Things That I've Lost, Ch. 3 ( X/A, Drama AU )
Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.3: Shells
Author: Loki Fox
Fandom: Btvs/Angel
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?
Summary: Xander finds himself in an awkward situation.
A/N: Holy crap, this piece was a monster to write. Ever worked on just one of those stories before that just wants to fight you tooth and nail for every line you put down? I'm not sure how many times I re-wrote this because it wasn't really working the way I wanted it to, still not sure it does really. Hopefully the next chapters will be less erm...difficult than this one was. Thanks again to all the great response I got from fans, it made sticking with this bearable.
~ Shells ~
“This is it.”
The room is filled with soft golden hues as Angel flicks on a light switch. I step into the newly lit room, wary and hopeful, that I’ll be as easily enlightened. That’s how it’s supposed to work right? The mentally damaged person settles back into their old life and everything starts making sense again. That’s how its supposed to go…but… I don’t feel anything from this place. No flooding images or sudden understanding. Nothing.
It’s just a room.
I look over to Angel who’s standing stiffly next to the bed. “This is really my room?”
“It was.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “ I-I can give you another one if you want. There’s more than enough to go around.”
“No, that’s ok,” I take in the room that reminds me nothing of myself. It feels like a shell, or an afterthought, as if its never really been lived in. Not because it lacks things, which it doesn’t, its lavish in way I’d never imagine for myself, but because it’s so impersonal. Like a toy that’s never been played with; too shiny-too perfect. “This is good.” I say with a fake smile as I jump into the bed. I stare at the ceiling as I try to picture myself here, coming home to this place.
I can’t.
Maybe…maybe I’m just that different, from the other me. The one who’s body I’ve hi-jacked. I tilt my head to look up at my silent new buddy. Deadboy certainly is.
“It’s great,” I say, hoping to clear a bit of the air between us. He looks troubled for some reason. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him, but… I guess I never really did. Maybe troubled is just this Angel’s usual expression around me, sorta like annoyed or indifferent was for the old him.
“Good.” He says, breaking the encroaching silence that had settled over us. “That’s good. I’m glad that your, uh…good”
“Angel?”
“Yeah?” He startles.
“You ok?”
“What?”
“Are you ok?” I repeat slower. “You uh, seem a little jittery. You’re not off the O-neg. or anything are you?”
“I’m not jittery.” He crosses his arms and straightens himself against the wall. “And you’re not making any sense. Off the O-neg?”
“Blood withdrawal?”
I’m guessing by his stumpface that I should elaborate for he of slowness.
“Blood withdrawal, you know, getting a major case of jitters from going without feeding for a long time. Sorta like a junkie, only with a lot more snarling, and well...the blood of course, since you don’t need drugs. Which isn’t to say they need them, like in a life or death, have to have em kinda way…well, unless they're like really crashing, but that’s neither here nor there. We were talking about you and what would happen if you went all A.A. on us all. Which ok, isn’t really…”
“Xander.”
“Huh?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Right.”
We share a smile briefly. He looks as if he’s going to say something but pushes himself off the wall instead, heading for the door.
“Angel?” It comes out loud and awkward.
“Yeah?” He says, turning back to me, his expression hopeful.
“I, um…goodnight.”
Something falls across his eyes. “Goodnight Xander.”
***
My eyes blink and begin to open slowly, taking in the fuzzy darkness of the room and its strange alien shapes that inhabit it.
“Sweet Mother of Gah!” I bellow as I jump out of the bed, my brain kick starting when one of those shadows registers as someone in my room. I feel like my heart is going to blow until the boogeyman’s form takes on a more familiar shape. “Angel!?”
“Sorry.” He steps closer to the bed, backlit by the dim moonlight that filters through one of the large windows.
“Are you trying to scare me to death!?” I brace my arm against the wall and draw in a large gulp of air. “Cuz I think I get enough of that particular form of fun without you tipping in.”
A beat goes by.
“What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” I say when he doesn’t answer my question.
Silence.
“Angel?”
He gives me a look that I’m sure is supposed to mean something along with some kind of weird vampire sign language.
“Your…” More hand gesturing. “Uh…”
“Spit it out already would you.” I bark out, getting annoyed. Who does he think he is anyways-The Midnight Bedmaid?
“Um, your clothes are…”
“My clothes,” I say as I look down.
Oh God.
“Oh God…” I feel my whole body start to burn with embarrassment. “Don’t just stand there! Turn around or something!”
“Right. Sorry, sorry.” He quickly turns away.
“This isn’t happening.” I rummage frantically around the base of the bed. Where the hell are my clothes! “This isn’t happening, this is all just some twisted nightmare that…”
“Xander I didn’t...”
“Not a word Angel.”
“But I…”
“Not listening!” I shout back. Where the hell are my clothes!! “You didn’t see anything. This whole extravagant episode of embarrass the hell out of Xander never happened.”
“You shouldn’t…”
“Nope. We're not going to talk about this. There was no nakedness to be found or gazed upon this night. Got it?.”
“But…”
“Got it?!”
I hear what sounds almost like a laugh. “Got it.”
If the whole ick factor of scraping Angeldust off my naked body didn’t repel me so much I’d soooo stake his ass right now. “Why the hell can’t I find my clothes!”
“Uh, here.” He tosses me the pair of PJs I stole from the dresser from over his shoulder.
“Oh…thanks.”
I quickly don the clothes while deleting all prior offenses from my memory banks.
“I repeat: What the hell are you doing in my bedroom Angel?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Good job on that one. Oh…you can, uh, turn around now.”
“Thanks.”
I stumble for the cord to the lamp but only end up cursing at its evasiveness. A cool hand brushes pass mine and pulls the cord, filling the room with soft orange radiance.
Angel, who also happens to be donned in PJs, which for the record, make him look all puppyish, what with his hair all disheveled . Smiles at me bashfully as he takes a couple steps back.
“Well?” I say, sitting back down on the bed.
“I wanted to…check on you. Make sure everything was ok.” He says as he leans back against the wall, opposite from where I’m sitting.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“What?” He says with what can only be described as gobsmacked written across his face.
“I don’t buy it, you’re up to something.”
“No I’m not.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not!”
“Ok,” I say as I cross my arms. There’s more here then he’s letting on. He never was a good liar, not if you knew what to look for. “So explain to me why you were sitting here, in the dark, making googly eyes at me.”
“I was not making googly eyes at you Xander.” He says in that annoying adult voice that parents lecture their kids with.
“Uh-huh, so you do admit that you’ve been here awhile then.”
“What? I didn’t say that.”
“Ah, but you didn’t deny it either. Same difference.”
“I came here to check up on you.”
“See that’s were you’re lying, or at least, fudging things up a bit. If you did come in here just to see how I was you could have just peeked open the door to see if I was sleeping soundly. Hell, you could have just used your bionic vamp hearing to pick up my heartbeat from outside the door. But you didn’t. I woke up with you on the opposite side of my bed, away from the door. So I’m guessing you were watching me for awhile."
“Am I right then?” I say to his silence.
“I did just want to check in on you,” he sighs. “There was something I wanted to show you, but after I saw that you were sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. But, I…I couldn’t leave.” He looks away from me.
“Oh…” Ok, what am I supposed to say to that? I’m glad you found it necessary to sit and stare at me in the dark? “so…uh, what did you want to show me?”
“It’s not important.” He moves away towards the door.
“Hey,” I say, getting up off the bed. “You already came down here and woke me up, you can’t just not show me now.”
He spares a second to think it over or something I guess, he’s kinda just staring back at me. But whatever is going through his head passes and he gives me a brief nod. “Ok.”
“So, where lies this mystery thing of yours.”
He grins a bit at that one. “Upstairs.”
“Cool.” I say on the trail end of yawn as I give myself a good stretch.
“You look like a kid when you do that.”
I roll my eyes at his chuckle. “Whatever, Deadboy.” I quip as I pass by him and make my way into the hall. “Well...” Is he going to show me this thingymabob of his or stare at me all night? “Angel?”
“Sorry, I just…”
“Yeah?” I say at his pause, hoping he’ll explain why he’s suddenly gone weird on me again.
“...I’ve missed that.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing, c’mon.” He begins walking away and down the hall.
“Hey!” No way, he’s not getting off that easy. I’ve got enough stuff to figure out without him reverting into cryptic asshole mode. “What is it?” I say as I grab on to his arm. He stops but doesn’t say anything. “Angel…”
“I’ve missed hearing you call me that.” He doesn’t turn around.
I let go of his arm as I try to figure out what he means. “Are you…are you talking about me calling you Deadboy?” He doesn’t say anything but I know that’s it. He’s missed me teasing him? “Really? Because you never liked that before, I don’t think. Not unless you call throwing a hissyfit your way of showing you like something.”
He turns to face me, his face serious. “I don’t throw hissyfits.”
I stifle a laugh. “Sure you don’t…” I say as I take a couple steps pass him down the hall, hoping he won’t catch my amusement as I reward myself with a tiny mental jig-Angel, Mr. stick in the mud himself, just said ‘hissyfit’.
“Harris!” he’s suddenly in front of me. “I know what your doing.”
I give him my best innocent face.
“That doesn’t work on me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A few seconds drag on as we stare each other down; a battle of wills he has to know he can’t win. I feel silly, and childish, but it’s nice, more than that; it’s great really. My lip quivers in amusement; who’da thunk Angel actually had a funny bone. Is this…is this part of what Buffy always saw in him? I push the thought away for another time as he suddenly growls, causing me to bust out in laughter as he stalks away and further down the hall.
Xan-man 1. Deadboy nothing.
He waits for me to catch back up as my laughter subsides. “So… Deadboy.” I say with obvious inflection. Weirder things I guess. “What’s this I hear about you having something to show me?”
Author: Loki Fox
Fandom: Btvs/Angel
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?
Summary: Xander finds himself in an awkward situation.
A/N: Holy crap, this piece was a monster to write. Ever worked on just one of those stories before that just wants to fight you tooth and nail for every line you put down? I'm not sure how many times I re-wrote this because it wasn't really working the way I wanted it to, still not sure it does really. Hopefully the next chapters will be less erm...difficult than this one was. Thanks again to all the great response I got from fans, it made sticking with this bearable.
~ Shells ~
“This is it.”
The room is filled with soft golden hues as Angel flicks on a light switch. I step into the newly lit room, wary and hopeful, that I’ll be as easily enlightened. That’s how it’s supposed to work right? The mentally damaged person settles back into their old life and everything starts making sense again. That’s how its supposed to go…but… I don’t feel anything from this place. No flooding images or sudden understanding. Nothing.
It’s just a room.
I look over to Angel who’s standing stiffly next to the bed. “This is really my room?”
“It was.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “ I-I can give you another one if you want. There’s more than enough to go around.”
“No, that’s ok,” I take in the room that reminds me nothing of myself. It feels like a shell, or an afterthought, as if its never really been lived in. Not because it lacks things, which it doesn’t, its lavish in way I’d never imagine for myself, but because it’s so impersonal. Like a toy that’s never been played with; too shiny-too perfect. “This is good.” I say with a fake smile as I jump into the bed. I stare at the ceiling as I try to picture myself here, coming home to this place.
I can’t.
Maybe…maybe I’m just that different, from the other me. The one who’s body I’ve hi-jacked. I tilt my head to look up at my silent new buddy. Deadboy certainly is.
“It’s great,” I say, hoping to clear a bit of the air between us. He looks troubled for some reason. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him, but… I guess I never really did. Maybe troubled is just this Angel’s usual expression around me, sorta like annoyed or indifferent was for the old him.
“Good.” He says, breaking the encroaching silence that had settled over us. “That’s good. I’m glad that your, uh…good”
“Angel?”
“Yeah?” He startles.
“You ok?”
“What?”
“Are you ok?” I repeat slower. “You uh, seem a little jittery. You’re not off the O-neg. or anything are you?”
“I’m not jittery.” He crosses his arms and straightens himself against the wall. “And you’re not making any sense. Off the O-neg?”
“Blood withdrawal?”
I’m guessing by his stumpface that I should elaborate for he of slowness.
“Blood withdrawal, you know, getting a major case of jitters from going without feeding for a long time. Sorta like a junkie, only with a lot more snarling, and well...the blood of course, since you don’t need drugs. Which isn’t to say they need them, like in a life or death, have to have em kinda way…well, unless they're like really crashing, but that’s neither here nor there. We were talking about you and what would happen if you went all A.A. on us all. Which ok, isn’t really…”
“Xander.”
“Huh?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Right.”
We share a smile briefly. He looks as if he’s going to say something but pushes himself off the wall instead, heading for the door.
“Angel?” It comes out loud and awkward.
“Yeah?” He says, turning back to me, his expression hopeful.
“I, um…goodnight.”
Something falls across his eyes. “Goodnight Xander.”
***
My eyes blink and begin to open slowly, taking in the fuzzy darkness of the room and its strange alien shapes that inhabit it.
“Sweet Mother of Gah!” I bellow as I jump out of the bed, my brain kick starting when one of those shadows registers as someone in my room. I feel like my heart is going to blow until the boogeyman’s form takes on a more familiar shape. “Angel!?”
“Sorry.” He steps closer to the bed, backlit by the dim moonlight that filters through one of the large windows.
“Are you trying to scare me to death!?” I brace my arm against the wall and draw in a large gulp of air. “Cuz I think I get enough of that particular form of fun without you tipping in.”
A beat goes by.
“What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” I say when he doesn’t answer my question.
Silence.
“Angel?”
He gives me a look that I’m sure is supposed to mean something along with some kind of weird vampire sign language.
“Your…” More hand gesturing. “Uh…”
“Spit it out already would you.” I bark out, getting annoyed. Who does he think he is anyways-The Midnight Bedmaid?
“Um, your clothes are…”
“My clothes,” I say as I look down.
Oh God.
“Oh God…” I feel my whole body start to burn with embarrassment. “Don’t just stand there! Turn around or something!”
“Right. Sorry, sorry.” He quickly turns away.
“This isn’t happening.” I rummage frantically around the base of the bed. Where the hell are my clothes! “This isn’t happening, this is all just some twisted nightmare that…”
“Xander I didn’t...”
“Not a word Angel.”
“But I…”
“Not listening!” I shout back. Where the hell are my clothes!! “You didn’t see anything. This whole extravagant episode of embarrass the hell out of Xander never happened.”
“You shouldn’t…”
“Nope. We're not going to talk about this. There was no nakedness to be found or gazed upon this night. Got it?.”
“But…”
“Got it?!”
I hear what sounds almost like a laugh. “Got it.”
If the whole ick factor of scraping Angeldust off my naked body didn’t repel me so much I’d soooo stake his ass right now. “Why the hell can’t I find my clothes!”
“Uh, here.” He tosses me the pair of PJs I stole from the dresser from over his shoulder.
“Oh…thanks.”
I quickly don the clothes while deleting all prior offenses from my memory banks.
“I repeat: What the hell are you doing in my bedroom Angel?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Good job on that one. Oh…you can, uh, turn around now.”
“Thanks.”
I stumble for the cord to the lamp but only end up cursing at its evasiveness. A cool hand brushes pass mine and pulls the cord, filling the room with soft orange radiance.
Angel, who also happens to be donned in PJs, which for the record, make him look all puppyish, what with his hair all disheveled . Smiles at me bashfully as he takes a couple steps back.
“Well?” I say, sitting back down on the bed.
“I wanted to…check on you. Make sure everything was ok.” He says as he leans back against the wall, opposite from where I’m sitting.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“What?” He says with what can only be described as gobsmacked written across his face.
“I don’t buy it, you’re up to something.”
“No I’m not.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not!”
“Ok,” I say as I cross my arms. There’s more here then he’s letting on. He never was a good liar, not if you knew what to look for. “So explain to me why you were sitting here, in the dark, making googly eyes at me.”
“I was not making googly eyes at you Xander.” He says in that annoying adult voice that parents lecture their kids with.
“Uh-huh, so you do admit that you’ve been here awhile then.”
“What? I didn’t say that.”
“Ah, but you didn’t deny it either. Same difference.”
“I came here to check up on you.”
“See that’s were you’re lying, or at least, fudging things up a bit. If you did come in here just to see how I was you could have just peeked open the door to see if I was sleeping soundly. Hell, you could have just used your bionic vamp hearing to pick up my heartbeat from outside the door. But you didn’t. I woke up with you on the opposite side of my bed, away from the door. So I’m guessing you were watching me for awhile."
“Am I right then?” I say to his silence.
“I did just want to check in on you,” he sighs. “There was something I wanted to show you, but after I saw that you were sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. But, I…I couldn’t leave.” He looks away from me.
“Oh…” Ok, what am I supposed to say to that? I’m glad you found it necessary to sit and stare at me in the dark? “so…uh, what did you want to show me?”
“It’s not important.” He moves away towards the door.
“Hey,” I say, getting up off the bed. “You already came down here and woke me up, you can’t just not show me now.”
He spares a second to think it over or something I guess, he’s kinda just staring back at me. But whatever is going through his head passes and he gives me a brief nod. “Ok.”
“So, where lies this mystery thing of yours.”
He grins a bit at that one. “Upstairs.”
“Cool.” I say on the trail end of yawn as I give myself a good stretch.
“You look like a kid when you do that.”
I roll my eyes at his chuckle. “Whatever, Deadboy.” I quip as I pass by him and make my way into the hall. “Well...” Is he going to show me this thingymabob of his or stare at me all night? “Angel?”
“Sorry, I just…”
“Yeah?” I say at his pause, hoping he’ll explain why he’s suddenly gone weird on me again.
“...I’ve missed that.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing, c’mon.” He begins walking away and down the hall.
“Hey!” No way, he’s not getting off that easy. I’ve got enough stuff to figure out without him reverting into cryptic asshole mode. “What is it?” I say as I grab on to his arm. He stops but doesn’t say anything. “Angel…”
“I’ve missed hearing you call me that.” He doesn’t turn around.
I let go of his arm as I try to figure out what he means. “Are you…are you talking about me calling you Deadboy?” He doesn’t say anything but I know that’s it. He’s missed me teasing him? “Really? Because you never liked that before, I don’t think. Not unless you call throwing a hissyfit your way of showing you like something.”
He turns to face me, his face serious. “I don’t throw hissyfits.”
I stifle a laugh. “Sure you don’t…” I say as I take a couple steps pass him down the hall, hoping he won’t catch my amusement as I reward myself with a tiny mental jig-Angel, Mr. stick in the mud himself, just said ‘hissyfit’.
“Harris!” he’s suddenly in front of me. “I know what your doing.”
I give him my best innocent face.
“That doesn’t work on me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A few seconds drag on as we stare each other down; a battle of wills he has to know he can’t win. I feel silly, and childish, but it’s nice, more than that; it’s great really. My lip quivers in amusement; who’da thunk Angel actually had a funny bone. Is this…is this part of what Buffy always saw in him? I push the thought away for another time as he suddenly growls, causing me to bust out in laughter as he stalks away and further down the hall.
Xan-man 1. Deadboy nothing.
He waits for me to catch back up as my laughter subsides. “So… Deadboy.” I say with obvious inflection. Weirder things I guess. “What’s this I hear about you having something to show me?”