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moonlettuceTitle: Moments In Time: Burnt Offerings
Episode: To Shanshu In LA
Author: Claire
Laying the books he's been carrying on the desk, Wesley sighs. The answers to why Cordelia's having constant visions has to be in there somewhere. And maybe he'd be able to find it if he could actually see straight. He's been looking at books for what seems like days and he's no nearer to the answer than he was when Cordelia was first admitted to hospital.
Rubbing at his eyes, he heads out of the inner office towards the coffee machine, grimacing when he finds it empty. Without thinking about it, he walks back into Angel's office and gathers the books back into his arms and goes towards the stairs that lead to Angel's. He knows the vampire keeps coffee downstairs, Cordy made enough fuss about there never being anything for humans to drink until Angel started stocking it in his cupboards. If Wesley has any hope of staying awake tonight, then he's going to need to be near the coffee, and he's sure Angel won't mind if he takes over the table for a night.
Angel must be out looking for another lead, because the flat is dark and silent when Wesley walks into it. Dark and silent, and *wrong*. Something's wrong. His eyes scanning the room, he stops at the weapons cabinet, the weapons cabinet with the broken lock. Setting the books down carefully, he walks over to the cabinet and opens it slowly. His eyes widening as he registers the device sitting among the weapons, he starts to back away. And then the world explodes.
*
There's a cacophony of sound, roaring heat beating at his ears. He has to move, *needs* to move, but his body won't co-operate. And he never thought this was how it would end. He always thought he'd be killed by a vampire, a demon... his father. Never thought it would be by an inferno, never by a bomb set in a vampire's flat. But maybe it's poetic, he was trained to fight vampires, so maybe getting killed helping one is fate's way of balancing things.
And he still wants to move. He isn't ready to die, there's still too many things he needs to do. But there's a lancing pain shooting through him, and his limbs just won't listen to him. So he breathes in the acrid smoke and lets go, waiting for the fire to reach him.
But he doesn't quite understand why the fire is calling his name. And why does it sound like Angel? Because Angel can't be here, wouldn't run into a burning building. Vampires and fire just don't mix, so he knows he's imagining it. Imagining the worried look on Angel's face as he bends down next to him. Imagining the concerned tone of the voice as it speaks his name. And then cool fingers press against his neck, and he knows he can't be imagining that, because images have no substance. But then the only explanation is that Angel came for him, didn't leave him.
He wants to speak, but can't work up the energy. Wants to tell Angel that he's okay now, but the words won't come. And Angel continues to speak his name, and the words are soft and gentle. Then he's lifted into strong arms, cradled and protected from the flames that surround them, as Angel murmurs to him, making his way across the floor. The heat is dying down now, and he can breathe easier as the stars appear.
And all he thinks as the cool air hits his face is that Angel came for him. Angel walked through fire for him. And suddenly, he doesn't feel like letting go anymore.
End MIT: Burnt Offerings
Other Moments In Time can be found here.
Episode: To Shanshu In LA
Author: Claire
Laying the books he's been carrying on the desk, Wesley sighs. The answers to why Cordelia's having constant visions has to be in there somewhere. And maybe he'd be able to find it if he could actually see straight. He's been looking at books for what seems like days and he's no nearer to the answer than he was when Cordelia was first admitted to hospital.
Rubbing at his eyes, he heads out of the inner office towards the coffee machine, grimacing when he finds it empty. Without thinking about it, he walks back into Angel's office and gathers the books back into his arms and goes towards the stairs that lead to Angel's. He knows the vampire keeps coffee downstairs, Cordy made enough fuss about there never being anything for humans to drink until Angel started stocking it in his cupboards. If Wesley has any hope of staying awake tonight, then he's going to need to be near the coffee, and he's sure Angel won't mind if he takes over the table for a night.
Angel must be out looking for another lead, because the flat is dark and silent when Wesley walks into it. Dark and silent, and *wrong*. Something's wrong. His eyes scanning the room, he stops at the weapons cabinet, the weapons cabinet with the broken lock. Setting the books down carefully, he walks over to the cabinet and opens it slowly. His eyes widening as he registers the device sitting among the weapons, he starts to back away. And then the world explodes.
*
There's a cacophony of sound, roaring heat beating at his ears. He has to move, *needs* to move, but his body won't co-operate. And he never thought this was how it would end. He always thought he'd be killed by a vampire, a demon... his father. Never thought it would be by an inferno, never by a bomb set in a vampire's flat. But maybe it's poetic, he was trained to fight vampires, so maybe getting killed helping one is fate's way of balancing things.
And he still wants to move. He isn't ready to die, there's still too many things he needs to do. But there's a lancing pain shooting through him, and his limbs just won't listen to him. So he breathes in the acrid smoke and lets go, waiting for the fire to reach him.
But he doesn't quite understand why the fire is calling his name. And why does it sound like Angel? Because Angel can't be here, wouldn't run into a burning building. Vampires and fire just don't mix, so he knows he's imagining it. Imagining the worried look on Angel's face as he bends down next to him. Imagining the concerned tone of the voice as it speaks his name. And then cool fingers press against his neck, and he knows he can't be imagining that, because images have no substance. But then the only explanation is that Angel came for him, didn't leave him.
He wants to speak, but can't work up the energy. Wants to tell Angel that he's okay now, but the words won't come. And Angel continues to speak his name, and the words are soft and gentle. Then he's lifted into strong arms, cradled and protected from the flames that surround them, as Angel murmurs to him, making his way across the floor. The heat is dying down now, and he can breathe easier as the stars appear.
And all he thinks as the cool air hits his face is that Angel came for him. Angel walked through fire for him. And suddenly, he doesn't feel like letting go anymore.
End MIT: Burnt Offerings
Other Moments In Time can be found here.
