VisionBoy
Scooby
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2014
- Messages
- 1,072
- Age
- 34
Hey guys, so this is something I've been thinking of doing for a while. Basically this is an alternate reality fan fic that starts right after Angel has lost Conner and Cordy returns (so that's the episode "Double or Nothing" in reality). I wasn't crazy about how season 3 ended, so I'm completing the season by taking it in some different directions that I will take into season 4. That's not to say that I won't take certain themes from the real seasons, but I do want to try and do something a bit different with it.
Below is the first part of my episode 18 of season 3. "Lost Boy" rather than "Double or Nothing". You'll notice that the first scene is pretty much the same as how "Double or Nothing" starts, but after those initial scenes it will be very different. I'll be posting each episode split into 4-5 parts so that my posts aren't too massive.
By the way, while I've written a couple of fan fics before, this is the first time I've ever done anything Buffyverse... so be gentle please 😛
Hope you enjoy.
Charles Gunn sat at the reception desk of Angel Investigations. His co-worker and girlfriend Fred Burkle helped him to route through the pile of files surrounding them. They had both thrown themselves into the monotonous task of going through all the paperwork and client records to take their minds off the recent tragedy; the loss of a child. A loss which was brought about, in part, by one of their closest friends. Angel hadn’t left his room in days and Cordelia was still away on vacation with The Groosalug; so it had been up to them keep the business afloat.
“Half these files, I can't even read the clients' names. What is this? Frizzana? Frizzle-car?” Gunn showed the file to Fred.
Fred squinted at the page; struggling a little to make out the small text without her glasses. “I think it's Frzylcka. Oh, right. They're that demon couple who called last week about a squatter in their lair? Wesley was supposed to... it was supposed to be taken care of.”
Gunn raised an eyebrow. He was furious with Welsey, but also felt the sting that came from being deceived by a friend. The anger was easier to deal with, so he focused on that. “Well, guess he was too busy stealing the baby to...”
“Don’t. Okay?” Fred interrupted sternly. She still hadn’t really processed what had happened; there’d been so much keeping her busy since then that she didn’t really have time to. She had been moving on automatic pilot; she knew it was the only way she’d keep it together. Fred had only just gotten used to being back in her home dimension, after experiencing several cruel years of slavery in Pylea. Angel Investigations gave her another chance; a family, but now that had been divided. As well as that, to lose Conner to another dimension was like taking a bullet. She’d known the fear, suffering and madness of being in a cruel world beyond what was human. She couldn’t allow herself to think about it too much; she wasn’t certain she’d be able to handle the grief.
Lorne, who also knew the cruelty of other dimensions, entered carrying some books. “How's it comin'? Makin' any headway on that pending file pile?” he asked.
“There's just so much to keep track of”, answered Fred, barely hiding her exhaustion.
“Still, times like these, it's good to keep busy. Throw yourself into work. Stay active.” Lorne looked up at the staircase leading to Angel’s room. Lorne always tried to look on the positive side of things, but that had become particularly hard under the circumstances. He wished that there was something he could do for Angel. Being an Empath Demon, Lorne was no stranger to the heartache that the world could bring; but he was usually distanced from it to a certain extent, helping people he didn’t know otherwise. This situation was as new and horrible for him as everyone else at Angel Investigations, regardless of how much psychic insight he had.
Fred saw where Lorne was looking. “Lorne, he lost the only child he'll ever have.”
“Oh, sugar, I know.” Lorne replied, with a sigh that mirrored the sadness of Fred’s tone. “I just wish he’d talk to us.”
“Might be safer to leave him alone for a while”, Gunn advised. “Pretty sure the rage is past, but you really wanna find out first-hand?”
“I'm sure he's not plannin' to... finish what he started at the hospital.” Fred insisted. She couldn’t believe that Angel would kill Wesley.
“Only 'cause Wesley's too smart to show his face around here” Gunn countered.
The main entrance burst open. Fred, Gunn and Lorne all turned to the door, half expecting to see their old friend daring to come and apologise; to explain himself. However it was Cordelia and the Groosalug, having returned from their vacation. Cordelia strutted down the steps to the reception desk holding several bags in either hand. She smiled looking well rested; her face slightly tanned and her shoulder length brown hair sun-kissed. Groo followed behind her carrying even more bags.
“We're back! And we're bearing gif...” Cordy started. However her happiness plummeted quickly the moment she saw the expressions on her friends’ faces. Something was horribly wrong. “What happened?”
--------------------
Angel sat on his bed. Living in a hotel as large as The Hyperion, he was surrounded by empty rooms pretty much all the time. However, it didn’t seem possible to him that any of those empty rooms could be as empty as this one. He stared at the wreck of a room before him; a crib, scorched and broken... but most of all, empty. Angel stared at the space in which his baby boy was meant to sleep and was paralysed within the devastating realisation that he may never get to tuck his child in and see him sleep again. The door opened behind him, but he didn’t move an inch. Cordelia quietly entered the room and sat down beside him. She wrapped her arms around him; tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry”, she whispered. Angel had missed his friend, but he wasn’t ready to show affection again just yet, so he simply sat still and allowed her to embrace him. They sat together in the room; quiet.
--------------------
Melissa, a young girl and chef, walked down a dark LA alley way. She struggled to walk down the street in her heels after a few more tequila slammers than she would normally guzzle. She looked at her cell phone as she stumbled down the path, her makeup smeared by blackened tears running down her cheeks. It was supposed to be a good night for Melissa; she’d just gotten a new job and her boyfriend of four years was supposed to be celebrating with her. However, just a few hours ago, she received a text from him, a text that she clearly wasn’t supposed to get. Melissa wiped the tears from her cheeks while she looked at that very message.
Hey. Can’t get together tonight. Mel got the job and wants to celebrate. I promise, once she’s settled in, I’ll break it off with her and we can have that weekend away we’ve been talking about : )
“Lying son of a bitch!” Melissa cried. She was heartbroken. She truly believed that she had found the one. She felt so foolish to have imagined their perfect little fairytale future together so many times. Four years, she had given her trust, her devotion, her love... all for it to be betrayed. It was all over in an instant; the moment it had taken for her to read the message and yet the pain felt like it would never end. In a rush of anger and grief, Melissa threw her phone to the ground, smashing it to pieces. She stopped and looked at the pieces, realising that she’d just destroyed all of her contacts. She held her head in her hands for a moment, but jumped when she heard a strange moaning sound. She looked around, but she couldn’t see anything. She took a few more steps and then heard the moan again. It was like someone was in pain; the kind of pain where it’s hard to form words. She looked around once again, but the sound seemed to be coming from nowhere. She carried on walking; faster now... the moan sounded again, this time louder and longer lasting. Even though she didn’t see or feel anything around her, it was as if the moan was getting closer and closer. She was scared, she tried to run, but her heel broke and she fell to her knees. The moan was practically right next to her ear now and it grew into a spine chilling cry of sorrow and pain. Melissa gasped in horror as two long, thin, grey arms wrapped around her stomach from behind her. An almost ethereal shroud of fabric surrounded and covered her body. She couldn’t move or make a sound, but she could feel herself being pulled... pulled somewhere dark.
The alleyway fell silent. The shattered pieces of Melissa’s phone were all that remained on the ground on that dark night. Melissa was gone.
Below is the first part of my episode 18 of season 3. "Lost Boy" rather than "Double or Nothing". You'll notice that the first scene is pretty much the same as how "Double or Nothing" starts, but after those initial scenes it will be very different. I'll be posting each episode split into 4-5 parts so that my posts aren't too massive.
By the way, while I've written a couple of fan fics before, this is the first time I've ever done anything Buffyverse... so be gentle please 😛
Hope you enjoy.
Angel- Season 3, Episode 18
Lost Boy (part 1)
Lost Boy (part 1)
Charles Gunn sat at the reception desk of Angel Investigations. His co-worker and girlfriend Fred Burkle helped him to route through the pile of files surrounding them. They had both thrown themselves into the monotonous task of going through all the paperwork and client records to take their minds off the recent tragedy; the loss of a child. A loss which was brought about, in part, by one of their closest friends. Angel hadn’t left his room in days and Cordelia was still away on vacation with The Groosalug; so it had been up to them keep the business afloat.
“Half these files, I can't even read the clients' names. What is this? Frizzana? Frizzle-car?” Gunn showed the file to Fred.
Fred squinted at the page; struggling a little to make out the small text without her glasses. “I think it's Frzylcka. Oh, right. They're that demon couple who called last week about a squatter in their lair? Wesley was supposed to... it was supposed to be taken care of.”
Gunn raised an eyebrow. He was furious with Welsey, but also felt the sting that came from being deceived by a friend. The anger was easier to deal with, so he focused on that. “Well, guess he was too busy stealing the baby to...”
“Don’t. Okay?” Fred interrupted sternly. She still hadn’t really processed what had happened; there’d been so much keeping her busy since then that she didn’t really have time to. She had been moving on automatic pilot; she knew it was the only way she’d keep it together. Fred had only just gotten used to being back in her home dimension, after experiencing several cruel years of slavery in Pylea. Angel Investigations gave her another chance; a family, but now that had been divided. As well as that, to lose Conner to another dimension was like taking a bullet. She’d known the fear, suffering and madness of being in a cruel world beyond what was human. She couldn’t allow herself to think about it too much; she wasn’t certain she’d be able to handle the grief.
Lorne, who also knew the cruelty of other dimensions, entered carrying some books. “How's it comin'? Makin' any headway on that pending file pile?” he asked.
“There's just so much to keep track of”, answered Fred, barely hiding her exhaustion.
“Still, times like these, it's good to keep busy. Throw yourself into work. Stay active.” Lorne looked up at the staircase leading to Angel’s room. Lorne always tried to look on the positive side of things, but that had become particularly hard under the circumstances. He wished that there was something he could do for Angel. Being an Empath Demon, Lorne was no stranger to the heartache that the world could bring; but he was usually distanced from it to a certain extent, helping people he didn’t know otherwise. This situation was as new and horrible for him as everyone else at Angel Investigations, regardless of how much psychic insight he had.
Fred saw where Lorne was looking. “Lorne, he lost the only child he'll ever have.”
“Oh, sugar, I know.” Lorne replied, with a sigh that mirrored the sadness of Fred’s tone. “I just wish he’d talk to us.”
“Might be safer to leave him alone for a while”, Gunn advised. “Pretty sure the rage is past, but you really wanna find out first-hand?”
“I'm sure he's not plannin' to... finish what he started at the hospital.” Fred insisted. She couldn’t believe that Angel would kill Wesley.
“Only 'cause Wesley's too smart to show his face around here” Gunn countered.
The main entrance burst open. Fred, Gunn and Lorne all turned to the door, half expecting to see their old friend daring to come and apologise; to explain himself. However it was Cordelia and the Groosalug, having returned from their vacation. Cordelia strutted down the steps to the reception desk holding several bags in either hand. She smiled looking well rested; her face slightly tanned and her shoulder length brown hair sun-kissed. Groo followed behind her carrying even more bags.
“We're back! And we're bearing gif...” Cordy started. However her happiness plummeted quickly the moment she saw the expressions on her friends’ faces. Something was horribly wrong. “What happened?”
--------------------
Angel sat on his bed. Living in a hotel as large as The Hyperion, he was surrounded by empty rooms pretty much all the time. However, it didn’t seem possible to him that any of those empty rooms could be as empty as this one. He stared at the wreck of a room before him; a crib, scorched and broken... but most of all, empty. Angel stared at the space in which his baby boy was meant to sleep and was paralysed within the devastating realisation that he may never get to tuck his child in and see him sleep again. The door opened behind him, but he didn’t move an inch. Cordelia quietly entered the room and sat down beside him. She wrapped her arms around him; tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry”, she whispered. Angel had missed his friend, but he wasn’t ready to show affection again just yet, so he simply sat still and allowed her to embrace him. They sat together in the room; quiet.
--------------------
Melissa, a young girl and chef, walked down a dark LA alley way. She struggled to walk down the street in her heels after a few more tequila slammers than she would normally guzzle. She looked at her cell phone as she stumbled down the path, her makeup smeared by blackened tears running down her cheeks. It was supposed to be a good night for Melissa; she’d just gotten a new job and her boyfriend of four years was supposed to be celebrating with her. However, just a few hours ago, she received a text from him, a text that she clearly wasn’t supposed to get. Melissa wiped the tears from her cheeks while she looked at that very message.
Hey. Can’t get together tonight. Mel got the job and wants to celebrate. I promise, once she’s settled in, I’ll break it off with her and we can have that weekend away we’ve been talking about : )
“Lying son of a bitch!” Melissa cried. She was heartbroken. She truly believed that she had found the one. She felt so foolish to have imagined their perfect little fairytale future together so many times. Four years, she had given her trust, her devotion, her love... all for it to be betrayed. It was all over in an instant; the moment it had taken for her to read the message and yet the pain felt like it would never end. In a rush of anger and grief, Melissa threw her phone to the ground, smashing it to pieces. She stopped and looked at the pieces, realising that she’d just destroyed all of her contacts. She held her head in her hands for a moment, but jumped when she heard a strange moaning sound. She looked around, but she couldn’t see anything. She took a few more steps and then heard the moan again. It was like someone was in pain; the kind of pain where it’s hard to form words. She looked around once again, but the sound seemed to be coming from nowhere. She carried on walking; faster now... the moan sounded again, this time louder and longer lasting. Even though she didn’t see or feel anything around her, it was as if the moan was getting closer and closer. She was scared, she tried to run, but her heel broke and she fell to her knees. The moan was practically right next to her ear now and it grew into a spine chilling cry of sorrow and pain. Melissa gasped in horror as two long, thin, grey arms wrapped around her stomach from behind her. An almost ethereal shroud of fabric surrounded and covered her body. She couldn’t move or make a sound, but she could feel herself being pulled... pulled somewhere dark.
The alleyway fell silent. The shattered pieces of Melissa’s phone were all that remained on the ground on that dark night. Melissa was gone.