Broken Wings
Chapter 1
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: All
Word Count: 1,916
Rating: FR-R
Summary: Time for our heros to lay low after the big battle.
Author's Notes: Spuffy centric/Character death
The building had seen better days. It was the kind of place even bums steered clear of. The façade had decayed to such an extent that the windows looked like shapeless holes which revealed nothing of the interior. It was to this decrepit building that the four exhausted champions turned their steps.
Gunn balked at the stoop.
“Yo…I don’t know about this. I mean this place looks about two steps from death anyway. What’s to stop the partners from just sucking the whole place into the ground?”
“Nothing,” Angel replied quietly. “But we need a place to stay. I’m hoping they won’t notice us here.”
Spike sniffed the air in a predatory way. “That’ll be easy enough. The whole bloody place smells like three week old piss. If nothing else, that’ll keep all but the most mindless of demons away.” He shook his head. “And even those will have trouble sniffing us out.”
Angel looked down at Gunn. The young man had only been able to go so far before his wounds made it impossible for him to go further. Angel was practically holding him up, and the smell of his blood was thick in the vampire’s nostrils. Gunn would not survive the night without help.
“Spike, take Gunn,” Angel said softly. “I’m going for help.”
Gunn blinked blearily. “There’s no help for it, man. I’m not a fool you know.” He clutched his side in sudden pain and inhaled sharply. “It’s not looking good. Can’t say this is how I pictured it, though. I always thought I’d go out fighting.”
“You will,” Angel said harshly. “But not if you don’t let Spike help you inside, while I go get a doctor.”
“You actually think you can get one into this hovel.” Gunn tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.
“More than a few of them owe me favors. I’m sure I can find one or two who’ll be willing to help.” Angel shifted Gunn into Spike’s waiting arms. Spike, said nothing, but refused to look at Gunn. He held the man up as though he were a sack of garbage that was best not touched.
“Right, you three get inside. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
Illyria stood mutely in the door way and nodded.
“Pick up some beer or something, huh big guy? We should at least celebrate.” Gunn chuckled a bit, but sagged in Spike’s arms.
“Just hang in there.” Angel touched Gunn’s arm lightly. “We’ve lost enough today.” And with that, he turned and moved swiftly down the street towards the more brightly lit areas of town.
“Right,” Spike said, disdain in his voice. “We sit home and wait like the good little housewives we are.”
“You know that’s not what this is about,” Gunn said quietly.
“Look, you can follow the poofter like blind little kittens if you want to, but I’ve been around long enough to know better.” Spike hauled Gunn roughly up the short steps of the stoop, making him yelp in pain. “Always playen’ the hero. Bloody bastard. If he gets himself killed out there and leaves me to defend your worthless hide in this rat hole…”
“You’ll do what?” Illyria asked calmly. “There is nothing any of us can do now save rest. It would be wise to go inside now.”
“Whatever, Blue. But you can’t tell me the thought of going out like that doesn’t get under your skin.” Spike snarled as he roughly guided Gunn up the last few steps.
“I have no intention of dying.” She turned and walked through the gaping hole that had once been a doorway, and cast her final remark over her shoulder. “And you are already dead, so what is there to fear?”
Finding no way to argue with her, Spike merely growled and followed behind her, supporting Gunn at his side.
* * *
The room at the top of the stairs held a tangible darkness, made all the more menacing by the smell of blood and impending death. It did, however, have several discarded blankets, and other bits of rubbish, which would serve as a much more comfortable deathbed than the hard floors downstairs. Spike lay Gunn down on a makeshift bed of old, moldy blankets. Many of his wounds continued to bleed freely, making shiny puddles which twinkled in the darkness.
In the corner of the room, Spike lit another cigarette.
“Un-uh, man,” Gunn wheezed. “Take that shit outside.
“Then who would be here to hold your hand and say things like ‘Oh, you’re looking fine’ and ‘everything’s gonna be tip top in no time.’” Spike rolled his eyes in the darkness.
“Don’t patronize me. Aren’t you supposed to not smoke around dying people or something?”
“That’s only if they’re on oxygen.” Spike puffed with relish. “The way I figure it, a little more smoke isn’t gonna make any difference, far as you’re concerned.”
“Anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner is terrible?” Gunn attempted to raise his arm, to emphasize his point, but lowered it quickly with a sharp inhalation of pain.
“Not like I’ve had a lotta practice now is it? Most people are me are just…” he shrugged and smiled wickedly, “dead.”
“You’re very comforting.” Gunn breathed deeply through his nose, straining to keep his voice normal. “Just take it outside, will ya?”
“Awwww, you afraid of the Big Bad, are ya?” He leaned over Gunn’s prone form and smirked.
“No! You’re just pissing me off, now get out!” Gunn struck at Spike’s arm feebly.
“Fine by me,” he growled. “I’ll just be disappointed when I don’t get to watch you die.” He jabbed Gunn sharply in the side, causing him to cry out, as stars burst behind his eyes.
Spike slammed the door behind him, leaving Gunn moaning and whimpering in the darkness. Lancing pain ran up and down his side, renewing pains that had begun to diminish ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, Gunn wished he would just die. He could think of nothing in his life worth enduring such pain for. He couldn’t even blame Spike for his hatred. Each attack the vampire made on him was entirely deserved, and he knew it. He closed his eyes, welcoming Death.
A piece of the darkness separated itself from the wall. It moved across the floor with feline grace, radiating power and tension with each quiet step. It crouched over Gunn’s body without disturbing his repose.
Gunn drew in a remarkably calm breath and held it for a moment. Letting it go, he whispered quietly, “Death…”
A deep, yet innately feminine voice spoke close to his ear. “I am here.”
He gasped and opened his yes. A young woman gazed back at him, her face grim. Her eyes shone brightly in the darkness. “I am here for you,” she whispered.
Gunn grunted slightly as he felt a blade punch into his stomach, and let out a strangled grown as she twisted it. So close to death already, blackness gathered around his sight almost instantly. He watched as the figure stood, wiping his blood from her weapon on a bit of refuse from the floor. He smiled, intending to thank her.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Spike strode resolutely into the room.
“Look alive…or, well, as alive as you can. Our fearless leader has returned.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he walked briskly across the room. “Got a doctor and everything.” The vampire froze. The smell of death was even heavier in the room and Spike could see the glow of eyes looking back at him, widened in surprise.
Without warning, the creature attacked. She launched her blade at Spike’s head with amazing accuracy and force. As he moved out of its path, he felt its passage across his cheek. A loud thud resounded through the room as the weapon embedded itself in the wall behind him. In the meantime, the stranger had fled to the window. Spike stared, open mouthed, as wings sprouted from its back. With one backward glance, the creature leapt from the window and escaped.
Almost as an afterthought, Spike leaned over Gunn. He could smell the fresh blood leaking from his gut, and could almost see death stealing over the young man’s features. And yet, still, he clung to life.
“What was it?” Spike asked urgently. He gripped Gunn’s head, forcing him to focus. “What did this?”
Gunn smiled. “Lady Death,” he whispered. His eyes closed and he exhaled. He did not breathe again.
Angel walked in quietly and eyed the tableau in front of him. He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t have much hope for him, but I had thought if he could just hold on until a doctor could get here…” He trailed off and fell silent for a long moment.
“He was stronger than I thought, I’ll give him that,” Spike admitted grudgingly, releasing Gunn’s head and standing with a dissatisfied sigh. “And he might have made it, but it would seem someone had other ideas.”
Angel shook his head, in a confused sort of way. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Spike said, “he didn’t die. He was killed.” Spike sauntered over to the wall, still limping slightly. Even advanced vampire healing could not erase the traces of the battle in so short a time. He stopped just short of the place where the attack’s knife protruded from the wall. Gripping it tightly, he heaved it free of the plaster, and held it up for inspection.
“But who? Was it one of the senior partners’ demons?”
“Dunno,” Spike said, noncommittally. “Barely got a chance to look at it before it was out the window.”
“Wait a minute,” Angel growled. “Are you telling me you weren’t in here? What the hell where you doing?”
“Look, I am not here to play nursemaid to some waste of space backstabber!”
“What are you here for then, Spike? No one forced you to be in this fight. You don’t even care about any of this. I have lost friends tonight, and you’re acting like it’s nothing more than some goddamn inconvenience!” Angel drew in an unnecessary breath to calm himself.
“Well it is a bloody inconvenience, if you ask me. It’s not like he was going to make it anyway.” Spike huffed indignantly, gripping the knife in his hand tightly.
“That’s not the point…” Angel shook his head in frustration and walked slowly to Gunn’s side. He knelt beside the young man’s body. “It just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, I don’t smell even a whiff of demon in here. How could it be possible?”
“I don’t know. I was in here before it even got out, and I couldn’t smell it. But I saw it, just before it jumped out the window.” Spike tossed a glance over his shoulder, expecting Angel to disbelieve him. His sire merely shook his head again.
“Did he say anything?”
“Yeah,” Spikes face took on a confused look. “I asked him what the demon was. He told me it was Lady Death.”
Angel reached out his hand and Spike laid the knife on his palm. He gripped the handle tightly and stared at it for a long quiet moment.
“I guess there really isn’t a place to hide then,” he whispered. “They’ll find us wherever we go.” He sounded defeated. Even desperate. He looked at Gunn’s body, sprawled on the floor and said, almost to himself, “Lady Death…”
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: All
Word Count: 1,916
Rating: FR-R
Summary: Time for our heros to lay low after the big battle.
Author's Notes: Spuffy centric/Character death
The building had seen better days. It was the kind of place even bums steered clear of. The façade had decayed to such an extent that the windows looked like shapeless holes which revealed nothing of the interior. It was to this decrepit building that the four exhausted champions turned their steps.
Gunn balked at the stoop.
“Yo…I don’t know about this. I mean this place looks about two steps from death anyway. What’s to stop the partners from just sucking the whole place into the ground?”
“Nothing,” Angel replied quietly. “But we need a place to stay. I’m hoping they won’t notice us here.”
Spike sniffed the air in a predatory way. “That’ll be easy enough. The whole bloody place smells like three week old piss. If nothing else, that’ll keep all but the most mindless of demons away.” He shook his head. “And even those will have trouble sniffing us out.”
Angel looked down at Gunn. The young man had only been able to go so far before his wounds made it impossible for him to go further. Angel was practically holding him up, and the smell of his blood was thick in the vampire’s nostrils. Gunn would not survive the night without help.
“Spike, take Gunn,” Angel said softly. “I’m going for help.”
Gunn blinked blearily. “There’s no help for it, man. I’m not a fool you know.” He clutched his side in sudden pain and inhaled sharply. “It’s not looking good. Can’t say this is how I pictured it, though. I always thought I’d go out fighting.”
“You will,” Angel said harshly. “But not if you don’t let Spike help you inside, while I go get a doctor.”
“You actually think you can get one into this hovel.” Gunn tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.
“More than a few of them owe me favors. I’m sure I can find one or two who’ll be willing to help.” Angel shifted Gunn into Spike’s waiting arms. Spike, said nothing, but refused to look at Gunn. He held the man up as though he were a sack of garbage that was best not touched.
“Right, you three get inside. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
Illyria stood mutely in the door way and nodded.
“Pick up some beer or something, huh big guy? We should at least celebrate.” Gunn chuckled a bit, but sagged in Spike’s arms.
“Just hang in there.” Angel touched Gunn’s arm lightly. “We’ve lost enough today.” And with that, he turned and moved swiftly down the street towards the more brightly lit areas of town.
“Right,” Spike said, disdain in his voice. “We sit home and wait like the good little housewives we are.”
“You know that’s not what this is about,” Gunn said quietly.
“Look, you can follow the poofter like blind little kittens if you want to, but I’ve been around long enough to know better.” Spike hauled Gunn roughly up the short steps of the stoop, making him yelp in pain. “Always playen’ the hero. Bloody bastard. If he gets himself killed out there and leaves me to defend your worthless hide in this rat hole…”
“You’ll do what?” Illyria asked calmly. “There is nothing any of us can do now save rest. It would be wise to go inside now.”
“Whatever, Blue. But you can’t tell me the thought of going out like that doesn’t get under your skin.” Spike snarled as he roughly guided Gunn up the last few steps.
“I have no intention of dying.” She turned and walked through the gaping hole that had once been a doorway, and cast her final remark over her shoulder. “And you are already dead, so what is there to fear?”
Finding no way to argue with her, Spike merely growled and followed behind her, supporting Gunn at his side.
* * *
The room at the top of the stairs held a tangible darkness, made all the more menacing by the smell of blood and impending death. It did, however, have several discarded blankets, and other bits of rubbish, which would serve as a much more comfortable deathbed than the hard floors downstairs. Spike lay Gunn down on a makeshift bed of old, moldy blankets. Many of his wounds continued to bleed freely, making shiny puddles which twinkled in the darkness.
In the corner of the room, Spike lit another cigarette.
“Un-uh, man,” Gunn wheezed. “Take that shit outside.
“Then who would be here to hold your hand and say things like ‘Oh, you’re looking fine’ and ‘everything’s gonna be tip top in no time.’” Spike rolled his eyes in the darkness.
“Don’t patronize me. Aren’t you supposed to not smoke around dying people or something?”
“That’s only if they’re on oxygen.” Spike puffed with relish. “The way I figure it, a little more smoke isn’t gonna make any difference, far as you’re concerned.”
“Anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner is terrible?” Gunn attempted to raise his arm, to emphasize his point, but lowered it quickly with a sharp inhalation of pain.
“Not like I’ve had a lotta practice now is it? Most people are me are just…” he shrugged and smiled wickedly, “dead.”
“You’re very comforting.” Gunn breathed deeply through his nose, straining to keep his voice normal. “Just take it outside, will ya?”
“Awwww, you afraid of the Big Bad, are ya?” He leaned over Gunn’s prone form and smirked.
“No! You’re just pissing me off, now get out!” Gunn struck at Spike’s arm feebly.
“Fine by me,” he growled. “I’ll just be disappointed when I don’t get to watch you die.” He jabbed Gunn sharply in the side, causing him to cry out, as stars burst behind his eyes.
Spike slammed the door behind him, leaving Gunn moaning and whimpering in the darkness. Lancing pain ran up and down his side, renewing pains that had begun to diminish ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, Gunn wished he would just die. He could think of nothing in his life worth enduring such pain for. He couldn’t even blame Spike for his hatred. Each attack the vampire made on him was entirely deserved, and he knew it. He closed his eyes, welcoming Death.
A piece of the darkness separated itself from the wall. It moved across the floor with feline grace, radiating power and tension with each quiet step. It crouched over Gunn’s body without disturbing his repose.
Gunn drew in a remarkably calm breath and held it for a moment. Letting it go, he whispered quietly, “Death…”
A deep, yet innately feminine voice spoke close to his ear. “I am here.”
He gasped and opened his yes. A young woman gazed back at him, her face grim. Her eyes shone brightly in the darkness. “I am here for you,” she whispered.
Gunn grunted slightly as he felt a blade punch into his stomach, and let out a strangled grown as she twisted it. So close to death already, blackness gathered around his sight almost instantly. He watched as the figure stood, wiping his blood from her weapon on a bit of refuse from the floor. He smiled, intending to thank her.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Spike strode resolutely into the room.
“Look alive…or, well, as alive as you can. Our fearless leader has returned.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he walked briskly across the room. “Got a doctor and everything.” The vampire froze. The smell of death was even heavier in the room and Spike could see the glow of eyes looking back at him, widened in surprise.
Without warning, the creature attacked. She launched her blade at Spike’s head with amazing accuracy and force. As he moved out of its path, he felt its passage across his cheek. A loud thud resounded through the room as the weapon embedded itself in the wall behind him. In the meantime, the stranger had fled to the window. Spike stared, open mouthed, as wings sprouted from its back. With one backward glance, the creature leapt from the window and escaped.
Almost as an afterthought, Spike leaned over Gunn. He could smell the fresh blood leaking from his gut, and could almost see death stealing over the young man’s features. And yet, still, he clung to life.
“What was it?” Spike asked urgently. He gripped Gunn’s head, forcing him to focus. “What did this?”
Gunn smiled. “Lady Death,” he whispered. His eyes closed and he exhaled. He did not breathe again.
Angel walked in quietly and eyed the tableau in front of him. He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t have much hope for him, but I had thought if he could just hold on until a doctor could get here…” He trailed off and fell silent for a long moment.
“He was stronger than I thought, I’ll give him that,” Spike admitted grudgingly, releasing Gunn’s head and standing with a dissatisfied sigh. “And he might have made it, but it would seem someone had other ideas.”
Angel shook his head, in a confused sort of way. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Spike said, “he didn’t die. He was killed.” Spike sauntered over to the wall, still limping slightly. Even advanced vampire healing could not erase the traces of the battle in so short a time. He stopped just short of the place where the attack’s knife protruded from the wall. Gripping it tightly, he heaved it free of the plaster, and held it up for inspection.
“But who? Was it one of the senior partners’ demons?”
“Dunno,” Spike said, noncommittally. “Barely got a chance to look at it before it was out the window.”
“Wait a minute,” Angel growled. “Are you telling me you weren’t in here? What the hell where you doing?”
“Look, I am not here to play nursemaid to some waste of space backstabber!”
“What are you here for then, Spike? No one forced you to be in this fight. You don’t even care about any of this. I have lost friends tonight, and you’re acting like it’s nothing more than some goddamn inconvenience!” Angel drew in an unnecessary breath to calm himself.
“Well it is a bloody inconvenience, if you ask me. It’s not like he was going to make it anyway.” Spike huffed indignantly, gripping the knife in his hand tightly.
“That’s not the point…” Angel shook his head in frustration and walked slowly to Gunn’s side. He knelt beside the young man’s body. “It just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, I don’t smell even a whiff of demon in here. How could it be possible?”
“I don’t know. I was in here before it even got out, and I couldn’t smell it. But I saw it, just before it jumped out the window.” Spike tossed a glance over his shoulder, expecting Angel to disbelieve him. His sire merely shook his head again.
“Did he say anything?”
“Yeah,” Spikes face took on a confused look. “I asked him what the demon was. He told me it was Lady Death.”
Angel reached out his hand and Spike laid the knife on his palm. He gripped the handle tightly and stared at it for a long quiet moment.
“I guess there really isn’t a place to hide then,” he whispered. “They’ll find us wherever we go.” He sounded defeated. Even desperate. He looked at Gunn’s body, sprawled on the floor and said, almost to himself, “Lady Death…”