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tamingthemuseTitle: A Powerful Requiem
Fandom: Angel
Prompt: #398: Requiem
Warnings: Corgel Het, Character Deaths
Rating: G/K
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author.
He sings for them each as they fall. He's watched them up until this point, praying and still caring for them, and now that the end has come, he finds he still can not turn away his soulful, yellow eyes. His voice is full of mourning as each drops in turn, every song equally as sorrowful for they have all come to mean so much to him.
He always considered Wesley a friend, even when he attacked him that one time. Fred has always been sweet, and he knew Charles always had his back when he was still with them, no matter how green and scaly the former street fighter might think it. Angel, of course, was the best friend a Demon could ever have, and through him, he's come to care for the others he never met: for Buffy and for Willow, for little Dawn and Xander, too, even for Spike and Rupert.
He has to smile when he thinks of Rupert's younger days. They could have really torn up some road together, he and the dark-magic-flaunting-but-still-utterly-styling Ripper. Of course, there had to be a reason why Rupert was known as the Ripper, and he wonders each time, too, if he might have ripped the very green flesh from his body with just one look because of what he is.
He is a Demon. He'll always be a Demon, even now when surrounded by bright lights and fluffy, white clouds. But he is still a man. He is a friend who hurts for his friends and would bleed for them, too, if he could. He is a man who cries for every one he sees fall.
They come to him, one at a time. Cordelia was already waiting for him when he first reached the pearly gates. She introduced him to Doyle and Dennis, and the four of them have been inseparable ever since, inseparable until now as others join them.
It is his voice that first greets them, singing, through the darkness, a powerful requiem that leads them home to them. It is his soulful cry that guides them through the dark and into the light. He cries as he sings, but he never misses a note in his warble. His job is far too important. He has to help his friends, and he does until the very last one is home.
"Angelcakes," he cries, breaking his song for the first time in centuries. He holds out his arms and is rewarded when his old friend embraces him. Then he steps aside. He's always been one to understand how important he is or is not to those around him, and now, although he is still important, there are others who are more so, one in particular.
Two women stand before Angel, each with tears brimming in her eyes, but when Angel takes the dark-haired beauty into his arms first and it is the blonde's turn to turn away, Lorne weeps openly. He is joined by Dennis and Doyle, each as sad and yet as happy as he. "She finally got her Prince," he whispers. They nod, their hands on his elbow and shoulder respectively, and at last, Lorne gets to sing a different tune.
Every one of them is home now. There will be no further journeys for them. It is time for others to save the world, but they . . . They finally have their rewards. Angel has his Shanshu, Cordelia has her Prince, and Lorne . . . Why, he has his friends, every one of them. He sings a ballad of love and watches, smiling, as Angel sweeps Cordelia into a dance across the clouds.
The End
Fandom: Angel
Prompt: #398: Requiem
Warnings: Corgel Het, Character Deaths
Rating: G/K
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author.
He sings for them each as they fall. He's watched them up until this point, praying and still caring for them, and now that the end has come, he finds he still can not turn away his soulful, yellow eyes. His voice is full of mourning as each drops in turn, every song equally as sorrowful for they have all come to mean so much to him.
He always considered Wesley a friend, even when he attacked him that one time. Fred has always been sweet, and he knew Charles always had his back when he was still with them, no matter how green and scaly the former street fighter might think it. Angel, of course, was the best friend a Demon could ever have, and through him, he's come to care for the others he never met: for Buffy and for Willow, for little Dawn and Xander, too, even for Spike and Rupert.
He has to smile when he thinks of Rupert's younger days. They could have really torn up some road together, he and the dark-magic-flaunting-but-still-utterly-styling Ripper. Of course, there had to be a reason why Rupert was known as the Ripper, and he wonders each time, too, if he might have ripped the very green flesh from his body with just one look because of what he is.
He is a Demon. He'll always be a Demon, even now when surrounded by bright lights and fluffy, white clouds. But he is still a man. He is a friend who hurts for his friends and would bleed for them, too, if he could. He is a man who cries for every one he sees fall.
They come to him, one at a time. Cordelia was already waiting for him when he first reached the pearly gates. She introduced him to Doyle and Dennis, and the four of them have been inseparable ever since, inseparable until now as others join them.
It is his voice that first greets them, singing, through the darkness, a powerful requiem that leads them home to them. It is his soulful cry that guides them through the dark and into the light. He cries as he sings, but he never misses a note in his warble. His job is far too important. He has to help his friends, and he does until the very last one is home.
"Angelcakes," he cries, breaking his song for the first time in centuries. He holds out his arms and is rewarded when his old friend embraces him. Then he steps aside. He's always been one to understand how important he is or is not to those around him, and now, although he is still important, there are others who are more so, one in particular.
Two women stand before Angel, each with tears brimming in her eyes, but when Angel takes the dark-haired beauty into his arms first and it is the blonde's turn to turn away, Lorne weeps openly. He is joined by Dennis and Doyle, each as sad and yet as happy as he. "She finally got her Prince," he whispers. They nod, their hands on his elbow and shoulder respectively, and at last, Lorne gets to sing a different tune.
Every one of them is home now. There will be no further journeys for them. It is time for others to save the world, but they . . . They finally have their rewards. Angel has his Shanshu, Cordelia has her Prince, and Lorne . . . Why, he has his friends, every one of them. He sings a ballad of love and watches, smiling, as Angel sweeps Cordelia into a dance across the clouds.
The End
