ROTM 1.40.2 - Write a ficlet on the word "surrender"
1.40.2 - Write a ficlet on the word "surrender".
It was the longest elevator ride in recorded history.
Angel could still taste Cordy's kiss on his lips, still hear the echo of her voice in his ears. More than that, though, he could still feel the phone receiver against his ear as he listened to the nurse on the other end tell him how his best friend had passed quietly away, never having woken from her months-long coma.
He wasn't entirely sure to whom he owed his own "thank you". Cordelia's brief, but afterlife-changing visit might have been the doing of the Powers That Be, or maybe somehow a result of the residual power from her part-demonic nature or her brush with Jasmine's presence. Whoever or whatever had done it, Angel was grateful.
Cordy, at least the one he'd come to know in L.A., had always been generous of spirit, if not in fact. This time though, she had come bearing gifts. One gift, to be specific, for him. She gave him his destiny back.
Angel had, he realized as the elevator crawled painfully slowly down to the street level lobby where his friends were waiting, very truly and simply given up. After Connor and Jasmine and the Beast and Holtz and everything that had weighed down his shoulders over the past few years, Angel had lost sight of the reason he survived and endured those things and had let the weight of them drag him under.
It was hopeless, his subconscious had convinced him. No matter how hard he tried, how valiantly he fought, how many bad guys he dusted or put down, it would never be enough. He would never win. And he would never achieve the goal, never get the prize. Shanshu. Life.
So even while he went through the motions of being Angel, he surrendered to the feelings of futility. He let them all be drawn into Wolfram & Hart. He stepped aside and compromised when he should have stood his ground and demanded what was right. Spike beat him to a make-believe reward not because the younger vampire was stronger or more skilled, but because he'd wanted it more. Not that Angel would ever admit it to anyone, but looking back on that moment, he knew that Spike had deserved it more. Then.
Cordy came back to remind him of the why, and it had nothing to do with prizes or prophecies and it didn't have a damn thing to do with Shanshu or becoming human. They fought because they could. They were Champions because someone had to be and fate had chosen them. At the same time, they had chosen that fate. It wasn't about the win, it was about the fight.
The elevator reached the ground floor and Angel found himself smiling. In the end, he knew, they probably wouldn't win, wouldn't even really change things. But they could make a difference, if just for a moment.
And that was enough.
Angel
'Angel' the series
Word Count: 491
It was the longest elevator ride in recorded history.
Angel could still taste Cordy's kiss on his lips, still hear the echo of her voice in his ears. More than that, though, he could still feel the phone receiver against his ear as he listened to the nurse on the other end tell him how his best friend had passed quietly away, never having woken from her months-long coma.
He wasn't entirely sure to whom he owed his own "thank you". Cordelia's brief, but afterlife-changing visit might have been the doing of the Powers That Be, or maybe somehow a result of the residual power from her part-demonic nature or her brush with Jasmine's presence. Whoever or whatever had done it, Angel was grateful.
Cordy, at least the one he'd come to know in L.A., had always been generous of spirit, if not in fact. This time though, she had come bearing gifts. One gift, to be specific, for him. She gave him his destiny back.
Angel had, he realized as the elevator crawled painfully slowly down to the street level lobby where his friends were waiting, very truly and simply given up. After Connor and Jasmine and the Beast and Holtz and everything that had weighed down his shoulders over the past few years, Angel had lost sight of the reason he survived and endured those things and had let the weight of them drag him under.
It was hopeless, his subconscious had convinced him. No matter how hard he tried, how valiantly he fought, how many bad guys he dusted or put down, it would never be enough. He would never win. And he would never achieve the goal, never get the prize. Shanshu. Life.
So even while he went through the motions of being Angel, he surrendered to the feelings of futility. He let them all be drawn into Wolfram & Hart. He stepped aside and compromised when he should have stood his ground and demanded what was right. Spike beat him to a make-believe reward not because the younger vampire was stronger or more skilled, but because he'd wanted it more. Not that Angel would ever admit it to anyone, but looking back on that moment, he knew that Spike had deserved it more. Then.
Cordy came back to remind him of the why, and it had nothing to do with prizes or prophecies and it didn't have a damn thing to do with Shanshu or becoming human. They fought because they could. They were Champions because someone had to be and fate had chosen them. At the same time, they had chosen that fate. It wasn't about the win, it was about the fight.
The elevator reached the ground floor and Angel found himself smiling. In the end, he knew, they probably wouldn't win, wouldn't even really change things. But they could make a difference, if just for a moment.
And that was enough.
Angel
'Angel' the series
Word Count: 491