Going On, Part III (Angel, Angel/Wes, R)
Sep. 18th, 2004 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
applecameronTitle: "Going On, Part III"
Author: Apple Cameron, September 2004
Fandom: Angel, the series
Pairing: Angel/Wes
Keywords: Wes Lives!
Spoilers: post-series finale
Dedication: The Versaphile Birthday Project 2004
'Blue' lay, bleeding to death on the ground. It had been an impressive fight. They were overrun while Wes was in the middle of the spell and she'd been a positive dervish.
The good news was something about this plane increased one's natural physical prowess. The bad news was, it wasn't enough. Wes had a very good view of the entire debacle, frozen in a cast circle until he was finished with the spell.
He spoke quickly, cutting ties from this plane to Earth, tidying up inter-dimensional loopholes, trying not to back up. Trying to finish the mission, even if they all died.
Then she was on the ground, and the demon broke the circle by force and it was all over.
"Ah. The wizard-general."
"I'm just a man who knows a few tactics." Wes gurgled. From his vantage point, he could see Angel fighting franticly to break through to them. Spike, next to him, plucked a crossbow out of someone's hands and fired twice, but the bolts bounced off the QQ'lo'un demon's hide.
"Then killing you will merely bring me pleasure", the demon holding Wes by the throat answered.
And squeezed.
"Hey!" Shouted a familiar voice. Faith. "Ugly!" Then there was ripping noise, and Wes looked into the face of a very surprised QQ'lo'un demon, which seemed vaguely oxymoronic, but he wasn't strangling quite so badly now, and then *thump*, they were on the ground in a heap, one dead demon, one Wes, and one Slayer staring aghast at the misshapen heart in her hand.
Blood. Far too much of it. Wes rose to his knees by Blue's side, pulling off his shirt and desperately applying pressure to the gut wound. Her t-shirt was shreds. That wasn't all that was in shreds.
He could smell it, that mix of feces and bile and blood that meant death. So could she.
Faith, arms blue with the demon's blood, dropped to her knees and summed up the battle succinctly, in one swear word: "shit."
"This isn't -- this isn't..." her breath hitched again, and again, "what I wanted."
And then she was gone.
***
It was late, they were tired, and Blue was dead. It was the perfect time for a fight.
"Am I, or am I not, 'running the war' for you?"
"You are." Angel's body language tightened. "And a good general stays behind the front line, not on it. Not in front of it."
"In a magical war, it is impossible to define a front line, much less stay off it."
"You are going to stop putting yourself in harm's way."
"What you're asking for is impossible."
"If you get yourself killed every other month," at this Angel's voice got louder, but still a whisper, "God forbid when there's no one around with the power to do anything about it, then my general is gone. And we are all screwed."
Then he rolled, pinning Wes's hands to the pillows. "You will be gone. That is unacceptable. And you're a hell of a lot more than just the best general I could ever have." Vampire senses had heard. Angel pinned the rest of him with a kiss that left Wes breathless. "No more dying."
Wes could feel the strength that didn't crush his hands to a bloody pulp.
"I don't care how much you miss Fred."
And that made him hurt in new and exciting ways.
Angel let go. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You do not need to be on the front swinging a sword, and the last time you performed a spell in battle was, what, two years ago?" He didn't add, and got yourself killed in the process. "I need you doing the things the average person can't do."
"You are anything but average", Wes protested.
"Even the not-so-average vampire Champion with a soul can't do. And dying isn't one of them."
"Look, this is not the sort of war where generals sit around a conference table a thousand miles away, we're just not built like that. I-- I must take an active role. I must know what's going on and be able to respond."
"I'm not dropping this, W--", Angel swallowed his next word. "If I have to have a cadre of Slayers killing everything in a five mile radius of you --"
"That still won't stop a magical attack."
"Then figure out what will." Angel ended the conversation by kissing him, hard.
Author: Apple Cameron, September 2004
Fandom: Angel, the series
Pairing: Angel/Wes
Keywords: Wes Lives!
Spoilers: post-series finale
Dedication: The Versaphile Birthday Project 2004
'Blue' lay, bleeding to death on the ground. It had been an impressive fight. They were overrun while Wes was in the middle of the spell and she'd been a positive dervish.
The good news was something about this plane increased one's natural physical prowess. The bad news was, it wasn't enough. Wes had a very good view of the entire debacle, frozen in a cast circle until he was finished with the spell.
He spoke quickly, cutting ties from this plane to Earth, tidying up inter-dimensional loopholes, trying not to back up. Trying to finish the mission, even if they all died.
Then she was on the ground, and the demon broke the circle by force and it was all over.
"Ah. The wizard-general."
"I'm just a man who knows a few tactics." Wes gurgled. From his vantage point, he could see Angel fighting franticly to break through to them. Spike, next to him, plucked a crossbow out of someone's hands and fired twice, but the bolts bounced off the QQ'lo'un demon's hide.
"Then killing you will merely bring me pleasure", the demon holding Wes by the throat answered.
And squeezed.
"Hey!" Shouted a familiar voice. Faith. "Ugly!" Then there was ripping noise, and Wes looked into the face of a very surprised QQ'lo'un demon, which seemed vaguely oxymoronic, but he wasn't strangling quite so badly now, and then *thump*, they were on the ground in a heap, one dead demon, one Wes, and one Slayer staring aghast at the misshapen heart in her hand.
Blood. Far too much of it. Wes rose to his knees by Blue's side, pulling off his shirt and desperately applying pressure to the gut wound. Her t-shirt was shreds. That wasn't all that was in shreds.
He could smell it, that mix of feces and bile and blood that meant death. So could she.
Faith, arms blue with the demon's blood, dropped to her knees and summed up the battle succinctly, in one swear word: "shit."
"This isn't -- this isn't..." her breath hitched again, and again, "what I wanted."
And then she was gone.
***
It was late, they were tired, and Blue was dead. It was the perfect time for a fight.
"Am I, or am I not, 'running the war' for you?"
"You are." Angel's body language tightened. "And a good general stays behind the front line, not on it. Not in front of it."
"In a magical war, it is impossible to define a front line, much less stay off it."
"You are going to stop putting yourself in harm's way."
"What you're asking for is impossible."
"If you get yourself killed every other month," at this Angel's voice got louder, but still a whisper, "God forbid when there's no one around with the power to do anything about it, then my general is gone. And we are all screwed."
Then he rolled, pinning Wes's hands to the pillows. "You will be gone. That is unacceptable. And you're a hell of a lot more than just the best general I could ever have." Vampire senses had heard. Angel pinned the rest of him with a kiss that left Wes breathless. "No more dying."
Wes could feel the strength that didn't crush his hands to a bloody pulp.
"I don't care how much you miss Fred."
And that made him hurt in new and exciting ways.
Angel let go. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You do not need to be on the front swinging a sword, and the last time you performed a spell in battle was, what, two years ago?" He didn't add, and got yourself killed in the process. "I need you doing the things the average person can't do."
"You are anything but average", Wes protested.
"Even the not-so-average vampire Champion with a soul can't do. And dying isn't one of them."
"Look, this is not the sort of war where generals sit around a conference table a thousand miles away, we're just not built like that. I-- I must take an active role. I must know what's going on and be able to respond."
"I'm not dropping this, W--", Angel swallowed his next word. "If I have to have a cadre of Slayers killing everything in a five mile radius of you --"
"That still won't stop a magical attack."
"Then figure out what will." Angel ended the conversation by kissing him, hard.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2004-09-19 11:22 am (UTC)Awww, poor Faith. Wes needs to get over his Fred issues. And apparently Angel is the most sensible person out of the lot of them.