his twisted head resting on her naked breast. The girl's eyes are shut, too and her neck's also broken, my registers absentmindedly.
The look like two lovers resting after making love. Like two lovers basking in the afterglow. Except that they're broken and they're dead and they'll never make out in dark alleys again.
A breath hitches in my throat and although I haven't eaten anything today my stomach churns. I take a stumbling step back, then another out of the room and then I trip, fall flat on my butt, roll somehow over and vomit.
My eyes are wide open but unseeing as I empty the meager contents of my stomach on the street and though soon I'm only coughing, when I think that the both of them will never open their eyes again, I begin to retch again. My stomach and my throat start to hurt, but I can't help it- I half sit, half lie there on the concrete floor in front of my motel room's door and fuck it, that situation's just too screwed up for words.
I'm still retching when there's suddenly a cool hand stroking over my back and gently taking my hair out of my face and putting it into a ponytail.
"Sssh." a soft voice says, "It's alright, Buffy, everything's alright now."
Sweet nonsense that's comforting nevertheless and when I finally look up from the floor after what seems like a very long time, I stare into Angel's dark eyes.
"Here." He holds out a wet cloth to me and I accept it gratefully and wipe my face and mouth with it. I'm cold now, and numb, and I know that I should wonder why he's turned up apparently out of thin air, but I don't. I'm just happy that he's here now, here, and he'll wake me up from this nightmare.
I wrap my arms around him and bury my head against his chest. He smells like him, like home. My voice is muffled against the soft fabric of his shirt.
"I was going nuts when you weren't there this morning, Angel. I thought something had happened to you and now. now this."
Like he did last night, Angel first kisses my forehead, then, lying a cold finger under my chin and lifting my head up, he kisses my nose and finally my mouth.
He smiles and in that moment I sense that something's off. Something's not quite right about him. His voice is very soft and silky as he whispers, "Yes, and now this. Come," he grabs my hands and pulls me up and my knees buckle a bit but he doesn't seem to notice.
Both of us are standing now in front of the room and I look down at my shoes. I never want to enter that room again.
"Look," Angel whispers, and I can't help but think that he sounds like a kid who's just built a gigantic sand castle, "Do you see the beauty of it?"
I jerk back but he grips my arms and doesn't let go. He smiles again and now there's now talking around it- that smile's feral. I begin to tremble, slowly, the truth beginning to sink in, but I don't understand- I don't want to understand, this is Angel! Angel, the vampire with a soul who'd never harm a fly- Angel. But still, I don't say anything; all I do is to stare at his face and his eyes that have always kept me in their thrall with their warmth. Now they're dark and- dead, the voice in my head shrieks gleefully, dead! Dead like that couple that's rotting away in your room even now.
"The- beauty-" I stumble over that word; my voice croaks and it hurts to speak. Everything's starting to hurt and I lick my dry lips but only makes it worse. "The beauty? Angel, what is up with you? Are you- are you alright?"
"Oh yeah, I'm alright, don't worry, lover," Angel seems to spit that word out and I flinch. His grip on my arms gets stronger and I squirm a little. He mocks me, "I thought you'd be happy about my gift! After all that trouble I went through to kill the both of them- I even left them their delicious, red blood! All as a gift from me to you, Buff, to always remind you of," his voice drops to a whisper, "last night. I have to say, you were good. It's true what they say, you know? Experience makes all the difference. And someone who's had as much experience as you've had."
"You're nuts," I hiss at him, "You're fucking nuts!"
Angel's last words seem to have roused me out of my stupor 'cause now I free myself of his grip with one quick move and lay all my shock and anger into the punch that I deliver straight to his nose. I whip out a stake out of my waistband and raise it.
"Fuck off!" I scream at Angel, whose nose is bleeding quite strongly now, "Fuck off to hell where you belong, you sick bastard!"
I kick out, but he avoids my food and smiles a cruel, nasty smile that I won't forget for as long as I live.
"If that's what you want, lover," he whispers and grins, "Until we meet again, then."
And he's gone. I drop the stake and it clatters to the floor with a wooden and yet hollow sound. I stare at the puddle of vomit I made on the floor, then slowly at my doorstep ask me how the hell I landed myself in this situation.
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 12 - Land of Shame
*"And you're absolutely sure that *this*," Buffy made a sweeping gesture around her, "will help us to catch the latest nasty?"
Thomas couldn't suppress a sigh as he looked around the room himself. It was crowded, and on the stage stood a rather Fyarl demon butchering 'We Can Work It Out' in his own language.
"No, I'm not sure. A contact of mine got me this address. He said that we should ask the, ah, the Host if we needed help with a special case. I'd say that our current monster of the week qualifies as a special case, don't you think?"
Buffy thought of the two victims brutally murdered and nodded.
"But does it have to be a demon karaoke bar? What kind of a name is 'Caritas' anyway?"*
~~~
The rain has to have stopped sometime during the night, 'cause I wake up with the sun shining fully in my face. I sneeze, open my eyes and blink into the bright room.
The events of the night rush back and I smile at the mental image of Angel's face as he entered me for the first time; the face of someone who's just been granted the biggest wish of his life. Smiling, I turn around, hoping to see him still asleep- I bet he looks just adorable when he sleeps- but find the spot next to me empty.
Weird.
Perhaps he's in the shower? I slowly get up and pad over to the bathroom, but even before I open the door I know that it's empty- except for my breathing, the room is completely silent.
I turn around, surveying the room- it's a total chaos because my bag's fallen off the bed sometime during our activities and spilled its content all over the floor; but Angel's coat is still thrown over the chair where he put it last night; his boots lie in one corner of the room to where I threw them and his shirt's lying half-buried under a pillow. The only thing that's gone are his pants.
Frowning, I take a peek out of the window- it's gotta be almost noon- perhaps he took off when he sensed the sun coming up? But why did he only put his jeans on, and not the rest? Was he in such a hurry? But he could just have drawn the curtains and stayed. I know it's probable futile, but I search the room for a note from him nevertheless- nothing. And I know it's even more futile, but I call out anyway.
"Angel?"
~~~
After a quick shower and no breakfast, I slam the door to the motel room shut and head straight to Angel's apartment. I mean, it's no biggie, waking up the morning after to find your boy-toy gone- but Angel's no boy-toy, he's my boyfriend. I said it. Angel's my boyfriend and even if he's got that pesky skin condition of his, he can write, can't he? A note or something like that would have been nice. Still, I'm not mad at him, though that would classify as my normal reaction in a situation like that. No, my present feeling could be described as 'concerned', I guess- 'cause I know Angel, at least a little bit and he's definitely not the wham, bam, thank you m'am type. Not Angel.
My feeling of concern increases even more as I reach his apartment and find that the door's wide open.
"Angel?" I almost scream his name, stepping into the room. It's dark and in the moment before switching on the light, I have a vision of him coming out of his bedroom, all groggy and with his hair tousled from sleeping, and he smiles and kisses me and apologizes for leaving- the light illuminates the apartment and the sick feeling in my stomach doesn't settle in because I'm hungry.
The room's completely empty of any of Angel's stuff.
~~~
How I found the way back to my motel will always stay a mystery to me, because I sure as hell don't remember me walking back there. I apparently found the way alright 'cause I suddenly find myself staring at my door. I slowly fish the key out of my pocket and open it. The room smells of wet clothes and sex- not really a pleasant mix, especially now when the post- coital-afterglow bubble has burst. I open the window and sit slowly on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.
What the hell is going on?
I mean- he can't- Angel can't just disappear, can he? Of course he can't, that's impossible, and yet there's no trace of him but his clothes lying strewn around in this room. If not for them, I could think that I dreamed the whole thing and that he never existed- that's what his apartment says after all. Sure, the bed and the bookshelves, all that stuff's still there, but everything else- his books, his clothes, even the damn mug he used to drink blood from are gone. Poof.
Gone. Gone, gone, gonefuckinggone.
This is so not happening.
Groaning, I bury my face in my hands and suppress the desire to destroy something.
I must have fallen asleep again, 'cause when I open my eyes it's dark outside and I lie curled up on the bed- that bed which holds good memories of last night but that I've grown to despise in an amazingly short time. I get up and search the room for some stakes. Screw Angel, I tell myself, he's gone, so what? Just 'cause one vamp disappears without a trace doesn't mean that the rest of them will do the same. I'm going to kill a few and then I'll feel better. Let off some steam. Right.
And perhaps, just perhaps, I'll find Angel, improbable as that is.
I wander slowly through the graveyards, not even attempting to sense vampires- they'll come on their own. It's surely just my imagination, but it's damn cold tonight and I wrap my arms around myself as I cross Sunny Rest. If Angel was here now he'd give me his coat. I stop that train of thought before it leaves station- "If"-sentences never lead far after all. He'll show up again. He has to. Perhaps he moved while I was gone and just forgot to tell me. And I could always ask Faith and the others.
Although I really don't want to do that. What I want is to forget that there's another slayer than me. And at the moment I'd rather bite my tongue off than to ask her or the Watch-Man for help.
I shut the gate behind me and cross the street when I hear someone screaming in the distance and shortly after that a voice calling for help. I take off in the direction of the voice and find myself in a dark alley where a couple of vampires have apparently decided to interrupt a couple in whatever they were doing- though the open blouse of the girl is quite an indicator to what that was- to grab a quick bite.
Well, not if I have to say something about that.
"Hey guys!" I call out to draw their attention to me and slowly take out two stakes. I take aim, throw one stake and watch satisfied as it buries itself directly in one vamp's heart- he explodes into dust immediately and that seems to be the sure sign of attack for all the other ones, 'cause they lunge at me all at once.
I smile grimly and throw myself into the fight.
~~~
I feel a bit more like myself again after I stake all of those bastards. The couple even managed to mutter a hasty "thanks" before taking off rather abruptly- which didn't surprise me very much 'cause that's normal. People seem to think I'm more dangerous to them than the vampires. Heh. What a joke. They never run from Superman and he can destroy a car while sneezing. The world's unfair.
Whatever. I don't encounter any more vampires, though I check all of the cemeteries, which is a pity 'cause I'm really all warmed up and itching for a fight now. I pushed all the thoughts of Angel back into a drawer of my mind labeled 'Not worth my attention' and although that strategy usually works just fine, tonight it's failing miserably.
After making a third sweep through Restfield, I give up, a bit unnerved and head back to my motel. Seems there's nothing else to do but to sleep and hope that I won't dream of him. Halfway through the now deserted Main Street I stop suddenly dead in my tracks and concentrate. I could've sworn that there was something lurking in the shadows just a moment ago. but the tingle disappears before I can grasp it and shrugging, I resume my way. I'm so winded up I'd probably stake a cat if it so much as meowed menacingly.
I'm kind of glad when my temporary home's in sight. Yeah, I know I slept half of the day away, but I'm still tired- not really in my body, but in my mind, if that makes sense. But sleeping is the perfect opportunity not to think. I open the door, switch on the lights and jerk my head up at the same moment 'cause something's not right.
And freeze.
This isn't real, a panicked voice in my head babbles, this ain't real, Buffy, that's a class A nightmare and c'mon Buffy, wake up, wake up.
I slowly take a step into the room and clasp my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. There, on the bed- on my fucking bed- lies the couple I saved earlier tonight.
Naked.
Dead.
I can see that guy's face- his expression is. his eyes are closed and his head stands in a weird angle to the rest of his body- his neck's broken, the little voice whispers in my head. Broken like a child's toy, somebody was careless here. he's lying half atop of the girl, his arms wrapped around her, his twisted head resting on her naked breast. The girl's eyes are shut, too and her neck's also broken, my registers absentmindedly.
The look like two lovers resting after making love. Like two lovers basking in the afterglow. Except that they're broken and they're dead and they'll never make out in dark alleys again.
A breath hitches in my throat and although I haven't eaten anything today my stomach churns. I take a stumbling step back, then another out of the room and then I trip, fall flat on my butt, roll somehow over and vomit.
My eyes are wide open but unseeing as I empty the meager contents of my stomach on the street and though soon I'm only coughing, when I think that the both of them will never open their eyes again, I begin to retch again. My stomach and my throat start to hurt, but I can't help it- I half sit, half lie there on the concrete floor in front of my motel room's door and fuck it, that situation's just too screwed up for words.
I'm still retching when there's suddenly a cool hand stroking over my back and gently taking my hair out of my face and putting it into a ponytail.
"Sssh." a soft voice says, "It's alright, Buffy, everything's alright now."
Sweet nonsense that's comforting nevertheless and when I finally look up from the floor after what seems like a very long time, I stare into Angel's dark eyes.
"Here." He holds out a wet cloth to me and I accept it gratefully and wipe my face and mouth with it. I'm cold now, and numb, and I know that I should wonder why he's turned up apparently out of thin air, but I don't. I'm just happy that he's here now, here, and he'll wake me up from this nightmare.
I wrap my arms around him and bury my head against his chest. He smells like him, like home. My voice is muffled against the soft fabric of his shirt.
"I was going nuts when you weren't there this morning, Angel. I thought something had happened to you and now. now this."
Like he did last night, Angel first kisses my forehead, then, lying a cold finger under my chin and lifting my head up, he kisses my nose and finally my mouth.
He smiles and in that moment I sense that something's off. Something's not quite right about him. His voice is very soft and silky as he whispers, "Yes, and now this. Come," he grabs my hands and pulls me up and my knees buckle a bit but he doesn't seem to notice.
Both of us are standing now in front of the room and I look down at my shoes. I never want to enter that room again.
"Look," Angel whispers, and I can't help but think that he sounds like a kid who's just built a gigantic sand castle, "Do you see the beauty of it?"
I jerk back but he grips my arms and doesn't let go. He smiles again and now there's now talking around it- that smile's feral. I begin to tremble, slowly, the truth beginning to sink in, but I don't understand- I don't want to understand, this is Angel! Angel, the vampire with a soul who'd never harm a fly- Angel. But still, I don't say anything; all I do is to stare at his face and his eyes that have always kept me in their thrall with their warmth. Now they're dark and- dead, the voice in my head shrieks gleefully, dead! Dead like that couple that's rotting away in your room even now.
"The- beauty-" I stumble over that word; my voice croaks and it hurts to speak. Everything's starting to hurt and I lick my dry lips but only makes it worse. "The beauty? Angel, what is up with you? Are you- are you alright?"
"Oh yeah, I'm alright, don't worry, lover," Angel seems to spit that word out and I flinch. His grip on my arms gets stronger and I squirm a little. He mocks me, "I thought you'd be happy about my gift! After all that trouble I went through to kill the both of them- I even left them their delicious, red blood! All as a gift from me to you, Buff, to always remind you of," his voice drops to a whisper, "last night. I have to say, you were good. It's true what they say, you know? Experience makes all the difference. And someone who's had as much experience as you've had."
"You're nuts," I hiss at him, "You're fucking nuts!"
Angel's last words seem to have roused me out of my stupor 'cause now I free myself of his grip with one quick move and lay all my shock and anger into the punch that I deliver straight to his nose. I whip out a stake out of my waistband and raise it.
"Fuck off!" I scream at Angel, whose nose is bleeding quite strongly now, "Fuck off to hell where you belong, you sick bastard!"
I kick out, but he avoids my food and smiles a cruel, nasty smile that I won't forget for as long as I live.
"If that's what you want, lover," he whispers and grins, "Until we meet again, then."
And he's gone. I drop the stake and it clatters to the floor with a wooden and yet hollow sound. I stare at the puddle of vomit I made on the floor, then slowly at my doorstep ask me how the hell I landed myself in this situation.