Title: The View
Author: Amandab9aol.com
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't really have to be writing fanfic about it, now would I?
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: From "Hero" (season 1) through "Your Welcome" (season 5)
Requests: Cordelia and Angel included. Sadly, there really isn't much Angel in this story. I tried but there somehow wasn't much for Angel to do here.
Restrictions: None.
Author's Note 1: Takes place at the very end of Hero.
Author's Note 2: Written for giglibad as part of the 'Doyleathon' hosted by xdejection.
Nothing.
Nothing for as far as Doyle can see. Nothing but white extending all around him. The eerie silence is like nothing he has ever experienced before. It is almost unsettling.
He looks down at himself. Whole and unsacred, it doesn't look like he had just felt his flesh burning. Carefully, with a slightly shaking hand, Doyle feels around his face. It is smooth and sweaty. No signs of the damage that just happened. Which Doyle finds a little odd.
"Well, hello."
Doyle turns around towards the sound of the voice.
A short, stout green demon stands in front of him, smiling a little nervously. His yellow eyes look over Doyle for a moment, giving him enough time to practically hear Cordelia saying the yellow and green totally clash.
"Uh, hi."
The demon holds out a pudgy hand. "Name's Steve."
"Doyle," he answers, feeling a little ridiculous bending down to shake someone's hand in less than nowhere, only moments after facing his death.
At least the pain is gone.
"Oh, I know who you are. The Powers sent me to meet you."
"The Powers? Meet me? I think you're mistaken, buddy. See, they were probably expecting my pal Angel. He's the one the Powers would be interested in meeting."
"No, no. They said Doyle, all right. I don't see any vampire who has done that much harm, even one with a soul, ever getting into Heaven."
Doyle feels like he's swaying on his feet. "Heaven?" he repeats, feeling dazed.
Steve grins. "Its kind of a kick in the ass, isn't it? I mean, you were alive a minute ago. Living a mostly a moral life. I felt the same way when I first came here."
"Here. In... heaven?"
"Now you're getting it." Steve jerks a fat thumb in one direction that the pure white extends towards. "What do you say we hit the town while I catch you up on everything? We could literately stay here forever, but I think that would get pretty boring."
Doyle still only sees white, doubts there will ever be much of anything else, but follows Steve. He notices for the first time that Steve isn't wearing any shoes. His leathery, green feet make a slightly annoying sound as they pad on the floor that Doyle can't feel. If it weren't for the sound, Doyle would swear they are just floating in a vacuum.
"So tell me about this place." Doyle is almost surprised at how calm his voice sounds as it bounces back up to meet him, back he is already feeling soothed. His death isn't really bothering him as much as he would have expected. It is something about this place...
"What's there to tell? I've been here for about four years, myself. That is, four years your time."
"My time?"
"Yeah, the type you kept while you lived on earth. We don't have any time here."
"Bet the watch makers hate this place."
Steve snorts, Doyle can hear the noise from his place behind Steve, even though he knew it was a dumb joke as it said it. Maybe that is what heaven is all about. People laughing at your dumb jokes.
"Watch business doesn't love us, no. Other businesses do far better here."
Doyle hasn't seen any businesses yet. Honestly, he hasn't seen anything but the pure white and Steve since he has arrived.
Just when he begins to think that there really is nothing more than the never-ending white, Doyle spots something metallic and gleaming in the distance. As they walk closer, Doyle recognizes it as an elevator. It seems to just be hanging there. Out of all the things he had immediately begun to miss from life, elevators probably wouldn't have been too high on the list. Doyle peers a little strangely but Steve steps right into it.
"Coming?"
Doyle doesn't see any other option but following. Sticking around in a vacuum of white must have its up side, but Doyle can't seem to find it.
As soon as he steps in, the metal doors close. Steve presses a button and Doyle can feel the elevator vibrate beneath him.
There is soft music playing. Faint and just instrumental, it is typical for what he would associate with annoying elevator music. So this place even as the annoying details down, huh?
When the doors open, to what could have been any little city, Doyle is almost frozen in surprise. The street is covered with demons of all shapes and sizes. Seeing them walk around, seemingly happy enough, is a stark contrast from where he had previously been.
Doyle follows Steve's tilted head towards the small building across from him. There is a small, wooden sign above it proclaiming Mikey's Pub. Doyle smiles for the first time since he died.
Following Steve, Doyle heads to the pub. The thick, wooden door creaks as it opens, emitting them into a crowded room filled with the familiar smell of beer.
"What are you drinking?" Steve asks.
"Something strong."
"Fair enough."
Doyle finds a scudded table away from the bar. He pulls himself into the booth while Steve orders the drinks. Leans back against the red headrest, closes his eyes and watches the colors whirl across his eyelids. Oddly, they seem to almost take the shape of a very female face. With dark eyes and dark hair, and now blue lips. And that shocked look because she wasn't expecting a kiss. Wasn't expecting to watch him die directly after it.
His eyes fly open again to find Steve has returned with two dark beers. His green hands are clutching his beer as his eyes watch Doyle.
Taking a beer with a mostly steady hand, Doyle meets Steve's eyes. "Tell me about this place."
Steve takes a thoughtful sip. "What is there to tell? Let's see, it's a demon heaven. But you already know that."
"Demons only. Isn't that a little..." Doyle searches for the word. 'Segregated' comes to mind first, but he settles with, "exclusive?"
"Well, not strictly demons. But magical, not fully human, creatures. It has been found to be easier than throwing humans into the mix. When humans have never even heard of our kinds, they tend to create more trouble than its worth. You know humans." Doyle pretends that the speech doesn't remind him of any other organizations he had just witnessed by taking another sip of his drink.
"What about the humans who do know about demons?" he asks while pretending that he isn't thinking about the brown hair, brown eyes, and soft lips.
Steve shrugs. "Never really cared to find out. I haven't personally run across any I could think of, at least. Anyway, what else do you wanna know?"
"Well, how did I get here?"
"Oh, that one is easy! You died."
Doyle finishes his beer with his statement and doesn't feel a thing. Not even a little buzz. He looks down at the empty glass feeling betrayed. Out loud he asks, "How does this place work?"
"Everyone has there own place, like a home. Inside is whatever they want. There is everything here that you could get down there. Same kind of stores that were cluttered all over LA are spread around here. You know those business types. Any chance to expand their market and wallets and they are in." Steve shakes his head at this. "We've all the sports, game rooms, movie theaters, and pool areas. We've even added schools for whatever you wanted to learn and didn't get the chance. But one of the best things, that everyone cares most about, is The View."
Steve leans back and grins like he just said something very important but Doyle is too dumb to realize what it is. "The view?"
"Oh yeah. The View." There is that damn grin again.
All Doyle can think about is a group of women disagreeing on TV. Not that he really ever watched the show. Much.
"Is that it or are you going to tell me what 'The View' means?"
"Everyone up here gets it. Most newbies go crazy over it. They miss the ones they just left so much, you know?"
Doyle wonders if you can kill someone is heaven. Maybe it is frowned down upon?
He stops himself from committing the more likely sin of making another bad joke about how the anticipation killed him. Settling instead for a stony glare, he knows that he can't pull it off as well as Angel could.
"The View? It means you can watch the living."
Silence for a minute as Doyle considers this, before he asks, "What?"
"Surprised? The Vision means you can watch the living. Some of those other heavens won't let you, ya know. They just give you this ultimate happiness stuff and make you pretty much ignore the fact that you left others behind. But not here. Here you can watch those that you left; anytime, anyplace. It works kind of like you're in their head."
"And this isn't the first thing you told me?"
Steve shrugs. "I guess it slipped all three of my minds."
===Amanda===