Title: Darkest Hour (2/?) : Story 21 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" series
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and all the other nice people that actually get paid to work to work on the show, none of whom I have any affiliation with whatsoever. Please don't sue me; I'm a poor broke college student. Songs are "Yellow Light" by Remy Zero, and "Chosen Family" by Leona Naess.
Rating: R for violence, language and sexual content.
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" and the first 20 stories in this series.
Timelines: Takes place immediately after "Darkness Falls."
Summary: Cordelia grows worried about Angel's absence; she later realizes her own life is still in jeopardy.
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission. Permenant home is at www.geocities.com/angel_roswell/fanfic.html .
Category: Story
Subcategories: horror/angst/friendship
Author's Note: This fic gets very dark (and I'm not talking about night-time, folks) and graphic. Proceed with extreme caution.
Feedback: Rates right up there with chocolate, hint, hint. :)
Dedication: To rousedouser, Anne, Windsor and Julia.
Special thanks to Shanlya for all the feedback! :)
Darkest Hour (Part Two)
Cordelia twisted in the arms of her captor, trying to break free.
"Stop struggling. You'll only make it worse on yourself," he commanded in a low voice. He dragged her farther down the dark alley.
She bit his hand.
"You bitch!" he spat, releasing her briefly. He punched her in the face and sent her crashing into the brick wall.
Cordelia gasped at the pain in her head as she slid to the ground, unable to stand. She raised her hand to her head and cringed when it came back covered in blood.
She froze when she saw him remove a long butcher knife from his back pocket. She fumbled around on the ground, trying to locate something she could use to defend herself with. Her hand closed around an empty old beer bottle. She pushed herself to her feet unsteadily. "Stay away from me," she warned, keeping the bottle hidden behind her back.
He sneered at her from behind the black ski mask. "I'm afraid that's not how this works." He advanced on her quickly.
She kept herself as calm as she could, allowing him to get close enough to her. He grabbed her by one arm, and with her free arm she slammed the bottle into his head, shattering it. Glass rained down on the street.
Cordelia didn't wait to see his reaction. She jerked out of his grasp and bolted around him, her heart racing. She cried out as he kicked her feet out from under her. She hit the ground hard, with him on top of her. Unable to breathe from the force of the fall and his weight, she was completely defenseless.
He pinned her arms above her head with one hand. The other hand--the one still holding the knife--traveled down her body. She heard the tearing of fabric as he sliced her dress down the side.
Cordelia could taste bile at the back of her throat as her entire body went completely numb.
She was going to be a statistic. Would her parents find out? Would it really bother them? Or the Scooby gang? Would they cry at her funeral?
Wesley would. Angel, too. Maybe even Kate and Gunn. Her friends from Roswell would be upset, but probably wouldn't make it to the funeral services.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he told her. He lowered his head and licked the side of her face.
She shuddered and gagged and then turned her head away. I don't want to die like this, she thought desperately, her numbness turning once again into panic. She tried to bring up her legs to knee him in the groin, but to no avail.
"Now, now," he warned, holding the knife up in front of her face.
Cordelia glared at him defiantly. "Fuck you," she said darkly. Then she spat on him.
Enraged, he wiped the spit off his cheek and punched her in the face again. "I'd be glad to," he remarked, shoving her legs apart.
Cordelia screamed.
Angelus watched with disinterest as Darla fed off of an old homeless man. He yawned and leaned against the side of the building. His gaze traveled and fixed upon the familiar apartment building across the street. A smile crept up on his lips.
He glanced back at his resurrected sire. "I'll be back later."
Darla tore her fangs out of the man's throat and let his lifeless body drop to the ground with a dull thud. "I'll come with you," she said eagerly.
Angelus rolled his eyes and wondered how he's spent so many years with this woman. She was so...predictable. So dull.
A terrified and familiar scream shattered the silence of the night. Before he even realized what he was doing, Angelus was off and running.
There, in the alley way of the apartment building, he spotted a man sitting on top of Cordelia. Fury rose within him. Without understanding the rage he felt, Angelus launched himself forward with a growl.
Cordelia tried to roll away as he unfastened his jeans, but he hit her again and she was in too much pain to move.
Tears ran down her face as the world began to spin. Angel, where are you? she wondered.
A second later, she heard a growl and then the killer was no longer on top of her. She sucked in a lungful of air, her ribs aching in tandom with the pounding in her skull.
"What the--"
"No one touches her!" a familiar voice snarled.
Cordelia squinted and she could dimly make out a large figure as he threw the killer up against the wall. "Angel?" she murmured.
Feral yellow eyes turned to her for a moment.
The killer raised his knife up and threw himself at Angel.
"Angel, look out!" she cried.
He turned and effortlessly knocked the knife out of the man's hands. Then he pinned the guy against the wall. The killer began to shriek--a high-pitched wailing like a cat that was being tortured.
Cordelia's head pounded harder at the sound and her vision started to grow blurry. A petite blond woman was suddenly standing over her wearing a long, red dress. She looked familiar somehow, but Cordelia couldn't remember where she'd seen her.
"Get away from her, Darla," Angel snapped, anger in his voice.
Darla...Darla...where had she heard that name before?
The killer's screams ended abruptly with the sound of a sickening crunch.
"But I'm still hungry," Darla breathed, bending over Cordelia, who stared up at her in confusion.
Angel grabbed the woman by her arm and yanked her away. "I said stay away from her!" he repeated menacingly.
Something's not right here, Cordelia thought as she struggled to stay conscious.
"What are you going to do to her?" Darla asked excitedly.
"Go wait for me in the alley across the street. I'll take care of it," Angel snarled.
Cordelia could hear Darla's retreating footsteps and she felt some relief that the woman was gone.
Angel turned to look at Cordelia. He was still in vamp-mode. Their eyes locked and they stared at each other for a very long, tense moment. Then he turned to leave.
"Angel?" she whispered weakly, knowing she was losing the battle for consciousness.
He turned to face her once more. "The name's Angelus."
Cordelia's face crumpled in confusion and pain. Angelus?
Before she had time to think about it, the pain throughout her body became too intense. And everything grew dark.
"She's not answering her cellular," Wesley remarked grimly as he placed Cordelia's portable phone back into its cradle.
"Gunn and Oz haven't seen or heard from her since we got back from Roswell," Kate informed him as she slid her cell phone back into its holder on her belt. She watched as his face grew more worried. "What do you want to do?"
Wesley rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I think we should go out and look for her. I have a really bad feeling about this."
"So do I." She grabbed her jacket off the sofa and walked with him towards the door.
Just as they reached it, it flew open by itself and Cordelia stumbled inside.
"Oh, my God! Cordelia?" Wesley caught her before she hit the floor. Her dress was torn, her face and arms bruised. Dried blood matted her dark hair to the side of her head.
"I'll call an ambulance," Kate said immediately, whipping her phone back out.
"No," Cordelia choked out. "No ambulance. No doctors."
Wesley gave Kate a worried look, but shook his head and scooped Cordelia up into his arms. He carried her across the room to the sofa and laid her down as gently as possible. "What happened?"
"Call Gunn and Oz," she whispered, her voice strained. "Get them over here."
He nodded and Kate quickly placed the call. Then she carefully sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Cordelia.
A first aid kit floated into the room and Wesley quickly accepted it. "Thank you, Dennis." He opened the kit and then hesitated, afraid he'd hurt her more by trying to help.
Kate noticed the hesitation and gently took the kit from him. He gave her a grateful look. "Why don't you get some ice from the kitchen?" she suggested quietly.
Wesley stood up and walked to the kitchen, returning a moment later with the requested ice.
Kate focused on the head wound first. Luckily, it didn't look deep enough to require stitches. She dabbed some peroxide on a handful of cotton balls and gently brushed them over the gash. Cordelia cringed only slightly.
"Cordelia, what happened?" Wesley asked again, gently holding the ice against her left cheek.
"The killer...he attacked me outside. In the alley," she whispered hoarsely.
"Dear Lord," he muttered. "Are you all right? Are you sure you won't let us take you to the hospital?"
Cordelia shook her head slightly, then winced from the pain.
"I should go out and see if he's still hanging around," Kate said grimly, standing up.
"He's still there," Cordelia murmured, her face drained of all color. "But he's not going anywhere."
Kate stared at her.
"Angel," Wesley said quietly.
"It wasn't Angel."
Wesley frowned. "Then who--?"
Cordelia's eyes filled with tears. "He's gone, Wesley. Angel's gone."
His eyes widened. "He was staked?"
The tears spilled down her cheeks. "No...he's Angelus."