Fic: The House of Silent Tears
Sep. 30th, 2013 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clockwork_hart1Title: The House of Silent Tears
Rating: PG
Summary: A vignette, near the end of 'You're Welcome'. Wesley goes to see what's taking Angel and Cordy so long and finds his Boss alone and broken.
Genre: Hurt/comfort /Friendship/Tragedy
Originally posted here
"Angel, everybody's wait—",Wesley stopped, taking in the anguish on his Boss's face. Eyes were haunted and his body totally still. He didn't even blink. "Angel, where's Cordy?"
Angel remained still, but a tear made a wet path down his cheek.
"Angel?" Wes approached him carefully, laying a hand on the Vampire's back, a part of him scared to break the catatonia. But something was wrong.
Angel forced a voice out through chapped lips, "she's gone."
Wesley's voice was tentative, "gone where, home? To see Dennis?"
Angel choked out a sob.
"No? Then… Where has she gone?" His voice was a knife coated in butter, smooth and even and sharp enough to bleed, falsely soft. Honestly, he was scared, brain addled with disbelief. Wes sat on the edge of the desk beside Angel, waiting for one of them to fall.
"She knew. 'First soldier down', she knew she was next." Angel shook his head, the first movement since he'd dropped the phone, cord still swinging like a hanged man beside his legs. Voice devoid of all emotion, like his soul had broke.
That's when Wesley was sure, and much like Angel, let stoic, silent tears begin to drip down his face.
"Doyle, Cordy. I let them die, Wes. I can't let another person die for me." His was the voice of an automaton; a whisper, barely real.
"We won't." Wesley's hand gripped Angel's shoulder, nails sinking deep into muscular flesh. "We've already lost too much."
"I loved her, Wes." There was a crack. His voice breaking on the words as they fragmented on his tongue. The crack betraying that he was not mechanical, but a creature of flesh whose heart could bleed.
There lay the house of the silent tears and neither man could make their mouths speak or bodies move. Two men, grieving and broken, sat in silence as they drowned in tears.
Rating: PG
Summary: A vignette, near the end of 'You're Welcome'. Wesley goes to see what's taking Angel and Cordy so long and finds his Boss alone and broken.
Genre: Hurt/comfort /Friendship/Tragedy
Originally posted here
"Angel, everybody's wait—",Wesley stopped, taking in the anguish on his Boss's face. Eyes were haunted and his body totally still. He didn't even blink. "Angel, where's Cordy?"
Angel remained still, but a tear made a wet path down his cheek.
"Angel?" Wes approached him carefully, laying a hand on the Vampire's back, a part of him scared to break the catatonia. But something was wrong.
Angel forced a voice out through chapped lips, "she's gone."
Wesley's voice was tentative, "gone where, home? To see Dennis?"
Angel choked out a sob.
"No? Then… Where has she gone?" His voice was a knife coated in butter, smooth and even and sharp enough to bleed, falsely soft. Honestly, he was scared, brain addled with disbelief. Wes sat on the edge of the desk beside Angel, waiting for one of them to fall.
"She knew. 'First soldier down', she knew she was next." Angel shook his head, the first movement since he'd dropped the phone, cord still swinging like a hanged man beside his legs. Voice devoid of all emotion, like his soul had broke.
That's when Wesley was sure, and much like Angel, let stoic, silent tears begin to drip down his face.
"Doyle, Cordy. I let them die, Wes. I can't let another person die for me." His was the voice of an automaton; a whisper, barely real.
"We won't." Wesley's hand gripped Angel's shoulder, nails sinking deep into muscular flesh. "We've already lost too much."
"I loved her, Wes." There was a crack. His voice breaking on the words as they fragmented on his tongue. The crack betraying that he was not mechanical, but a creature of flesh whose heart could bleed.
There lay the house of the silent tears and neither man could make their mouths speak or bodies move. Two men, grieving and broken, sat in silence as they drowned in tears.
