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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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Gloomy Voices

Summary:

written for Twisting's FfA.   After Angel's return in s3 BtVS, he gets a new adviser on penance and atonement.  One-shot crossover, no pairing.

Work Text:




Angel staggered away from the own, his mind filled with the images of the many people that he... that Angelus... that he had wronged. Killed. Tortured. Lives destroyed, hopes and dreams ruined.

"I'm a monster," he whispered. He didn't understand how he was back here, back in Sunnydale. He'd hurt so many people here, people who'd accepted him into their lives.

"Depends on how you define a monster." The somber voice emerged from a nearby clump of thistles.

"Who..?" Angel blinked. Sunnydale might be the home of the Hellmouth, but a talking patch of thistles seemed a bit too strange.

"Me. Nobody of particular importance." Slowly, a figure emerged. Reaching almost to Angel's hips, a small, purple creature resembling a child's toy donkey looked at him, with big, dark eyes. "I expect that you're feeling rather miserable about now. Listening to voices, seeing the images of what happened before, things that shouldn't have been done. Live ended, homes wrecked, hopes crushed... that sort of thing."

Angel nodded, too stunned for words. There was something vaguely familiar about the creature, though he couldn't quite place it.

"That would be why you've found yourself a nicely miserable area to lurk and brood. I've been watching," the purple donkey-like creature added.

"Why?" Angel asked, feeling rather confused. He'd been thinking about facing the sunrise, ending his miserable existence.

"I've been there. Guilt, brooding, the desire to suffer in penance..." The creature shook his head. "How does cow's blood compare to eating thistles as a form of self-deprivation?"

"It tastes terrible." Angel blinked, shaking his head. "Thistles?"

"Sharp, thorny leaves, and not much flavor," the creature offered glumly.

"err... do you know who I am?" Angel asked.

"Angelus, a vampire who spread fear, chaos, and bloodshed across Europe and Asia for over a century. But you go by Angel now," the creature commented, leaning against a tree. "Call me Eeyore."

"Eeyore? That's..." Angel shook his head again. Maybe he was still asleep, that last batch of blood had tasted a bit funny.

"Not the name I was first given, of course. And thistles don't have nearly the same crunch to them as bones. Whistler was supposed to do better with you, if he has the bad taste to come back, I'll save you one of his," Eeyore muttered. "They swore that after me, they never wanted anyone to brood so much over what's done and past."

"I was cursed with my soul, with a conscience and guilt after being a vampire for over a century! I fell in love with a Slayer, and nearly ended the world!" Angel was glaring, and part of him wanted to know if he'd just started shouting over his right to brood and be miserable. This was surely one very strange dream...

Eeyore just nodded. "I destroyed a couple cities, and set of a nice wave of plagues. I know how it feels to brood and be guilty. But it doesn't change anything."

"plague?" Angel asked in a very small voice.

"Mmm-hmm. Bubonic. Sort of tastes like licorice in the bodies," Eeyore explained. "Your soul's not leaving again, and if you really want to brood, come with me and I'll teach you. If I could stay gloomy with that bouncing Tigger and that bear... You need a bit more privacy to really brood. None of that suicidal stuff either, if you want to make yourself suffer it's too fast."

Fascinated in spite of himself, Angel found himself following the small creature into the woods. If this wasn't a dream, he had the feeling that everything was about to change. "So, does this mean I shouldn't try to make a difference anymore?"

"Didn't say that," Eeyore shook his head. "But not here. This place... too much sunshine, it's bad for the digestion. Whistler fumbled by sending you here. Now it's my turn."

end Gloomy Voices.