Chapter Text
Feral
by Lilithangel
Pain and hunger, always they were there pushing him on deeper into the dark. Above was where the pain had come from where the bad had happened, so he kept travelling down. Until he no longer knew who he was or what he was, and the pain eased
even though the hunger was still there. There were creatures down here that eased his hunger so he stayed with the skittering chattering things and forgot everything.
* * * * *
Nothing had changed in L.A after the battle. Sure the Wolfram & Hart building had collapsed on itself, but that just left a new empty lot for a hungry developer to move in on.
Vampires and demons continued to prey on the foolish and unsuspecting, and Angel continued his quest for redemption. Even if he no longer understood why or even believed it was real anymore.
He didn't know what he had really expected to happen, something more dramatic maybe. Instead the sun rose over the carnage in the alley and he fled to the Hyperion to wait out the killer light. When darkness fell again everything was gone. There weren't even the bodies of the fallen for him to mourn for.
He worked alone now, unwilling to allow any others to get close just so that he could watch them die. He had been the only one to walk out of the alley and every step away hurt more than the wounds on his body. The voices of the dead replaying in his mind reminding him of what he had lost.
Cordelia who never gave up on him, using her last moments on earth to remind him of his mission. Wesley who tried so hard to do what was right without having the darkness in his soul to cope with his choices. Fred who only wanted to stay and be happy, and the shell that remained she too was gone now in a blaze of power that brought down the dragon.
Lindsey, betrayed at the last taking the heart of another in death. Angel knew he would never see Lorne again and could only hope one day the Host would forgive himself for what Angel asked of him. Gunn who fought to the end never backing down to the evil that surrounded them despite his fall from grace.
Spike his thorn, his constant reminder of what he was, the eternal annoyance who challenged him at every turn and stood by him to the end. Eyes that saw too much and mind that understood more than Angel ever wanted him to know. Spike had been under the dragon when it fell and this time the blond had not gotten back up. Angel hadn't seen it happen, hadn't felt him go, but the silence told him.
Now Angel's days were silent and his nights punctuated with the screams of victims and the fallen. He didn't stay around for the gratitude anymore not wanting the hollow thanks to dull the voices of the dead.
He had left the Hyperion and moved into the small basement apartment that Spike had lived in. It was dark and squalid and a constant reminder to Angel of what he had thrown away with his grand futile gestures.
He had been approached once by a representative of the Watchers Council. He had thanked Andrew for his concern and thrown the boy out. Nobody else had contacted him, but at least Andrew could take the news of Spike's new demise to people who might care. He stayed away from Connor too content to let his son live a semi normal life. The things they had said before the building collapsed had been enough.
He had no connection to the Powers now and didn't want one. Evil was easy to find and would always return so he had plenty to fight and forget for a few moments.
Couldn't stay in the down place the hunger was too great. Forced to come closer to where the pain was finding a place that felt almost familiar full of dust and space. But there were more skittering and chattering here and the underneath was warm and better than down. It was a safe place.
He had ignored the Hyperion not caring that it was being vandalised or when the crack dealers moved in. Humans were welcome to their own evil he couldn't protect them from that. He ignored the stories about the ghosts and noises that chased the dealers out again grateful on one level that he didn't have to care enough to get rid of them.
When the street people began to talk of a wild creature and sounds of whimpered pain as well as howls of anger he was forced to pay attention. He didn't want to go back into the past again, but he really had no choice.
Stepping over the threshold Angel stared at damage the human detritus had inflicted on the grand old lady. Spray paint on the walls and the smell of various human releases everywhere. Someone had even managed to break the huge reception desk shattering the wooden surface and scorching the finish off.
All the seats in the lobby had been torn to shreds, but it looked as if someone had tried to tidy things up. The human leavings had been pushed into corners and there weren't even any rats lurking in the piles.
All the windows in the lobby were broken allowing the street lights to shed a sickly relief on the destruction. It was silent, no suggestion of the noises reported by the others. Instead there was a sense of waiting and watching that he couldn't pin down.
Stay still, keep quiet. Something was there in the darkness something strong. Cannot fight can only hide and hope it cannot smell or sense well. Fight if it comes close but only if it comes close.
Angel followed the travelled pathways to the door that led down to the basement. He paused uncertain if he could face the memories that were down there. His last incarnation as Angelus, the confrontation with his son the air would be thick with them. There was another scent on the air that drew him forward and down the stairs. Something almost familiar.
Angel stopped at the foot of the stairs to let his eyes adjust to the gloom, and to let his other senses scan for threats as well. There was definitely something in the basement, masked by layers of dirt and other things he couldn't identify. He moved further into the room listening and looking. Whatever was in there was being very quiet.
A cut off growl was all the warning Angel got as something crashed into him. There were two yelps of pain as they tumbled to the floor, Angel's and whatever it was that hit him. Angel had a glimpse of ragged clothes, tangled hair and dirt
encrusted skin before the creature leapt up and disappeared awkwardly down to the sewers.
By the time he picked himself up and got to the entrance the mystery was gone. It hadn't really tried to hurt him his fall to the ground startled the cry out. The creature on the other hand appeared to have been hurt which possibly explained its behaviour. There was still the sense of familiar and Angel wracked his memories to try and match it.
With a sigh Angel headed down into the sewers determined to solve the mystery.
It looked like the pain remembered the pain. Too close, too close. Burning and pain. Hide.
The further Angel tracked the scent the more certain he was that he recognised it, but his mind refused to accept what his senses were telling him. He had to find it and see really see to believe it was not just another ghost of his mind.
Hunted, hiding, lead it away from home away from safe place. Double back and return to safe place.
Angel realised he was being led in a circle. Whatever he was tracking it was trying to get back to the Hyperion without letting him know it. Angel decided to let the creature think it had succeeded and wait for it back at the hotel. He was certain it would end up back there.
Gone, familiar was gone. Back to safe place, back to warmth. Forget familiar thing and be safe again.
This time Angel was ready and when the entrance to the sewer opened he pounced and pulled the creature kicking and howling into the basement. Before it could escape him Angel threw it into the cage in the corner and slammed the door. The creature screamed with rage and fear throwing itself against the bars trying to escape. Grunts and growls filled the air but no words. Angel watched impassively as it continued to throw itself against the cage until, blessedly it struck its head against a bar and collapsed onto the floor.
When Angel was certain it was truly unconscious and not feigning injury to fool him he opened the cage and went inside. Tattered remnants of clothing hung off the emaciated frame. Bare feet were crusted with grime and it was impossible to identify the colour of the tangled matted hair. Angel bent down and brushed the hair aside to reveal what he knew as soon as he had grabbed the creature. This pitiful wild thing was Spike and Angel didn't know what he was going to do about it.
TBC...