Jul 16, 2006 12:49
This night couldn't be wrose. I felt broken. Drusilla had been taken away from me, dusted by Rory, a former mate, of sorts, to all of us. No bloody longer was he that. Like Angel, he had somehow got a soul, only now, he was killing his friends, which Angel didn't do before he lost his soul again.
So, Angel runs of with Cordelia, like he's not even bothered that Dru had been slain, and I'm left to take on Rory and the little mick with the gun who was with him. I get shot in the face when Dru was killed and then when I go back for them, I get shot again in the chest. Bloody hurt, but didn't matter at this point, not with what had happened to my dark Goddess. Was like living a nightmare, which I didn't like, because I was the one that gave others nightmares, with Drusilla being gone. It was like it couldn't be real, and I found myself wandering back to the hotel, looking for Angel, Cordelia and a plan, in a ton of pain, my mind not working.
I wished that I was drunk, because drunk was much, much more fun than this. I got back to the hotel and before I even looked for Angel and Cordelia, I could sense that they weren't here, and I knelt over the bannister where Drusilla had been killed. The pile of dust was still there. I felt myself shaking and I sobbed uncontrollably, rage building. I found a vase and put her ashes into it. A spell concerning the dark magic's might work in this, but I needed her ashes and I didn't care how she came back, or who brought her back. Didn't care about consequences and knew that she had been sack of hammers before she was gone, so I would take her back any which sodding way that I could get her.
Was only one place to go to get the kind of help that I needed. Sunnydale, a spot that had witnessed major thrashings of my ass, which had saw me get a broken neck and the place where I had teamed up with the slaya, which had turned my ripe, wicked plum against me. One stop along the way and I would be gone. I got into my car and went back to the little mick with the gun's, apartment. Once more, Rory and the mick weren't there, and I didn't have time to hunt for them. I wanted to kill everything in sight, and fed upon a guy walking down the street, savagely breaking his neck and simultaneously, bloody draining him.
I then hopped in my car and headed north towards Sunnyhell. Time was of the essence. I needed to get Drusilla back and there was no more playing nice with the slaya. I had to find the mojo and Sunnydale was the vase. I cried tears of sadness and of bloody anger as I held the vase close to me.
In the vase was my salvation, my life, my Drusilla. She couldn't be gone. I would kill everyone in Sunnydale, and do it with a bullet in my face, if somebody wasn't here to help bring my Dru back. I wasn't asking, I was bloody demanding and I knew of people like Rak who could help me and I knew there had to be rituals to bring back the undead and whatever it took, would happen. There was no other bloody choice for anyone in the town. I would own the sodding berg whether Dru was back with me, or not.
I cried again. She would be back with me. Couldn't think any other way. Couldn't allow failure. Somebody was going to help me bring her back.