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This is for
tl__dr's request of Lindsey/Angel - post-apocalyptic.
A/N: This veers slightly off-canon and is a wee bit dark. Hope you enjoy it!
On the outside, a city falls. The smell of smoke lingers in the air. The sound of chaos and destruction echoes through the club as the demon hordes make their way through the streets and alleys that border the building. You haven’t moved since it started, feels like days ago. You have no idea how many are left, if any are left, if any are coming for you.
The door swings open. Stay quiet now.
“Lorne?” That voice, achingly familiar.
You shift slightly, whisper “Angel?”
There’s a rustle on the other side of the room. Angel staggers into view, looking the worse for wear. His clothing is torn; he’s bruised and bleeding, and muttering to himself. “Finally get to be human and this is my reward.”
He nearly collapses on top of you, but instead lands on the floor, facing you.
“You look like hell,” you say. You want to touch him, but then you remember that you’re angry with him. It should have been him on the other end of that gun, nobody else. It’s always been the two of you. From the moment you met, you’ve been linked. He should know that. You think about telling him, and then…
He sees you. “Lindsey,” he whispers. It comes out faint and shallow as though he’s putting what’s left of his breath into speaking your name. His fingers come up and lightly brush your hair away from your face.
In that moment, your anger dissipates. You smile and say, “Should have known it’d be you and me, here at the end of all things.”
At last, he seems to hear you and offers a weak smile in reply.
When his hand falls to your shoulder, neither of you notice.
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A/N: This veers slightly off-canon and is a wee bit dark. Hope you enjoy it!
On the outside, a city falls. The smell of smoke lingers in the air. The sound of chaos and destruction echoes through the club as the demon hordes make their way through the streets and alleys that border the building. You haven’t moved since it started, feels like days ago. You have no idea how many are left, if any are left, if any are coming for you.
The door swings open. Stay quiet now.
“Lorne?” That voice, achingly familiar.
You shift slightly, whisper “Angel?”
There’s a rustle on the other side of the room. Angel staggers into view, looking the worse for wear. His clothing is torn; he’s bruised and bleeding, and muttering to himself. “Finally get to be human and this is my reward.”
He nearly collapses on top of you, but instead lands on the floor, facing you.
“You look like hell,” you say. You want to touch him, but then you remember that you’re angry with him. It should have been him on the other end of that gun, nobody else. It’s always been the two of you. From the moment you met, you’ve been linked. He should know that. You think about telling him, and then…
He sees you. “Lindsey,” he whispers. It comes out faint and shallow as though he’s putting what’s left of his breath into speaking your name. His fingers come up and lightly brush your hair away from your face.
In that moment, your anger dissipates. You smile and say, “Should have known it’d be you and me, here at the end of all things.”
At last, he seems to hear you and offers a weak smile in reply.
When his hand falls to your shoulder, neither of you notice.