| Title: Captive of the Soul Author: Yatzee Chapter 13 Angelus grinned. How often did you get an opportunity like this? The opportunity to feast on this much terror, this much disappointed hope, all in the same moment? Not often enough. He dropped lightly from the rafters, only a few feet in front of his victim. "Miss me?" Angelus said, smiling at the startled figure of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Wesley fired -- at the same instant that one of the charred floorboards beneath his feet gave way. He stumbled, and Angelus didn't even have to duck. His one shot had been wasted. "You did miss me," Angelus said. He stepped closer even as Wesley struggled to pry himself loose from the broken boards. "Why am I not surprised?" Wesley got himself free one instant too late; Angelus' hands twisted around his coat lapels and pulled him close, bringing them face to face. "This was your big night, Wes. Your night to prove you could actually do something. And see how much you've accomplished. I'm proud of you, son." On the word "son," Angelus flung Wesley across the room, delighting in the stifled cry of pain he heard as Wesley's body hit the floor. "You could't just let it go, could you? Couldn't just let me have my fun. I think by now it's obvious that you don't know who you're dealing with. Maybe it's time I taught you." "We know exactly who we're dealing with." Angelus turned around to see Cordelia in the corner, shaking violently but standing her ground. "If you knew who you were dealing with, Cordy, you wouldn't have come out of your little hidey-hole. I was kind of looking forward to prying you out myself." "Cordelia!" Wesley gasped, obviously breathless from his tumble to the ground. "For God's sake, run --" "Could be fun," Angelus said with a shrug, wondering idly if her human eyes could see his smile in the darkness. "Haven't you wanted me to chase you, Cordy? Get my hands on you, pull you close?" "We know exactly who we're dealing with," Cordelia repeated, her voice a little stronger. "The only one who doesn't know is Angel." "What are you on about?" Angelus said. "You've got him fooled," Cordelia said. "The only reason we went through all this is because he's so scared of you. Of how strong you are, of how weak he thinks he is. He said -- he said he was your captive." Angelus watched as she actually stepped forward, staring him down; however dark it was to her, he knew now that she could see his eyes. "But the thing is, anytime both of you are in that body -- you're never the one in control. The only way you can take over is when he gets thrown out by that curse or this stupid hypnotism thing. He's the strong one. And you? You're the captive." "You'll lose your throat for that," Angelus snarled, leaping forward to grab Cordelia in his arms. She cried out as his hands closed over her shoulders and he pulled her roughly against him. "But not until I've made you scream --" And that was when he felt it -- a tiny little jab in his side. He glanced down, saw Cordelia's fist jammed against his ribs -- and saw her pull it away, open up her fingers to reveal a tranquilizer dart. "Bitch," he growled, shoving her down to the ground so hard her body went limp. Damn her to hell; yeah, he could do it, he could still take her. Angelus lowered himself over her, brought his fangs to her throat -- as the butt of the tranquilizer gun slammed into the side of his face. "Get away from her," Wesley said, holding the gun in one hand and his side in the other. And Angelus could think of a million things to say that would make that guy crumple right over -- both of him -- all three -- And unconsciousness swam up to swallow him. ***** Kate took the stairs three at a time and sprang into the room to see -- Wesley, Cordelia and Angel, the latter two lying on the floor, the former looking as though he might topple over to join them any second. "What the hell is going on?" she said. "Officer Lockley," Wesley said, with a sense of wonder as though he'd never really seen her before. Then he shook his head and repeated, "Officer Lockley. You're -- you're just in time." "In time for what?" "Owwww," Cordelia groaned from her place on the floor. "My head hurts. Oh, wait, that means I'm alive. Yay for pain." "Cordelia, I was just about to tell Officer Lockely about the -- Wulxey demon -- that attacked all three of us." "Whatsy demon?" "Exactly," Wesley said. Kate glared at him, then at the prone figure of Angel on the floor. "You were chasing a demon?" "Yes. Precisely. We had reason to believe it would, ah, seek out our former headquarters. Revenge. We'd foiled its plans before, you see." "Revenge," Kate repeated. "Yeah," Cordelia said, sounding much more confident than she had a moment ago, although she made no effort to sit up. "Yeah. He was -- real bitter." "It just jumped all three of us. Afraid I missed my shot," Wesley said. "Knocked Cordelia out for a moment and, ah, appears to have knocked Angel out rather soundly." "So where is it?" Kate said, glancing around the room. After a moment, Wesley said, "Went out the window, I think. I confess I was so worried about Cordelia and Angel that I -- lost sight of it for a moment." "What does it look like?" Kate said, heading for the window, gun still at the ready. "It, ah -- it takes on the appearance of someone you trust," Wesley said in a rush, as if pleased to be telling her this. "It can look like anyone. Anything. Very tricky, the Wuxley." "Whatsy," Cordelia said. "Exactly," Wesley replied. Kate looked at the street below. In the predawn hush, all she could see was the homeless woman from earlier, tiredly trudging toward another corner, another street. "I think it got away." "Well, darn," Cordelia said. "Don't fret, Cordelia!" Wesley said brightly. "We'll get that demon another day. Officer, would you mind doing us a favor?" "Probably." When Wesley looked back at her, she sighed. "What?" "Take Cordelia to the hospital, make certain she's all right." "I'm fine," Cordelia protested, propping up on one elbow for a moment, then sinking back to the floor. "On the other hand, why turn down a chance for prescription painkillers?" "That's as close to the line of duty as I've gotten in a while, so, okay. What about your boss?" Kate gestured toward Angel, still motionless on the floor. Wesley quietly said, "Leave him to me." Kate holstered her weapon and moved to Cordelia's side. As she helped the younger woman to her feet, she kept her eyes on Wesley. "I'm not stupid. I know you're not telling me everything." "Forgive me, Officer, but I very much had the impression there were things you didn't want to know." Kate raised an eyebrow at that. "Fair enough." But, even as she guided Cordelia to the stairs, her eyes were hard. Title: Captive of the Soul Author: Yatzee Chapter 14 "He's coming around." "If he isn't fully conscious --" "Hearing's the first sense to return." A chime sounded twice. Angel opened his eyes, and wakefulness and light and something far deeper flooded into him all at once. Blinking, he looked up into the two faces above him -- Wesley's pale one and Father Augustine's dark one -- and felt an all-too-familiar moment of confusion. Where was he? Cordelia's living room -- strange, he wasn't supposed to be there. Oh, the exorcism; were they done? And memory came rushing in. And then shame. Angel shut his eyes again. "Oh, God." "Angel?" Wesley asked. "How do you feel?" For a long moment, Angel could not reply, could not even open his eyes to look at his friend. "How's Cordelia?" he finally managed. "She's all right," Wesley said gently. "Concussion, muscle strain in her back and, she says, one particularly nasty bruise. It's in an area she won't show me." "And you?" "I'm fine. Bruised my ribs again. That's all," Wesley said. "Please don't worry." "Worry," Angel said, his voice cracking on the word. "That doesn't begin to describe it." "Angel," Father Augustine said, "I realize that this is a difficult moment for you, but I must ask: do you wish to attempt the exorcism again? Because if you do, the sooner we try it --" "No," Angel said. "It's not worth the risk." After a pause, Father Augustine quietly said, "I agree. The demon within you spoke truth, Angel. It is in its rightful place. To attempt to remove it was --" "Insane?" Angel asked, opening his eyes to accept the priest's condemnation. Instead he saw Father Augustine shake his head slowly. "Courageous, I would say. But perhaps futile. And not worth risking innocent lives." "Thank you for trying, Father," Wesley said. Father Augustine shook his head slightly. "No need. I do my duty. If you need me again, do not hesitate to call." As the priest bustled out, Angel slowly turned his head to look at Wesley, who was standing next to the couch, looking down at him with an unreadable expression. Finally, Angel said, "I don't know what to do besides ask you to forgive me." "That's all you need to do," Wesley said. "Angel, listen to me: it's all right. Really. We knew what we were getting into." Angel shook his head. "You told me I shouldn't do this. I did it anyway. And whatever you signed up for didn't include almost getting killed." "After seeing Angelus again, I can tell you that I can't blame you for wanting to be rid of him once and for all." "Him," Angel repeated quietly. "Where's Cordelia?" "Asleep in her room," Wesley said, gesturing toward her closed door. "The doctor wanted her in bed. Of course, we've got to wake her every four hours to make certain her head is all right." He knelt beside the sofa and held out a small key. "Here. Let me get those cuffs off." Angel allowed himself to be unshackled, looked at the cracked skin on his wrists as they were freed from their steel. "Is Kate --" "Unharmed and unknowing," Wesley said. "Though I believe her suspicions have been heightened, if such a thing were possible." "Great," Angel sighed. He sat up slowly and looked over at Wesley again. This time he was able to take in Wesley's pallor, the shaded expression in his eyes. "You need some rest," Angel said. "Wouldn't mind that at all," Wesley said. "The sleeping bag is already out, actually. So if you wouldn't mind waking Cordelia in two hours -- she said she wanted to speak to you as soon as possible --" "Wes, take the couch," Angel said quickly. "No, no," Wesley said. "Not my turn." He paused before adding, "You don't have anything to make up to me." Angel sighed and put his forehead in his hand. "Wes --" "If you did have anything to make up to me," Wesley said, in a odd, rushed voice, "it would be because those things he said were real. And we both know that they weren't. And besides, it wasn't even you. And so there's no need to discuss any of it any further, is there?" When Angel looked up again, Wesley was trying to smile. The attempt wasn't working that well, but in that moment it struck Angel as exceptionally brave. He could only reply, "No, I guess not." "All right, then," Wesley said, his relief evident. As he stretched out on the sleeping bag, he genuinely seemed to relax; Angel watched him quickly drift into an exhausted, and hopefully dreamless, sleep. Two hours of fitful napping and sinking dread later, Angel stood beside Cordelia's bed. She was splayed out on her back, long hair across the pillow, looking not unlike the figure he had so roughly shoved to the ground only hours ago. He reached out to touch her shoulder and gently shake her awake, but stopped when he saw the bruises on her arms -- the shadow images of his hands. Angel took his hand away and whispered, "Cordelia?" She stirred immediately, opening her eyes wide. "Angel. You're back." "If that's what you'd call it," Angel said. "How do you feel?" "Good," Cordelia said, slowly propping herself up on one elbow. "The vision does not blur; the head does not hurt more. So I'm good. In a couple minutes, I have to walk around some. Gonna help with that?" Angel looked down for a moment, then knelt by the side of the bed. "Cordelia, I'm so sorry." "It's okay," she said, reassuring him as quickly as Wesley had. "I meant what I said to that -- that -- bully. He can say what he wants, do what he wants, but he's the weak one, Angel. Don't forget that." There isn't any he, Cordelia. There's only me. That's what you don't want to understand. That was what Angel wanted to say. But the need in her eyes kept him silent. She needed to believe that Angelus was some prisoner in a cage, who came out to rattle the bars now and again. He knew, by now, that she could never accept that the demon was much or more a part of him than his soul. Wesley, who had every reason to know better, persisted in the belief too -- despite all his education, all his evidence. And Angel needed to let them believe what they wanted to believe, because that was the price of his acceptance here -- his home, his friends, everything that made his existence worthwhile. No matter how many times he undermined their friendship, it could always be rebuilt on the foundation of this one, simple pretense. Angel would have thought that you could not build happiness upon a lie. But, as he nodded at her and saw her trusting face spread into a genuine smile, he decided he must have been wrong. "You were terrific," Angel said. "That took guts, luring me close like that." "Many unkind and true things have been said about me over the years," Cordelia sighed, "but never that I lacked nerve." "True and true," Angel said. "Can I do something for you? Do you need -- breakfast? Juice? The July Vogue?" "Nah," she said. "I still have some serious catching up to do with the sleep. We'll take our stroll, and then it's back to REMsville for me." Angel returned her smile as he reached up to brush a bit of hair from her face. And that moment -- the intimacy of it, the nearness of their bodies, their faces, here in her bedroom -- reminded him that not everything could be put away so easily. "We ought to talk about what I said -- what he said about the two of us." Cordelia visibly flinched, but she did not hesitate before she answered, "I know nothing's ever gonna happen with you and me. I always knew that. So it's not like I had my hopes up or something." "No, it can't ever happen," Angel said. "That's my misfortune. It shouldn't be yours." Cordelia sighed heavily and said, "I HATE Gypsies." Her voice was so sincere that Angel had to laugh for a moment. She brightened at the sound and smiled at him with a touch of her old playfulness. "I mean, think about it. I'd make you so happy so fast we wouldn't even have time to blink before your soul was outta there." Before he could talk himself out of it, Angel leaned forward and quickly kissed her forehead. "I don't doubt it." |