Long Hard Road Out of Hell - Willow/Angel - Adult - 3/10
Title: Long Hard Road Out of Hell
Author: claudia6913
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: W/A
Summary: Angel comes back from hell. This is a response to Gabrielle’s ‘Willow/Angel Challenge’ on NHA Forums.
Distribution: NHA and my writing journal, all others please ask.
Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own the characters. Those are owned by Joss and Co. I seek no profit from the use of anything here.
Author’s Notes: The title was taken from the song ‘Long Hard Road Out of Hell’ by Marilyn Manson from the ‘Spawn’ soundtrack.
Chapter 3
“Angel!” Willow cries as she is knocked over by the vampire. His fangs glisten in the moonlight and his yellow eyes bore into her. She closes her eyes and whispers, “Please…no.”
Willow is vaguely aware of the weight of Angel on her. The only thought running through her head at this point is, ‘I deserve this, to die at his hands.’ With her eyes shut she cannot see the mild confusion that crosses Angel’s dazed face, his vampiric features shifting back to human ones. The hunger that had made him want to feed from her vanishes in the breeze, almost as if it was never there.
Slowly he crawls off of her and crouches by the wooden bench near the fireplace and shakes. The room is dreamlike to him in his new found awareness. Nothing seems real, yet he can feel the floor and the breeze that caresses his bare skin, sending prickles of recognition through him. He stares at the slight girl on the floor. The red hair registers in some unknown part of his brain, but it doesn’t make it to his consciousness. She is familiar, but not.
Lying on the floor Willow slowly becomes aware that she is in fact not dead. Opening her eyes slowly, she looks around for Angel. Finding him to her right, she sits up slowly. His intense stare sends shivers down her spine. ‘Why didn’t he kill me?’ Willow thinks.
“Angel,” she says tentatively. The quick start he gives at the sound of her voice startles Willow as well. She gives a short, mirthless laugh at her own fear. “It’s ok,” she says, purposely dropping her voice to an almost whisper, hoping it calms the obviously disoriented vampire. Willow looks at him. Really looks at him. For the first time, she is acutely aware of his emaciated state. His ribs are showing to the point of her being able to count each and every one of them. Angel’s normally pale complexion is ashen, almost sickly.
“What has that trip done to you?” she asks softly. The sound of her own voice seems almost blasphemous after this new revelation. Willow wants so badly to reassure him, to let him know somehow that she is here for him. As she reaches her hand out, he jerks away. Sighing she drops her arm.
“I wish I knew what to do Angel. I should know what to do,” Willow says exasperated with herself. “What do you need? What do you want?”
Angel just looks at her, his face a mask of confusion. She is talking to him, but the words aren’t making sense to ears. They are nothing more then noise to his rattled senses. The smell of her desperation hangs heavy in the air tinged with the very human scent of her.
Standing up, Willow stretches. Angel eyes her warily as she walks over to the corner they had previously occupied, and picks up the packet of blood. Walking slowly, she makes her way closer to Angel. His eyes are wide and fixed upon her every movement. His muscles are tensed and ready for fight or flight.
“It’s ok, Angel. Look, I’m just bringing you something to eat,” Willow says, taking another small step towards him. She can hear soft growling coming from him, his lips curled in a snarl.
“Ok, ok. I’ll just leave it here then,” she says and lays down the small packet a few feet from him. Backing up slowly, she watches as his nose flares, trying to scent what is placed before him.
Feeling comfortable enough to move, with the girl being several feet away from him, he gazes at the object on the floor. Angel is quite unaware of what it is and reaches out tentatively to touch it. Seeing that it poses no danger he picks it up and examines it. The fluid within it looks familiar, yet the casing seems impenetrable.
Standing there, watching, Willow feels a need to say something, tell him what it is, and tell him how to open it. But she is also afraid that any sound from her will frighten him. He is fragile right now, silently looking at everything, yet comprehending almost nothing. Her heart goes out to him and breaks at the same time. ‘Poor Angel,’ Willow thinks. ‘I wish I knew how to help him. It’s all my fault, all of it. I should have known! If I had known maybe I could have done something to free him sooner. Obviously someone had. But who? Who would go in search of Angel and then figure a way to release him? Buffy? I doubt it, at least from what she has said of her little vacation that wasn’t what she was doing. Who then? Not Giles. He is still grieving and angry about what Angelus did to Ms. Calendar. Now’s not the time for this though. I have to get Angel back to his old self, then I can worry about who or what brought him back. Maybe he might know.’
Looking back at Angel, Willow can see that he has figured out the mystery of the little plastic bag. It is drained of every last drop of blood and shredded. He is looking around for more and getting upset at not finding anything.
“I’ve got more, Angel. Can I get you some more?” Willow asks taking a small step. Angel looks up at her as if he had forgotten she was even in the room, which is probably what happened. Walking carefully, she slowly makes her way to the cooler in the shadowed corner and carries it back towards Angel. He watches her closely, but does not growl at her this time. She sets the cooler down a little closer to him and opens the lid, tilting the container to show him the contents.
His movement is so quick that it brings a small yelp from Willow. Instead of going for her, however, he grabs for the blood. She watches him eat this time. The savageness with which he consumes the blood fascinates her. Her mouth gapes, watching with open amazement as he grabs for the fourth bag. She has a brief thought that he shouldn’t eat so much, but it passes as soon as it comes.
Finally sated after the fifth bag, Angel sits back on his haunches and looks around the immense living room before him. He has no idea that he is still stark naked, the chill of the breeze doesn’t faze him. Slowly he gets to his feet.
“So, Angel, what do we do now?” Willow asks him with a slight blush tinting her cheeks.
Author: claudia6913
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: W/A
Summary: Angel comes back from hell. This is a response to Gabrielle’s ‘Willow/Angel Challenge’ on NHA Forums.
Distribution: NHA and my writing journal, all others please ask.
Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own the characters. Those are owned by Joss and Co. I seek no profit from the use of anything here.
Author’s Notes: The title was taken from the song ‘Long Hard Road Out of Hell’ by Marilyn Manson from the ‘Spawn’ soundtrack.
Chapter 3
“Angel!” Willow cries as she is knocked over by the vampire. His fangs glisten in the moonlight and his yellow eyes bore into her. She closes her eyes and whispers, “Please…no.”
Willow is vaguely aware of the weight of Angel on her. The only thought running through her head at this point is, ‘I deserve this, to die at his hands.’ With her eyes shut she cannot see the mild confusion that crosses Angel’s dazed face, his vampiric features shifting back to human ones. The hunger that had made him want to feed from her vanishes in the breeze, almost as if it was never there.
Slowly he crawls off of her and crouches by the wooden bench near the fireplace and shakes. The room is dreamlike to him in his new found awareness. Nothing seems real, yet he can feel the floor and the breeze that caresses his bare skin, sending prickles of recognition through him. He stares at the slight girl on the floor. The red hair registers in some unknown part of his brain, but it doesn’t make it to his consciousness. She is familiar, but not.
Lying on the floor Willow slowly becomes aware that she is in fact not dead. Opening her eyes slowly, she looks around for Angel. Finding him to her right, she sits up slowly. His intense stare sends shivers down her spine. ‘Why didn’t he kill me?’ Willow thinks.
“Angel,” she says tentatively. The quick start he gives at the sound of her voice startles Willow as well. She gives a short, mirthless laugh at her own fear. “It’s ok,” she says, purposely dropping her voice to an almost whisper, hoping it calms the obviously disoriented vampire. Willow looks at him. Really looks at him. For the first time, she is acutely aware of his emaciated state. His ribs are showing to the point of her being able to count each and every one of them. Angel’s normally pale complexion is ashen, almost sickly.
“What has that trip done to you?” she asks softly. The sound of her own voice seems almost blasphemous after this new revelation. Willow wants so badly to reassure him, to let him know somehow that she is here for him. As she reaches her hand out, he jerks away. Sighing she drops her arm.
“I wish I knew what to do Angel. I should know what to do,” Willow says exasperated with herself. “What do you need? What do you want?”
Angel just looks at her, his face a mask of confusion. She is talking to him, but the words aren’t making sense to ears. They are nothing more then noise to his rattled senses. The smell of her desperation hangs heavy in the air tinged with the very human scent of her.
Standing up, Willow stretches. Angel eyes her warily as she walks over to the corner they had previously occupied, and picks up the packet of blood. Walking slowly, she makes her way closer to Angel. His eyes are wide and fixed upon her every movement. His muscles are tensed and ready for fight or flight.
“It’s ok, Angel. Look, I’m just bringing you something to eat,” Willow says, taking another small step towards him. She can hear soft growling coming from him, his lips curled in a snarl.
“Ok, ok. I’ll just leave it here then,” she says and lays down the small packet a few feet from him. Backing up slowly, she watches as his nose flares, trying to scent what is placed before him.
Feeling comfortable enough to move, with the girl being several feet away from him, he gazes at the object on the floor. Angel is quite unaware of what it is and reaches out tentatively to touch it. Seeing that it poses no danger he picks it up and examines it. The fluid within it looks familiar, yet the casing seems impenetrable.
Standing there, watching, Willow feels a need to say something, tell him what it is, and tell him how to open it. But she is also afraid that any sound from her will frighten him. He is fragile right now, silently looking at everything, yet comprehending almost nothing. Her heart goes out to him and breaks at the same time. ‘Poor Angel,’ Willow thinks. ‘I wish I knew how to help him. It’s all my fault, all of it. I should have known! If I had known maybe I could have done something to free him sooner. Obviously someone had. But who? Who would go in search of Angel and then figure a way to release him? Buffy? I doubt it, at least from what she has said of her little vacation that wasn’t what she was doing. Who then? Not Giles. He is still grieving and angry about what Angelus did to Ms. Calendar. Now’s not the time for this though. I have to get Angel back to his old self, then I can worry about who or what brought him back. Maybe he might know.’
Looking back at Angel, Willow can see that he has figured out the mystery of the little plastic bag. It is drained of every last drop of blood and shredded. He is looking around for more and getting upset at not finding anything.
“I’ve got more, Angel. Can I get you some more?” Willow asks taking a small step. Angel looks up at her as if he had forgotten she was even in the room, which is probably what happened. Walking carefully, she slowly makes her way to the cooler in the shadowed corner and carries it back towards Angel. He watches her closely, but does not growl at her this time. She sets the cooler down a little closer to him and opens the lid, tilting the container to show him the contents.
His movement is so quick that it brings a small yelp from Willow. Instead of going for her, however, he grabs for the blood. She watches him eat this time. The savageness with which he consumes the blood fascinates her. Her mouth gapes, watching with open amazement as he grabs for the fourth bag. She has a brief thought that he shouldn’t eat so much, but it passes as soon as it comes.
Finally sated after the fifth bag, Angel sits back on his haunches and looks around the immense living room before him. He has no idea that he is still stark naked, the chill of the breeze doesn’t faze him. Slowly he gets to his feet.
“So, Angel, what do we do now?” Willow asks him with a slight blush tinting her cheeks.