------------------The Bad and the Hopeless chapter 7
Disclaimer: Y'all know by now that Angel&co belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc.
Author's note: Okay, so a bit of Liamy-ness for this chapter, I was just wondering, what really goes on inside the head of a twenty-one year old man from the eighteenth century
that has just been captured by vampires wishing to carry out a apocolypse-inducing ritual?
Dedication: To Jess, thanks for standing up for me in the face of nasty reviewers! Cheers, babe.-----------------
It was a cold night. Colder than usual for L.A, but then Liam was not to know the standard temperatures, it was, to him, rather hot.
He was standing in the middle of a cemetery, surrounded by gravestones, some of which's times his world had not experienced yet.
His arms were bound with rope, and one of the demons who had smuggled him away from the Celtic Cross was watching him, guarding him out of one corner of his
dead eye. The other two were piling wood onto a ring that they had made on the ground. A long pole rose from the woodpile, and Liam was forced to be reminded of the witch burnings he had witnessed in the streets of Galway.
Was he going to be burned? he wondered, but his drink-addled mind could not place the fear. Would Angel, his vampire counterpart, save him?
Or, more importantly, why did Spike not save him earlier, when he was supposed to be his friend? Liam kicked the ground, causing the guard to start. The vampire glared at him, then settled down to watch his companions build the fire.
Friends! What were friends to Liam? Friends were your mates, who went drinking with you, offered you a pretty wench then stole her from you. Friends, no. They were no better than family.
Family made Liam think of little Kathy. Barely out of babies' petticoats, but she stuck to him like a limpet to the shore. He thought for a moment, how lucky he really was. He had Kathy, and his mother, who loved him
and mollycoddled him and gave him money for whisky though in her old mind she believed that he would give it to the poor. There were the other children, of course, his other siblings, and he shuddered to think that he could not remember their names.
Had he really been here that long? what was stopping him demanding that Angel send him back straight away? he supposed it was his father. His father, who was always threatening to throw him out, cast him out onto the streets like old meat. He was a useless
time-waster in his father's eyes, a bairn that should have been thrown into the sea as soon as he was born. A waste of space, that's what he was. Could have had a good job by the time he was seventeen, but no. Could have been a clergyman, or followed in his father's footsteps.
He saw those cold eyes now, tormenting him. Those eyes which should have been kind and forgiving, not glinting with malice. No, family meant nothing to him. Not anymore, not here in America, in the 2st century. he could do what he liked. Why go home, when he could stay here and be loved, be valued.
A hand in front of his face waved and brought him back to the real world, the cold night and the cemetery.
"Was afraid you'd dropped off." A demonic face swam before him. The voice was hard and english.
"Wouldn't want him to miss the fireworks, would we, boys?" The other two vampires sniggered.
"Now, you listen to me, human." the voice dropped low as he snarled. "You're going to be good, and not talk while we perform the spell. otherwise....." he glanced round at his friends. "You're dinnr. Got it?"
Liam nodded. he couldn't for the life of him understand why they had not simply gagged him, but he had been told to be quiet, and he'd be damned if he would be anything but.
**********************
Angel picked up the long, broad sword. "It's simple, then. I go after him."
"Well, no," began Wesley, but Spike cut him off. "I want to come."
Angel shrugged. "Fine. I don't even want to talk to you, Spike. You just imagine those bruises you'll get when you become corporeal, and join the party."
Spike raised a ghostly eyebrow. His sire was clearly ticked. he hadn't meant for the vamps to get away with Liam, but he couldn't understand why he had panicked so much he couldn't fight back. He had, after all, socked that robot thing that had Gunn once. He slipped off the table and followed Angel as he came to the grim realisation that he shouldn't have been the one to look after their human charge.
As they walked along the street, at a demon's pace, Spike turned to the vampire. "Um.. Peaches? How exactly are we going to find the little nipper?"
"You tell me," Angel growled. "I can't believe you didn't follow him. You really are the worst creature of the night I've ever met."
Angel glanced round, expecting a witty comeback but his childe was silent.
"Anyway, I think we should check the demon bar. There could be others who saw it."
Spike still said nothing, but nodded his head.
They carried on until they reached the Celtic Cross, and stepped inside. Twenty demonic heads turned to face them. Several eyed Angel with disgust.
Two Arak Demons stood on the stage, singing 'I will survive'.
Spike hummed along to the tune as he and Angel walked across the room to the counter.
"How can I help?" asked the demon behind the bar cheerfully, though he was eyeing the hilt of Angel's sword under his duster.
Angel put his fist on the table and leaned over. "Three vampires kidnapped a friend of mine earlier tonight. I want to know where they went."
The barman shrank back. "I don't know a thing about your friend," he stuttered. Angel had that effect on people.
"You saw them, though. You saw them leave. Any idea where they went? Who could we talk to that would know? And you better tell me," he added as an afterthought, "Because I'm kinda angry."
"Alright, keep your fangs on." the barman took a deep breath, though of course he didn't need to. "That guy, over there." he jabbed his thumb at the corner of the room where a vampire sat at a table in the shadows. "He came in with them. They looked pretty angry with him to tell you the truth."
Angel slid himself off the bar. "Thanks."
They walked over to the single table. The vampire looked up, and made a run for it, knocking over the table in an attempt to get out. he disappeared out of the back door, but Angel and Spike were on his heels.
Three minutes later, he was lying at Angel's feet. Spike, who had his eyes closed and was concentrating hard, pinned him to the ground.
"I want to know where your three friends are, Zeke." Angel said grimly. "I think you're going to tell me where they went with the human."
Zeke, for that was the unfortunate vamp's name, struggled under Spike's unsteady but hard grip. "You.... think I'm going to tell you? I don't think so. I bet you want a piece of him yourself, right? Well, this one's special, and you're not going anywhere near him. They need him."
Angel rewarded his speech with a rough punch on the jaw. "So, you're not going to tell me where they are? That's not very good, is it?"
Zeke's eyes bulged as Angel took a small glass bottle out of his pocket. Spike grinned. "Things aren't looking so good for you, mate."
Angel uncorked the bottle carefully. "Holy water," he observed quietly. "It would be interesting to see how quickly your fingers burn off, wouldn't it, Spike?"
Spike said nothing. He was impressed.
Zeke shuddered. "You wouldn't..."
"And if you've heard of me at all, you know I'll do it." Angel finished, threateningly.
"Okay.... don't hurt me. they've taken him to the cemetery to raise some old friend. A demon that can, and will destroy the world."
"An apocalypse?" Angel asked, his face returning to its less vampiric form.
"What else?" said Spike, shaking his head at the irony.
"I know because I was here the last time it was raised. It was sent back by some slayer, one hundred and fifty years ago. I lived all those years."
Angel rolled his eyes, and Spike raised his eyebrow once more. but Zeke took every oppertunity. He wrenched himself out of Spike's flimsy grip.
"And I think I'll live a few more!" he cried, scrambling up. Angel grabbed him. "Any reason to keep this one?" he asked Spike.
He didn't wait for an answer, but plunged the stake he held firmly into Zeke's chest.
Wiping dust off his outfit, Angel beckoned to Spike. "to the cemetery we go, then."
Spike was still in awe of the older vampire's performance back there. had he enjoyed getting in touch with his inner demon? Spike wondered.
Had he relished at being able to torture something? play his little mind games with it?
"Spike?"
"Huh?" he answered.
"Pay attention. We've got to get there before they awaken this thing. If we don't.... I don't know why they need Liam, Spike, but the phrase human sacrifice springs to mind."
Spike understood. he got up and followed his sire to the cemetery.
*********************
Liam watched wordlessly as the vampires picked him up and carried him, easily, onto the wood. They tied him to the stake. The leader, who's name appeared to be Throttle, loomed before him.
"Now, Liam," he said, and Liam wondered fleetingly how the demon knew his name, "We want you to be a good boy and not scream when we burn you. Otherwise, I will be forced to make yur death excruciatingly painful."
Liam nodded. he had learnt, now, that this was the best course of action. The vampires were going to kill him, he knew that much, and when they had done they were going to take Aserya out for dinner. At least, that is what he thought he had picked out from their conversation.
Throttle stepped over the pyre, carrying a flaming torch. This is it, thought Liam. Goodbye, Celtic Cross. So long, Harrison Ford and daytime television. Goodbye, Kathy. This is the end.
He never ended his last thoughts. Angel and Spike, like two avenging superheroes, tore through the gravestones to where he was propped. Angel swung his sword and took off Throttle's head, who's body promptly dropped the torch onto the wood and started to burn. Far from attacking Liam's saviours, the two other vampires scampered away.
Angel pulled him from the stake and dragged him away from the flames. "Are you okay?" he asked. Liam looked at him. "I'm fine," he said shakily. "What happened?"
Liam was a little unsure on his feet, but they managed to get away from the cemetery before the fire brigade showed up.
"Can we go back to-"
Liam didn't even finish his sentence before both vampires replied: "No."
Liam grinned. "I was going to say, can we go back to Wolfram and Hart? I think I've had my share of drinking for this century."
------------------------I will gladly pay you tuesday for some feedback today....
Oh wait, today IS Tuesday. Well, I want feedback anyway. And make sure you actually read my story before reviewing... not that I'm saying any names *cough*
Next up: Liam and Winifred make such a cute couple, don't you think?
Avaducia,
~*Elionwy*~ ------------------------------
Disclaimer: Y'all know by now that Angel&co belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc.
Author's note: Okay, so a bit of Liamy-ness for this chapter, I was just wondering, what really goes on inside the head of a twenty-one year old man from the eighteenth century
that has just been captured by vampires wishing to carry out a apocolypse-inducing ritual?
Dedication: To Jess, thanks for standing up for me in the face of nasty reviewers! Cheers, babe.-----------------
It was a cold night. Colder than usual for L.A, but then Liam was not to know the standard temperatures, it was, to him, rather hot.
He was standing in the middle of a cemetery, surrounded by gravestones, some of which's times his world had not experienced yet.
His arms were bound with rope, and one of the demons who had smuggled him away from the Celtic Cross was watching him, guarding him out of one corner of his
dead eye. The other two were piling wood onto a ring that they had made on the ground. A long pole rose from the woodpile, and Liam was forced to be reminded of the witch burnings he had witnessed in the streets of Galway.
Was he going to be burned? he wondered, but his drink-addled mind could not place the fear. Would Angel, his vampire counterpart, save him?
Or, more importantly, why did Spike not save him earlier, when he was supposed to be his friend? Liam kicked the ground, causing the guard to start. The vampire glared at him, then settled down to watch his companions build the fire.
Friends! What were friends to Liam? Friends were your mates, who went drinking with you, offered you a pretty wench then stole her from you. Friends, no. They were no better than family.
Family made Liam think of little Kathy. Barely out of babies' petticoats, but she stuck to him like a limpet to the shore. He thought for a moment, how lucky he really was. He had Kathy, and his mother, who loved him
and mollycoddled him and gave him money for whisky though in her old mind she believed that he would give it to the poor. There were the other children, of course, his other siblings, and he shuddered to think that he could not remember their names.
Had he really been here that long? what was stopping him demanding that Angel send him back straight away? he supposed it was his father. His father, who was always threatening to throw him out, cast him out onto the streets like old meat. He was a useless
time-waster in his father's eyes, a bairn that should have been thrown into the sea as soon as he was born. A waste of space, that's what he was. Could have had a good job by the time he was seventeen, but no. Could have been a clergyman, or followed in his father's footsteps.
He saw those cold eyes now, tormenting him. Those eyes which should have been kind and forgiving, not glinting with malice. No, family meant nothing to him. Not anymore, not here in America, in the 2st century. he could do what he liked. Why go home, when he could stay here and be loved, be valued.
A hand in front of his face waved and brought him back to the real world, the cold night and the cemetery.
"Was afraid you'd dropped off." A demonic face swam before him. The voice was hard and english.
"Wouldn't want him to miss the fireworks, would we, boys?" The other two vampires sniggered.
"Now, you listen to me, human." the voice dropped low as he snarled. "You're going to be good, and not talk while we perform the spell. otherwise....." he glanced round at his friends. "You're dinnr. Got it?"
Liam nodded. he couldn't for the life of him understand why they had not simply gagged him, but he had been told to be quiet, and he'd be damned if he would be anything but.
**********************
Angel picked up the long, broad sword. "It's simple, then. I go after him."
"Well, no," began Wesley, but Spike cut him off. "I want to come."
Angel shrugged. "Fine. I don't even want to talk to you, Spike. You just imagine those bruises you'll get when you become corporeal, and join the party."
Spike raised a ghostly eyebrow. His sire was clearly ticked. he hadn't meant for the vamps to get away with Liam, but he couldn't understand why he had panicked so much he couldn't fight back. He had, after all, socked that robot thing that had Gunn once. He slipped off the table and followed Angel as he came to the grim realisation that he shouldn't have been the one to look after their human charge.
As they walked along the street, at a demon's pace, Spike turned to the vampire. "Um.. Peaches? How exactly are we going to find the little nipper?"
"You tell me," Angel growled. "I can't believe you didn't follow him. You really are the worst creature of the night I've ever met."
Angel glanced round, expecting a witty comeback but his childe was silent.
"Anyway, I think we should check the demon bar. There could be others who saw it."
Spike still said nothing, but nodded his head.
They carried on until they reached the Celtic Cross, and stepped inside. Twenty demonic heads turned to face them. Several eyed Angel with disgust.
Two Arak Demons stood on the stage, singing 'I will survive'.
Spike hummed along to the tune as he and Angel walked across the room to the counter.
"How can I help?" asked the demon behind the bar cheerfully, though he was eyeing the hilt of Angel's sword under his duster.
Angel put his fist on the table and leaned over. "Three vampires kidnapped a friend of mine earlier tonight. I want to know where they went."
The barman shrank back. "I don't know a thing about your friend," he stuttered. Angel had that effect on people.
"You saw them, though. You saw them leave. Any idea where they went? Who could we talk to that would know? And you better tell me," he added as an afterthought, "Because I'm kinda angry."
"Alright, keep your fangs on." the barman took a deep breath, though of course he didn't need to. "That guy, over there." he jabbed his thumb at the corner of the room where a vampire sat at a table in the shadows. "He came in with them. They looked pretty angry with him to tell you the truth."
Angel slid himself off the bar. "Thanks."
They walked over to the single table. The vampire looked up, and made a run for it, knocking over the table in an attempt to get out. he disappeared out of the back door, but Angel and Spike were on his heels.
Three minutes later, he was lying at Angel's feet. Spike, who had his eyes closed and was concentrating hard, pinned him to the ground.
"I want to know where your three friends are, Zeke." Angel said grimly. "I think you're going to tell me where they went with the human."
Zeke, for that was the unfortunate vamp's name, struggled under Spike's unsteady but hard grip. "You.... think I'm going to tell you? I don't think so. I bet you want a piece of him yourself, right? Well, this one's special, and you're not going anywhere near him. They need him."
Angel rewarded his speech with a rough punch on the jaw. "So, you're not going to tell me where they are? That's not very good, is it?"
Zeke's eyes bulged as Angel took a small glass bottle out of his pocket. Spike grinned. "Things aren't looking so good for you, mate."
Angel uncorked the bottle carefully. "Holy water," he observed quietly. "It would be interesting to see how quickly your fingers burn off, wouldn't it, Spike?"
Spike said nothing. He was impressed.
Zeke shuddered. "You wouldn't..."
"And if you've heard of me at all, you know I'll do it." Angel finished, threateningly.
"Okay.... don't hurt me. they've taken him to the cemetery to raise some old friend. A demon that can, and will destroy the world."
"An apocalypse?" Angel asked, his face returning to its less vampiric form.
"What else?" said Spike, shaking his head at the irony.
"I know because I was here the last time it was raised. It was sent back by some slayer, one hundred and fifty years ago. I lived all those years."
Angel rolled his eyes, and Spike raised his eyebrow once more. but Zeke took every oppertunity. He wrenched himself out of Spike's flimsy grip.
"And I think I'll live a few more!" he cried, scrambling up. Angel grabbed him. "Any reason to keep this one?" he asked Spike.
He didn't wait for an answer, but plunged the stake he held firmly into Zeke's chest.
Wiping dust off his outfit, Angel beckoned to Spike. "to the cemetery we go, then."
Spike was still in awe of the older vampire's performance back there. had he enjoyed getting in touch with his inner demon? Spike wondered.
Had he relished at being able to torture something? play his little mind games with it?
"Spike?"
"Huh?" he answered.
"Pay attention. We've got to get there before they awaken this thing. If we don't.... I don't know why they need Liam, Spike, but the phrase human sacrifice springs to mind."
Spike understood. he got up and followed his sire to the cemetery.
*********************
Liam watched wordlessly as the vampires picked him up and carried him, easily, onto the wood. They tied him to the stake. The leader, who's name appeared to be Throttle, loomed before him.
"Now, Liam," he said, and Liam wondered fleetingly how the demon knew his name, "We want you to be a good boy and not scream when we burn you. Otherwise, I will be forced to make yur death excruciatingly painful."
Liam nodded. he had learnt, now, that this was the best course of action. The vampires were going to kill him, he knew that much, and when they had done they were going to take Aserya out for dinner. At least, that is what he thought he had picked out from their conversation.
Throttle stepped over the pyre, carrying a flaming torch. This is it, thought Liam. Goodbye, Celtic Cross. So long, Harrison Ford and daytime television. Goodbye, Kathy. This is the end.
He never ended his last thoughts. Angel and Spike, like two avenging superheroes, tore through the gravestones to where he was propped. Angel swung his sword and took off Throttle's head, who's body promptly dropped the torch onto the wood and started to burn. Far from attacking Liam's saviours, the two other vampires scampered away.
Angel pulled him from the stake and dragged him away from the flames. "Are you okay?" he asked. Liam looked at him. "I'm fine," he said shakily. "What happened?"
Liam was a little unsure on his feet, but they managed to get away from the cemetery before the fire brigade showed up.
"Can we go back to-"
Liam didn't even finish his sentence before both vampires replied: "No."
Liam grinned. "I was going to say, can we go back to Wolfram and Hart? I think I've had my share of drinking for this century."
------------------------I will gladly pay you tuesday for some feedback today....
Oh wait, today IS Tuesday. Well, I want feedback anyway. And make sure you actually read my story before reviewing... not that I'm saying any names *cough*
Next up: Liam and Winifred make such a cute couple, don't you think?
Avaducia,
~*Elionwy*~ ------------------------------