The Mirror Never Lies
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, and all too soon they will not belong to anyone anymore.
Rating: PG
Summary: Drabble. Takes place after S5 Time Bomb. References to S5 Origin, and all of Season Three
*****
The mirror never lies.
Unless, of course, when it reflects a lie.
****
He stands before the glass, staring intently at his image. It is all wrong. Something is missing.
Tentatively he raises his hand and touches his throat. He wonders what the scar looked like. If he will wake up tomorrow to find it has returned. He wonders what Angel would say to see the badge of his betrayal.
He wonders how Angel can work beside him and pretend it did not happen.
He wonders if he will be able to look Angel in the eye tomorrow.
And all the tomorrows.
****
She stands in front of the glass, her head cocked. The image interests her, but only in passing. There is not much this world has to offer that can hold her interest for very long.
She supposes what makes the reflection interesting is the insight it offers into the shell she inhabits. The one known as woman. The woman who was called Fred.
But the shell by itself is not very interesting. No more than a room would find its walls interesting.
She turns away from the mirror. She has other things to do.
****
He gazes at the man in the mirror. Suit, tie, briefcase. Up and coming young man. Enterprising, brilliant lawyer.
Murderer.
The suit was always a lie, but the sight of it never troubled him before. Not until now. Now that he finally knows the price he paid for that lie.
But it is his lie, bought and paid for. So he will hold onto it.
Because it is all he has left.
****
There is no reflection in the mirror. He does not exist.
But that is a lie, because he does exist. He is part of this world. He has suffered for this world. He has sacrificed his son and walked away from the only person who ever made him feel happy. He has given up everything.
And there is nothing left. Nothing.
So maybe, he muses, the empty glass is right, after all.
Because how can nothing be reflected in a mirror?
*****
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, and all too soon they will not belong to anyone anymore.
Rating: PG
Summary: Drabble. Takes place after S5 Time Bomb. References to S5 Origin, and all of Season Three
*****
The mirror never lies.
Unless, of course, when it reflects a lie.
****
He stands before the glass, staring intently at his image. It is all wrong. Something is missing.
Tentatively he raises his hand and touches his throat. He wonders what the scar looked like. If he will wake up tomorrow to find it has returned. He wonders what Angel would say to see the badge of his betrayal.
He wonders how Angel can work beside him and pretend it did not happen.
He wonders if he will be able to look Angel in the eye tomorrow.
And all the tomorrows.
****
She stands in front of the glass, her head cocked. The image interests her, but only in passing. There is not much this world has to offer that can hold her interest for very long.
She supposes what makes the reflection interesting is the insight it offers into the shell she inhabits. The one known as woman. The woman who was called Fred.
But the shell by itself is not very interesting. No more than a room would find its walls interesting.
She turns away from the mirror. She has other things to do.
****
He gazes at the man in the mirror. Suit, tie, briefcase. Up and coming young man. Enterprising, brilliant lawyer.
Murderer.
The suit was always a lie, but the sight of it never troubled him before. Not until now. Now that he finally knows the price he paid for that lie.
But it is his lie, bought and paid for. So he will hold onto it.
Because it is all he has left.
****
There is no reflection in the mirror. He does not exist.
But that is a lie, because he does exist. He is part of this world. He has suffered for this world. He has sacrificed his son and walked away from the only person who ever made him feel happy. He has given up everything.
And there is nothing left. Nothing.
So maybe, he muses, the empty glass is right, after all.
Because how can nothing be reflected in a mirror?
*****