Disclaimer: No, I'm not this evil...evil, but not this evil. Joss owns 'em.
Author's Notes: Okay, this is therapy fic for IWRY, also involving prophecies, apocalypses and whatever odd things pop into my head...but mostly B/A-ness. The parts are all gonna be first person from different people's points of views. Bad things will happen. This is gonna be very angsty, but I promise, it will all work out in the end!
Teaser: The End of Days is coming to Sunnydale...
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Part Two
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Some say the world will end in fire,
Some in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To ay that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
—Robert Frost (1874-1963)
Angel
She haunted my dreams, my every waking moment. Her smile, her laugh, the gleam of her eyes, the sound of her voice telling me she would never forget…
Doyle and Cordelia were getting annoyed.
"I told you he was in denial," Cordelia muttered to Doyle, thinking I couldn’t hear. I was sitting at my desk, staring at the tea cup that we’d smashed and that was now whole.
"Well he’s not anymore," Doyle replied in a low voice. I sipped the tea cup and tried to get my mind off all the things that hadn’t happened—except I knew they had.
"Doyle!" I called. He was in my office moments later, giving me a concerned look. Like I couldn’t tell. They thought I was going to hurt myself, but that would be missing the point. I had to be there, and be strong, to protect Buffy. That was my only purpose now. To protect people.
Happiness wasn’t even a shadow on my thoughts. I knew it was lost. No point in longing for something you’ll never have.
"Have you heard anything about the ‘End of Days’?" I asked, looking up from my desk. He shook his head, confused.
"Why?"
"The Mohra demon mentioned it," I said, standing up. I walked around the desk and leaned on the side. Cordelia peeked in the door to see what was happening.
"I thought you killed it as soon as it came in," she pointed out.
"Another Mohra demon," I said quickly, my eyes darting around guiltily.
"Another one? What aren’t you tellin’ us Angel?" Doyle asked.
"Nothing, I just forgot to mention that while I was out last night I killed another one."
They didn’t look convinced. I don’t suppose I was very convincing.
"Just see if you can find anything about it."
"Will do." Doyle started out of my office and paused at the door. The phone rang and Cordelia made a face before going to answer it. Doyle hesitated. "Are you all right man? I mean, I know what it’s like to have an ex show up…if you want to talk about it—"
"I don’t," I said quietly. I couldn’t tell him, I couldn’t tell anyone. It would be too hard. Besides, it was my burden to carry, forever.
"Okay then, I just thought I’d—" I gave him a look and he broke off, nodding. "Right. End of Days. Sounds cheery."
"Uh, Angel? It’s Giles," Cordelia said, giving me a significant look.
"Giles?" Doyle asked her as I walked back into my office to pick up the phone in there.
"Buffy’s former Watcher. The stuffy one," Cordelia said. I shook my head, hoping she’d put Giles on hold and he wasn’t listening to the whole conversation.
Why would he be calling?
"Hello?" I said, picking up the phone.
"Angel, well…I admit it was a bit of a shock having Cordelia answered the phone, even though I’d been told she was working for you."
"Yeah, it is a little odd," I agreed, sitting down and watching Doyle and Cordelia bicker in the next room. "What were you calling about?"
"Buffy was attacked by a Mohra demon tonight. Before she killed it, it said the ‘End of Days’ was coming. As you obviously knew something about the demons, I thought I would call and see if you could…enlighten us at all as to what that meant," Giles said. My eyes fixed on a knot on wood of the desk.
"Is Buffy all right?" I asked, terror threatening to rip me apart.
"Oh…yes, yes of course! She’s fine," Giles assured me quickly. I settled back into my chair, focusing my mind back on the problem at hand. As long as Buffy was safe…
"I have heard the term mentioned, but I don’t know much about it either. I’ve heard it before, in an old prophecy. Perhaps Svjatopolk, though I wouldn’t give him much creedence."
"No, no, nor would I. But perhaps I will look it up. That’s all you know of it?"
"Well, there have been Apocalypse warnings for years, centering around the turn of the millenium. I’m having my people look for any references," I told him, wondering at myself. "My people"?
"G-good. Thank you then, that’s all I…Buffy didn’t tell me very much about her visit. Was it all right?" he asked, sounding concerned. For which one of us? I wondered, and shook my head at myself. I had killed his lover and tortured him. It was more than enough that he could tolerate me. I shouldn’t expect him to care. Really, I shouldn’t expect any of them to care.
"It was fine. She was upset about the lurking, but we agreed that it was better. Or at least that we shouldn’t see each other anymore." It was painful just saying the words, knowing that we hadn’t agreed, still able to feel her in my arms, feel my heart beating and hear her crying that she would never forget, that it wasn’t enough time…
I shook the thought off. I had business. Some kind of Apocalypse warning. Hundreds of Mohra demons coming, and I had to hold them off.
"Right. I’ll let you go then, I suppose you have hopeless to help…"
"Something like that. Thanks for calling. If I find out anything else, I’ll let you know."
"I’d appreciate that. Good bye then."
"Good bye." I hung up the phone and sat back in my chair, staring into nothing.
"Is everything okay in Sunnydale?" Cordelia asked, poking her head in the door. I glanced up at her.
"It’s fine. He just wanted to ask about something," I said, standing up. "Is there anything I have to do?" She shook her head mutely.
"Then I’m going to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow." More people to save. More demons to kill. More lives to keep burning. All the lives but mine.
"Doyle," I said, walking out of my office. "Get right on that. I think we’re going to need that information soon. Too soon."
"Sure boss. Whatever you say. I can’t just go see the movie?" I threw him a dirty look and got into the elevator.
* * *
I didn’t sleep that night, but wandered my apartment restlessly, touching the table that should be broken, the bed that should smell of her, the empty fridge where ice cream and peanut butter should sit. The next night I didn’t sleep again, but this time I left, wandering the streets in the darkness.
People would stare as I passed by bars, pulsing with loud, dark music, or elegant restaurants where the truly refined sat and chatted lightly about the fashions in Paris and the next presidential elections. I passed the filthy street corners where beggars sat with their tin cups and toothless, drunk smiles. I invaded dens, unloosing the fury of stolen desire, stunted happiness upon the soulless creatures, snarling at their victims until they ran in fear from me as well and I slumped down, hating myself more than I’d evr hated the ones I killed.
Lights had begun to flicker and go out when I saw him on the street corner. He wasn’t homeless, or a beggar. His clothes were perfectly nice, if a little rumpled. He wore a business suit and a tie, and little glasses with thick rims. And he held a sign, clutching it almost for dear life. The sign said: The End of Days is coming. The world will perish in fire and ice.
I stopped and stared at him until he turned, as if drawn by my gaze. His eyes beneath the glasses looked haunted. "It’s true," he whispered harshly. "It’s true."
And I knew, in his mind anyway, it was.
Oz
It took a while to find an uninhabited place. A couple thousand of miles driving. Gave me time for reflection, and I got there before the next full moon. It was perfect too. A little cold (okay, mostly below freezing) and isolated. That’s what I was going for after all.
I missed her. At night, when the sky was clear, I would sit outside beneath the stars and play my guitar, all the songs I wrote for her.
It was one of those nights I noticed it.
It was so small at first, just this odd blackness where I could have sword there was a star or two. It was just a whole, a tiny dot of total blackness in a black sky. None of the starlight seemed to reach it. It seemed to swallow the moonlight.
I shrugged it off as my fatigue and went to bed.
The next day, it was still there. And a lot more visible in the sunlight.
It got bigger. Every day, it got bigger. Once in a while, if you looked at the right time, it would almost pulse, and the area around it was dimmer than everything else. Like it swallowed whatever light came near it.
When it looked to be as big as small plate, I decided enough contemplation was enough. I packed up my stuff, got in my van and started driving home.
Big black holes in the sky just didn’t seem like a normal occurrence.
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