Aftermath

 

AUTHOR: LAndrews

SUMMARY: Vignette/ Angel journals

RATED: PG-13 Language

SPOILERS: Set immediately after "Forgiving"

DISCLAIMER: Characters described within are property of

Mutant Enemy Productions, 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon,

David Greenwalt, and anybody else working for/with them, in

any case, not me! These characters are used without

permission, intent of infringement, or expectation of profit,

it's just kinda fun!

THANKS: To all the great websites out there offering so much

info and insight and to the Angel Fanfic Workshop.

ARCHIVES: Let me know where!

FEEDBACK: Thanks! landrews@carolina.rr.com

 

 

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AFTERMATH

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I have downed most of a fifth of whiskey. I need to stop this shaking fury long enough to write. I am desperate for calm and writing calms me. I think perhaps even my demon is afraid of me tonight.

 

I wanted to kill Wesley, intend to still. No vamping. That death would be too sweet for what he's done. I want him to be certain when it comes that I am whole. It took all my self-control to close the door without slamming it. I had thought I might actually have the strength to resist attempts to stop me, but the response was faster than I hoped. And I

couldn't do it, not yet. Fuckinggoddamnedshit, Wesley! Why? I let them pull me off. I hope if nothing else, I terrified him. 

 

Actually this works better. No cops, though now he has a guard. He needs to suffer, needs to know fear and that I'm coming for him. He took my son. The fucking bastard took my son, and even for all his research, he has no concept of the deeds I'm capable of...

 

And Sahjhan- he will no longer exist in any form, when this is over. Connor will kill him. Or I will because of Connor. Isn't he old enough to know a prophecy can't be changed? It's just the words he changed, not the destiny.

 

I think Connor will. Kill. I can feel it, at least for now. He's not gone, not gone. I will live a thousand years if I have to, in order to recover him. I need to think. Calm down so I can think.

 

Wolfram and Hart will find another demon for me. One who has never opened Quortoth. Linville will actually get a little this time, maybe a lot, no more holding back. I didn't spend two hundred and forty-eight years learning about pain for nothing.

 

How could he? How could Wesley ever believe I would harm Connor? Even if I lost my soul, I would not hurt Connor. Doesn't he remember my inability to kill Buffy?

 

Of course, I would have in the end...

 

But Connor's mine. Mine in ways Wesley refuses to understand. He'll at least grow to manhood, with or without my soul. And losing it's not that easy. I know. I've tried.

 

I thought I knew pain, thought I had suffered. But this... this is a raging torrent of fire burning me to a blackened hull from the inside. It's raging and I thought I knew rage, but

what has driven me to my limits before is nothing compared to this swirl of emotion moving me now.

 

I thought I knew loss, that my dead heart had been broken. But now, now that it's been ripped from my chest, leaving an endless empty void...

 

I thought...I dared to think I could imagine the grief I had caused. I never came close.

 

The path to forgiveness according to Lorne. Now that's a joke for the ages. Forgive Wesley, forgive myself.  I will never forgive myself. I will never forgive Wesley. All he

had to do was tell me.

 

Just tell me.

 

I'm aware I will never be fully trusted by anyone, of any species. I don't deserve to be. It would be dangerous if they did. But I trust, sometimes fully. I trusted Wesley. I trusted Wesley with my life and with Connor. Neither of us ever deserve forgiveness.

 

What will Cordelia say? After tonight, there's no hiding it. I lost my son. The most important duty of my entire existence, and I fucked up. I'm a vampire. I couldn't tell there was human blood in my supply? It sings through me, I've been high for...days.

I couldn't tell it was Connor's? The smell of him, his blood, fills my every moment with him. How could I miss it?

 

Shit, I don't even trust me, that's why I let that bastard walk out with him.

 

I know someone else I'll never trust again. The PTB. I could rationalize Buffy's death. I know Slayers don't live long. With her, I knew I was trading one death for another.

I thought it might spare her several years, idiot that I am. But why bring her back to die again? Is free will so great a power that the PTB can't prevent something like that? Why

give me Connor? I have no doubt the PTB allowed that one. Are they after my sanity? Take it already.

 

Why do they need me as a warrior anyway? The dark side exists everywhere, in everyone. I know. What damn bit of good has it done to listen to them? Consult the oracles. They couldn't even prevent the deaths of their own. Why did we ever think we should believe in them? They don't know any more what's going to happen than this whiskey bottle does, they just try to manipulate things to favor them.

 

I won't be a pawn any longer, for either side. I will not.

 

Damn. God damn them all.

 

I'm on my own. I'm going to get Connor back, even if it means tripping through another hell dimension. And anyone who gets in my way won't live long enough to be sorry they

did.

 

 

 

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