…MEMORY

Hamilton throws Angel
across the room
for what must be
the fifth time.

His body meets
with the concrete steps.

Pain shoots through
Angel's limbs
then numbs to a
dull throb.

"Let me say this
as clearly as I can.
You cannot beat me.
I am part of them
The Wolf,
The Ram,
and The Hart.
Their strength flows
through my veins.
My blood is filled
with their ancient power,"
Hamilton enunciates
condescendingly.

Blood.

Power.

The words give
Angel an idea.

"Can you pick
the one word
you probably
shouldn't have said,"
he says.

An insolent smirk
spreads across the
contours of
Angel's face,
before he
transforms he
features into
his vampire visage.

The demon is
out to play,
and it is hungry.

He latches his
elongated
fangs on to
Hamilton's jugular.

His blood
is rich,
red,
and radiates
power.

Angel takes it
into himself,
until Hamilton
pulls his head away.

An irate
gray suited lawyer
tries to thrust
Angel to the
other side of the
room again
but this time
he fails.

Angel uses
the force pushing
against him
to revolve
in the air.

He lands
gracefully;
wiping a remnant
of blood from his lip
and shakes
his vampire façade
away leaving
only his angelic
face behind.

"You really are full of it.
What was it you where
saying about ancient power?"

They trade punches.
Angel has weakened
Hamilton considerably,
even so
Hamilton still
manages to seize
Angel's throat.
His hands crushing
his windpipe with
inhuman strength.

Hamilton gloats,
"You don't really think
you're going to win
this do you?
You don't stand a chance.
We are legion.
We are forever."

Angel wrenches
his neck from
Hamilton's grip.

"I guess forever
just got a hell
of a lot shorter,"
Angel grunts triumphantly.

He annihilates Hamilton
with a punch
so severe it
snaps his neck
with a sickening crack.

Hamilton's body falls
to the ground.

"Is he dead?"

Angel looks up
from the body
and comes
face to face
with his son.

"Yeah, he's dead."
Angel answers.

Suddenly,
the foundation
beneath their feet
begins to tremble.

Windows
start to crack
making the sound
of tinkling bells.

The LA branch of
Wolfram and Hart
is collapsing.

"That isn't good is it?"
Connor asks with hesitation.

"Wolfram and Hart.
Looks like they're
taking the gloves off."

As Angel finishes speaking
the walls begin to shift.

"What do we do?"

Connor doesn't sound
worried at all.
he sounds ready
to jump into
the fight to
save the world.

But that's not
what Angel wants
for him.

That's not what
Angel gave his
son up for.

"You go home."

"Huh?"
Connor sounds in confusion.

"This is my fight,"
he replies forcefully.

"That's some serious macho…"

Angel's son never
get to finish his
sentence
before a large chunk
of ceiling smacks
him in the back
leaving him dazed.

Fear creeps up
Angel's throat.

A concrete
support beam
crashes with abandon
to the lobby floor.

"Go home now."

Connor stares at him in shock.

"They'll destroy you."

His son's voice is
a strange combination
of admiration
and sadness.

Perhaps Connor loves
his father after all.

Angel catches
the boy's eye
with his own,

"Not as long as you're
okay they can't.
Go."

Perhaps Angel
will never see
his son again.