ANGEL: SEASON SIX
Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff. If i did, i'd be alot happier, have a car, and sure as hell wouldnt live here.
The hotel lobby was cold and empty. Months of neglect had welcomed cobwebs and coaxed plaster from the ceiling. Dead, cornflake orange leaves littered the floor. The only sound was the slow -drip, drip, drip- of a man's blood staining the tile. Angel took a step forward, when suddenly his legs gave out under him, and he collapsed in a black and red heap on the floor. Looking up, he grinned through rust-tinged teeth.
"Welcome home."
ONE HOUR EARLIER:
"SPIKE!"
The vampire spun around, his again-tattered black trench coat swooping. He lifted the battle axe in front of him, just barely blocking the swing of a minions sword as the gnashing demon tried to decapitate him. The spiny creature howled.
"Why are these things so......bloody...,,.miserable!" Spike yelled, punctuating his words with a punch to the minion's skull. Angel, too exhausted to answer, simply gutted another demon before ducking another blow, grabbing the offender's legs, and swinging it into the blood-spattered brick wall behind him. A rushing sound filled his ears, and at first Angel thought he was fainting beofre he turned and saw-- the creatures were retreating. Thousands of demons were turning and crawling, scampering, or running away. Angel took the opportunity to slump against the fence behind him, wincing as the metal cut into the open wounds covering his body. Illyria made her way over to Angel, easily reaching out and with a slight twitch of her wrist, snapping the necks of the stragglers. Though she was still strong, she had a blood on her face, perhaps not entirely hers. She also seemed to have a brun on one arm. Half a dozen bodies later, she reached him: "I do not understand this." She ducked suddenly as a lone minion swung a sword from behind her. With a single kick, she sent the creatue reeling through the wall behind her. She turned back to Angel and cocked her head. "Why do the worms retreat? They could easily have destroyed you if they chose to remain."
Angel only shook his head, panting out of habit. He turned to the blonde vampire standing five yards away.
"....And the beatings will continue.....until...the morale....improves!" With a final powerful jab, the creatures skull caved in. Spike sighed with satisfaction and turned around. One eye was bruised and blackened. His lip was split and swollen and he had a gash reaching across his cheekbone up to his ear. He had various cuts about his face, and looked as though he had been ineffectively stabbed thourgh the heart. And he seemed to be limping heavily from a broken leg.
"So. What unlucky git is next?"
Angel stared, dripping blood onto the already crimson pavement.
"Ey....where'd the meat go?" Spike asked. To a stranger he sounded bitterly diappointed. But Angel, after over a hundred years, recognized the concealed relief and exhaustion behind the voice. What'e more, both Illria and Angel could easily see Spike shaking from exhaustion. "Gone." Angel croaked.
"Bloody cowards, is what they are. Swear, if I didn't feel like half a amputee over here, I'd run and....oi...wheres Gunn?"
PRESENT
"So this is the Hyperi-whatsee?"
"It reeks of blood, anger, and betrayal." The old one nodded grimly. "I approve." Spike stared.
"Goody. Well, now that we have the go-ahead of Mistress Frost, let's--"
"Rest." Spike looked up sharply at the authoritative voice of his comrade-in-arms. "I need it. We all need it." The man sighed. "Hell, we don't know what's goin on-- we're no good now. Sleep."
Spike nodded, then winced from the effort. His vision was blurring from is injuries. "Right then. All in favor, lead the way to something soft."
EARLIER
"It is my wish that he has not been slain." Illryia turned her wide eyes to the blood-stained face of the bleached vampire. "I am not sure why." Spike turned to Angel. "Think he made it?"
Angel coughed badly, spitting up blood. "Be a miracle. We barely did, and we're all...super."
Spike nodded. "Well said, Peaches. I'm on the lets-not-resign-ourselves-to-death-just-yet side of it. GUNN!" Silence. Staggering rain drops sounded on the pavement, making dull thumps on flesh. The still-humid air curled itself towards the three cold figures in the dark alleyway. "OI! YOU OUT THERE!?"
Somewhere far away, a groan sounded fom a heap of bodies. Spike rushed towards the voice, pushing bodies of fallen demons aside. "Christ, he's alive. Gunn, you-- Oh. Bloody...hell."
PLEASE REVIEW! even a word or two. sorry no spuffy yet- its comin.