Fic: Soul's Purpose in Life
Sep. 30th, 2013 11:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clockwork_hart1Title: Soul's Purpose in Life
Rating: Teen
Summary: A final dream at the end of Soul Purpose reveals to Angel a little bit about himself. Will he finally get some clarity? Or will he succumb to yet another nightmare? Familiar faces guest-star…
Disclaimer: There's a Titan somewhere in California who owns the world in which this belongs. I'm just toying with it, and gain nothing from doing so barring fun-ness.
Distribution: Please? Do what you wish barring stealing it and calling it yours or I may be forced to do bad things to you.
Originally posted here
What a pretty world. He may be watching from the shadows, but the sun shines so bright he swears it heats his long dead skin. How nice.
There's a beach. Soft gold sand running through his toes, sea breeze whipping through hair, world swallowed in the salty sweetness of oceans and ice cream and childhood bliss. Not his childhood, maybe, but still…
The sky is painted in pastel blue and gold, soft like an angel's breath; clouds drifting lazily until they fall off the edge of horizon. The gentle rise and fall of waves against the crush of sand the noise of pure, unadulterated peace. This must be heaven.
"I had a dream like this, once," Buffy. She steps into the light, a golden sylph. Sunlight dances delicately along untarnished skin. Barefoot, she wanders slowly across the sand as her eyes greet the ocean beyond. A sigh passes through soft lips and eyes draw closed. Buffy's head falls slowly back, baring herself to the sunlight. "Me and my lover, alone in the sunshine."
Angel feels the squeeze of pain that shoots through a still, empty chest. She looks so perfect, out there in the light. Exactly where she belongs.
But not him.
A hand ventures into the brightness, so pretty and pained as it bursts into flame. He snatches it back to the confines of the shadow as two arms wrap tightly around Buffy's waist.
Pale hands clasp around her front, pulling her close to a black clad figure. Buffy's hands fold over the other's; her head leaning back to rest on a shoulder, eyes faced up to meet a face in shadow.
"I did too, love. Dreamed this a thousand times but never dared pray it would come true", Spike's face is washed by sunshine, blue eyes burning deep into hers.
"No!" Angel screams but his voice is so silent. "How?" And a tear rolls down his cheek. Silent sobs cry out in the darkness, too soft to drown out the two beating hearts.
"It's not like I asked to be Shanshued. Hell, I didn't want anything at all, just to do my duty." Spike's smile is almost mournful as his cheek nestles into her golden hair, her head burrowing deeper into the crook of his neck.
"Well, that's why you got it, hero," a new voice, another hot poker twisting mercilessly in Angel's chest, skewering his stilled heart and burrowing into his soul. Cordelia, awake, drifts lightly onto the beach, fingers tangling gently into the curls on Spike's head.
Spike turns to face the brunette, Buffy's waif-like, golden form a distant memory. He takes Cordy's hands in his and looks deep into bewitching eyes. "After everything I've done to you, how can you call me that?"
She shakes her head and smiles soft as tan hands caress a pale face. Angel shudders in the shadows as his soul burns in his chest. Cordy's fingers delicately trace the angles of Spike's face, stroking sharp cheekbones and gracing full lips. Spike's eyes drift shut as he succumbs to the feeling of soft, warm skin against his. Her whispered words pulling his eyes back open.
"It's not about what you've done. It's who you are that makes you a hero, that makes me lo—" Soft eyes look away as though pained and a zing of victory thrums through Angel. He still has Cordy. She may be lost, she may be sleeping but she's not with Spike…
"Oh screw it!" Cordelia launches herself into the bleached blonde's arms. Her lips fasten onto his, desperate kisses. It's like they're falling into one another as all else in the world slips away. Soft and sweet and searing, neither thinks they'll be ready to come up for air, maybe they'd rather drown.
Angel thinks he's on fire, burning up from the inside out. Tears and screams fall unrelenting from his eyes and mouth, but their silence remains swallowed up by the gentle crashing of waves. This was never heaven. This is his personal Hell. It should be his. This life, this perfect place just out of reach should belong to him. What did he do so wrong?
"Get a room, you two." Connor emerges from between the sand dunes, crouched low, like something wild and hunted. No. This was not the life he gave to him, not the one he deserves.
"Son." Angel cries but his voce remains stolen. "Connor!" Silence.
Spike hisses at the boy, as though there is still some demon buried deep down inside. "Think you can take me, kid?"
Cordelia vanishes and the beach seems to all the world like a primordial grand arena.
Two warriors circle closely one another, a ring drawn in the sand beneath the setting sun. The sky burns a deep, bloody shade of red.
Connor hauls himself at Spike, fists and skin clashing in ferocious fashion. A leg swings out to knock Connor's out from beneath him, the boy meeting Earth with solid thud. His hand grabs Spike's and flips the Champion over, both of them now lying, sprawled on the ground. You'd think becoming human would diminish someone's strength, but Spike still fights as vehemently as ever. He crawls across the sand and grabs Connor by the ankle, dragging the boy back as he stands up. Spike towers over Connor, grinning daringly into "The Destroyer's" eyes.
"Not bad, kid. Not great; but I'll tell you one thing," Spike outstretches an arm to the fallen Champion, "you always put up one hell of a fight."
Connor smirks dangerously as he takes the hand, "what can I say? I learned from the best", he stands beside the former Vampire and punches him playfully in the shoulder, "Dad." The two stand facing the setting sun, staring out into the sea.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Angel turns from the beach to the voice deep in the shadows. A cigarette is thrown from the dark to become nestled in the sand as Spike steps out to face him. "It's hard to see someone else living the life you crave," the blonde pats Angel, still mute, on the shoulder. "You're so convinced that all of this belongs to you, that somehow it's your right, then someone else sneaks up and claws it away." He coughs out something that's not quite a laugh as he catches his Grandsire's eyes. "well what you just faced? That's been my entire life. Dru, Buffy, living as a ghost… It seems my whole damn existence has been in the shadow of yours. But Angel, I've earned this, this right to be a Champion. I got my soul; I've fought the good fight and never asked for anything in return." He smirks a little, hands pressing into Angel's shoulders, the first time since this whole thing began he feels like he's real. "I guess that's why they liked me better. Why I'm the guy who wins. Not because I'm better than you, but because you think I am." Spike pushes Angel out into the sunlight, crying slightly as his Grandsire bursts into flames. "'Night, mate. See you on the other side." And Angel feels himself consumed, his soul seeping out of his chest and setting him aflame. He watches a tear roll down Spike's cheek as his bones crumble to dust.
Until, finally, he wakes.
Sweat slicked and alone in the dark, after the day of eternal sleeping Angel didn’t think he could still dream.
Apparently, he could.
"What's the matter, mate, dreams still big with the scary?" Spike is sat on his couch, staring holes in his ceiling.
"What the hell are you doing here, Spike? Get out", his dream still burns fresh in the room's darkness.
"Saved some lives, downed some beers, couldn't sleep. Just sort of found myself here", Spike shrugs, sitting up on the sofa and staring over the bed.
"Well I'm not in the mood for a heart to heart, can you just get out?" Angel sighs, remembering Dream-Spike's words; 'Not because I'm better than you, but because you think I am.' His muscles ache, mostly his chest. Probably from the parasite, but he suspects something deeper.
"Suit yourself." Spike climbs from his seat on the couch and makes towards the door. As he pulls it open, light from the hallway spills inside, coating Spike in golden brightness. He goes to leave, ready to slam the door dramatically behind him, but something makes him pause. His head peeks back through the doorway and into the apartment, "I get it, y'know. This life demands so much and reaps no reward, but you're not the only one. You're not alone in the fight; I'm right there, fists and fangs at the ready, from now, and 'till the end. Which, judging by where you work, won't be far off." A pause, a meaningful look passed between the two Champions, as a smirk plays cruelly on the blonde's lips. "Well, 'night, Peaches." Spike cackles as the door pulls shut and he makes off into the dark, ready to be the knight in shining black leather.
And Angel lies back down on the bed, ready to once more succumb to oblivion, only now there's a smile. 'Fists and fangs... 'till the end.' Angel chuckles in the gloom.
Bring on the end.
Rating: Teen
Summary: A final dream at the end of Soul Purpose reveals to Angel a little bit about himself. Will he finally get some clarity? Or will he succumb to yet another nightmare? Familiar faces guest-star…
Disclaimer: There's a Titan somewhere in California who owns the world in which this belongs. I'm just toying with it, and gain nothing from doing so barring fun-ness.
Distribution: Please? Do what you wish barring stealing it and calling it yours or I may be forced to do bad things to you.
Originally posted here
What a pretty world. He may be watching from the shadows, but the sun shines so bright he swears it heats his long dead skin. How nice.
There's a beach. Soft gold sand running through his toes, sea breeze whipping through hair, world swallowed in the salty sweetness of oceans and ice cream and childhood bliss. Not his childhood, maybe, but still…
The sky is painted in pastel blue and gold, soft like an angel's breath; clouds drifting lazily until they fall off the edge of horizon. The gentle rise and fall of waves against the crush of sand the noise of pure, unadulterated peace. This must be heaven.
"I had a dream like this, once," Buffy. She steps into the light, a golden sylph. Sunlight dances delicately along untarnished skin. Barefoot, she wanders slowly across the sand as her eyes greet the ocean beyond. A sigh passes through soft lips and eyes draw closed. Buffy's head falls slowly back, baring herself to the sunlight. "Me and my lover, alone in the sunshine."
Angel feels the squeeze of pain that shoots through a still, empty chest. She looks so perfect, out there in the light. Exactly where she belongs.
But not him.
A hand ventures into the brightness, so pretty and pained as it bursts into flame. He snatches it back to the confines of the shadow as two arms wrap tightly around Buffy's waist.
Pale hands clasp around her front, pulling her close to a black clad figure. Buffy's hands fold over the other's; her head leaning back to rest on a shoulder, eyes faced up to meet a face in shadow.
"I did too, love. Dreamed this a thousand times but never dared pray it would come true", Spike's face is washed by sunshine, blue eyes burning deep into hers.
"No!" Angel screams but his voice is so silent. "How?" And a tear rolls down his cheek. Silent sobs cry out in the darkness, too soft to drown out the two beating hearts.
"It's not like I asked to be Shanshued. Hell, I didn't want anything at all, just to do my duty." Spike's smile is almost mournful as his cheek nestles into her golden hair, her head burrowing deeper into the crook of his neck.
"Well, that's why you got it, hero," a new voice, another hot poker twisting mercilessly in Angel's chest, skewering his stilled heart and burrowing into his soul. Cordelia, awake, drifts lightly onto the beach, fingers tangling gently into the curls on Spike's head.
Spike turns to face the brunette, Buffy's waif-like, golden form a distant memory. He takes Cordy's hands in his and looks deep into bewitching eyes. "After everything I've done to you, how can you call me that?"
She shakes her head and smiles soft as tan hands caress a pale face. Angel shudders in the shadows as his soul burns in his chest. Cordy's fingers delicately trace the angles of Spike's face, stroking sharp cheekbones and gracing full lips. Spike's eyes drift shut as he succumbs to the feeling of soft, warm skin against his. Her whispered words pulling his eyes back open.
"It's not about what you've done. It's who you are that makes you a hero, that makes me lo—" Soft eyes look away as though pained and a zing of victory thrums through Angel. He still has Cordy. She may be lost, she may be sleeping but she's not with Spike…
"Oh screw it!" Cordelia launches herself into the bleached blonde's arms. Her lips fasten onto his, desperate kisses. It's like they're falling into one another as all else in the world slips away. Soft and sweet and searing, neither thinks they'll be ready to come up for air, maybe they'd rather drown.
Angel thinks he's on fire, burning up from the inside out. Tears and screams fall unrelenting from his eyes and mouth, but their silence remains swallowed up by the gentle crashing of waves. This was never heaven. This is his personal Hell. It should be his. This life, this perfect place just out of reach should belong to him. What did he do so wrong?
"Get a room, you two." Connor emerges from between the sand dunes, crouched low, like something wild and hunted. No. This was not the life he gave to him, not the one he deserves.
"Son." Angel cries but his voce remains stolen. "Connor!" Silence.
Spike hisses at the boy, as though there is still some demon buried deep down inside. "Think you can take me, kid?"
Cordelia vanishes and the beach seems to all the world like a primordial grand arena.
Two warriors circle closely one another, a ring drawn in the sand beneath the setting sun. The sky burns a deep, bloody shade of red.
Connor hauls himself at Spike, fists and skin clashing in ferocious fashion. A leg swings out to knock Connor's out from beneath him, the boy meeting Earth with solid thud. His hand grabs Spike's and flips the Champion over, both of them now lying, sprawled on the ground. You'd think becoming human would diminish someone's strength, but Spike still fights as vehemently as ever. He crawls across the sand and grabs Connor by the ankle, dragging the boy back as he stands up. Spike towers over Connor, grinning daringly into "The Destroyer's" eyes.
"Not bad, kid. Not great; but I'll tell you one thing," Spike outstretches an arm to the fallen Champion, "you always put up one hell of a fight."
Connor smirks dangerously as he takes the hand, "what can I say? I learned from the best", he stands beside the former Vampire and punches him playfully in the shoulder, "Dad." The two stand facing the setting sun, staring out into the sea.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Angel turns from the beach to the voice deep in the shadows. A cigarette is thrown from the dark to become nestled in the sand as Spike steps out to face him. "It's hard to see someone else living the life you crave," the blonde pats Angel, still mute, on the shoulder. "You're so convinced that all of this belongs to you, that somehow it's your right, then someone else sneaks up and claws it away." He coughs out something that's not quite a laugh as he catches his Grandsire's eyes. "well what you just faced? That's been my entire life. Dru, Buffy, living as a ghost… It seems my whole damn existence has been in the shadow of yours. But Angel, I've earned this, this right to be a Champion. I got my soul; I've fought the good fight and never asked for anything in return." He smirks a little, hands pressing into Angel's shoulders, the first time since this whole thing began he feels like he's real. "I guess that's why they liked me better. Why I'm the guy who wins. Not because I'm better than you, but because you think I am." Spike pushes Angel out into the sunlight, crying slightly as his Grandsire bursts into flames. "'Night, mate. See you on the other side." And Angel feels himself consumed, his soul seeping out of his chest and setting him aflame. He watches a tear roll down Spike's cheek as his bones crumble to dust.
Until, finally, he wakes.
Sweat slicked and alone in the dark, after the day of eternal sleeping Angel didn’t think he could still dream.
Apparently, he could.
"What's the matter, mate, dreams still big with the scary?" Spike is sat on his couch, staring holes in his ceiling.
"What the hell are you doing here, Spike? Get out", his dream still burns fresh in the room's darkness.
"Saved some lives, downed some beers, couldn't sleep. Just sort of found myself here", Spike shrugs, sitting up on the sofa and staring over the bed.
"Well I'm not in the mood for a heart to heart, can you just get out?" Angel sighs, remembering Dream-Spike's words; 'Not because I'm better than you, but because you think I am.' His muscles ache, mostly his chest. Probably from the parasite, but he suspects something deeper.
"Suit yourself." Spike climbs from his seat on the couch and makes towards the door. As he pulls it open, light from the hallway spills inside, coating Spike in golden brightness. He goes to leave, ready to slam the door dramatically behind him, but something makes him pause. His head peeks back through the doorway and into the apartment, "I get it, y'know. This life demands so much and reaps no reward, but you're not the only one. You're not alone in the fight; I'm right there, fists and fangs at the ready, from now, and 'till the end. Which, judging by where you work, won't be far off." A pause, a meaningful look passed between the two Champions, as a smirk plays cruelly on the blonde's lips. "Well, 'night, Peaches." Spike cackles as the door pulls shut and he makes off into the dark, ready to be the knight in shining black leather.
And Angel lies back down on the bed, ready to once more succumb to oblivion, only now there's a smile. 'Fists and fangs... 'till the end.' Angel chuckles in the gloom.
Bring on the end.
