beer_good_foamy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beer_good_foamy) wrote2008-01-17 11:04 pm
beer_good_foamy) wrote2008-01-17 11:04 pm
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After the Fall fic: In the Land of Moab
I didn't think I was going to fic the After the Fall comics, but #3 just gave me this angsty-silly plotbunny that jumped out at me and shrieked "WRITE ME! WRIIIIIITE MEEEE!" in this sort of high-pitched, vicious voice that didn't take "no" for an answer. So this is based on two of the frames in #3, which means SPOILER ALERT. (If you haven't read them, what you need to know is basically that (highlight) LA was sent to hell following "Not Fade Away", and Angel was made human. That, and the dialogue in the two panels included at the end of this fic.)
Title: In the Land of Moab
Author: Beer Good (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beer_good_foamy)
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 600
Fandom: Angel: After the Fall comics
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon. If I make money off of them, I'll go to hell.
Warning: Character death (and rebirth)
Summary: You know how time fades away?
In the Land of Moab
Angel's head sags. The blood loss and the pain finally prove too much for what is, after all, just a human body – and not a young one, anymore. All those years of fighting to make up for what he did, to restore Los Angeles to its right dimension... And he'd actually seen it happen, seen HellA flicker and fade, seen a glimpse of it being returned to its normal sunny self. Without him.
But time passes differently in hell. As far as anyone on Earth knew, LA was hit by an earthquake and all communications were down for an hour or so. In hell, Angel remains, an old man nailed to a wall with knives through his hands. So very tired. His hearing is almost gone, and he doesn't notice her approaching until her shadow falls on him and he has to use the last of his strength to look up.
Didn't think I'd see that face again.
"Angel." Illyria doesn't kneel before the dying man, but there's a hint of respect in her eyes.
"So..." he rasps, his throat too dry to speak properly. "You stayed behind too, huh?"
"This world suits me. Let the humans have their brief lives, I prefer things that last."
"And Spike?" Too tired to even inject any venom in the name. It's strange, but he thinks it seemed important once.
"He went with them. He received..." Illyria hesitates, as if she almost said too much, then changes the subject. "You paid the highest price. This is the mark of a true warrior. Yours is a good death, however difficult."
"Yeah," Angel coughs, "feels great." He frowns, as if trying to remember something from long ago. "I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither."
"What is that?"
"Just... another prophecy... I guess." Funny, he spent so many years without having to breathe, and now it's getting so hard. "Illyria... pull out the knives. I don't... want to die... like this."
"You will bleed out."
He smiles, teeth biting down hard in anticipation of pain. "Wouldn't be the first time."
With superhuman speed, she yanks the knives out. Angel slumps forward into her arms, feeling his life drain away into darkness
and opens his new eyes, blinking against the bright light, still in shock. Dark, warm gone. A jumble of memories seem to run through his chubby fingers and down into half-forgottenness. He's still too confused to even start putting words on things when he feels strong hands lift and cradle his tiny, newborn body.
"Look at him," a familiar voice pants. "I can't believe... he's ours. We made him."
"Yeah. Hard to comprehend, ain't it? Wanna hold him, pet?"
He's handed over to another pair of arms, slimmer but just as strong. His mother holds him close, gently, as if afraid she'll break him. "He's... perfect." She sobs with joy. "I feel like I'm the luckiest woman in the world. Just nine months ago you get the shanshu, and now this... Oh, Spike, I love you so much. Both of you... all three of us."
Her husband settles into bed next to her. "Me too, Buffy. Me too. And don't you worry about a thing; I'm going to keep this little nipper safe with every breath in my body. I've been through too much to muck this up." He leans closer, caressing the baby's head and peering into his eyes with a proud smile. "Hear that, little man? You just get used to me, 'cause I ain't letting you out of my sight for the next 18 years."
The infant's eyes finally adjust to the bright light of the delivery room and focus on the smiling faces of his two blonde parents. And Angel opens his mouth and screams.
Title: In the Land of Moab
Author: Beer Good (
beer_good_foamy)Rating: PG13
Word Count: 600
Fandom: Angel: After the Fall comics
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon. If I make money off of them, I'll go to hell.
Warning: Character death (and rebirth)
Summary: You know how time fades away?
In the Land of Moab
Angel's head sags. The blood loss and the pain finally prove too much for what is, after all, just a human body – and not a young one, anymore. All those years of fighting to make up for what he did, to restore Los Angeles to its right dimension... And he'd actually seen it happen, seen HellA flicker and fade, seen a glimpse of it being returned to its normal sunny self. Without him.
But time passes differently in hell. As far as anyone on Earth knew, LA was hit by an earthquake and all communications were down for an hour or so. In hell, Angel remains, an old man nailed to a wall with knives through his hands. So very tired. His hearing is almost gone, and he doesn't notice her approaching until her shadow falls on him and he has to use the last of his strength to look up.
Didn't think I'd see that face again.
"Angel." Illyria doesn't kneel before the dying man, but there's a hint of respect in her eyes.
"So..." he rasps, his throat too dry to speak properly. "You stayed behind too, huh?"
"This world suits me. Let the humans have their brief lives, I prefer things that last."
"And Spike?" Too tired to even inject any venom in the name. It's strange, but he thinks it seemed important once.
"He went with them. He received..." Illyria hesitates, as if she almost said too much, then changes the subject. "You paid the highest price. This is the mark of a true warrior. Yours is a good death, however difficult."
"Yeah," Angel coughs, "feels great." He frowns, as if trying to remember something from long ago. "I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither."
"What is that?"
"Just... another prophecy... I guess." Funny, he spent so many years without having to breathe, and now it's getting so hard. "Illyria... pull out the knives. I don't... want to die... like this."
"You will bleed out."
He smiles, teeth biting down hard in anticipation of pain. "Wouldn't be the first time."
With superhuman speed, she yanks the knives out. Angel slumps forward into her arms, feeling his life drain away into darkness
and opens his new eyes, blinking against the bright light, still in shock. Dark, warm gone. A jumble of memories seem to run through his chubby fingers and down into half-forgottenness. He's still too confused to even start putting words on things when he feels strong hands lift and cradle his tiny, newborn body.
"Look at him," a familiar voice pants. "I can't believe... he's ours. We made him."
"Yeah. Hard to comprehend, ain't it? Wanna hold him, pet?"
He's handed over to another pair of arms, slimmer but just as strong. His mother holds him close, gently, as if afraid she'll break him. "He's... perfect." She sobs with joy. "I feel like I'm the luckiest woman in the world. Just nine months ago you get the shanshu, and now this... Oh, Spike, I love you so much. Both of you... all three of us."
Her husband settles into bed next to her. "Me too, Buffy. Me too. And don't you worry about a thing; I'm going to keep this little nipper safe with every breath in my body. I've been through too much to muck this up." He leans closer, caressing the baby's head and peering into his eyes with a proud smile. "Hear that, little man? You just get used to me, 'cause I ain't letting you out of my sight for the next 18 years."
The infant's eyes finally adjust to the bright light of the delivery room and focus on the smiling faces of his two blonde parents. And Angel opens his mouth and screams.