Title: Second Chances (1/?)
Summary: This story is set in Calliope’s “An Angel
Among Us” universe. The characters of
Abby McDonald, Kathy McDonald, and
Artie Abromawitz are the original creations of Calliope. (Ellen's version of Artie also owes a debt to Cedar's Arthur F. Doyle from Manifest Destinies. Thank you, Cedar!) All other characters from the WB television series “Angel” are the property
of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy
et al. No copyright infringement
is intended.
This
story begins set shortly after the thirty-fifth and final part of Calliope’s
“An Angel Among Us,” which can be read
at the Christian Kane-Maverick site. WARNING: This story contains major spoilers for An Angel Among Us.
********************************************************************************************************
Chapter
One
“Damn
it!” The demon in the freight car swore
aloud as his head hit the edge of the crate stacked above him. He
ducked back down, trying to get comfortable despite the swaying of the
train.
This
wasn’t exactly passenger transportation, but he couldn’t pass for human any
more. Somewhere in his mind was the
certainty that he had been able to pass, once.
When
he was thirteen years old? No... no,
that wasn’t quite right.....
There
had been a time that he could get from one place to another in a flash of
light. Or was that just something
he had imagined, cramped inside this
train?
Even
if he were able to pass, he had no money and no identification, and he knew
that he had to get to L.A., even though
sometimes he couldn’t quite remember why.
Sometimes
when he slept, curled into a corner of the freight car, he would wake up knowing that he was
Artie Abromawitz, and not remembering
anything more. He had no idea why he
was traveling west, or why there was an
emptiness inside him when he thought of being Artie Abromawitz, an odd
feeling like there was something missing,
something that should have been there.
Then
he would get flashes of something else ... a human face in the mirror,
nervously checking out a suit that felt
awkward and strange, and a girl with wavy, fair hair in a wedding dress,
turning to him, as the two of them repeated
the words of a ceremony that seemed oddly wrong somehow, in a place that wasn’t quite right.
“I,
Allan Francis....” but no, he was
Arthur, wasn’t he?
Sometimes
he thought he remembered a Brachen face that was somehow his face as well,
except that he wasn’t a Brachen
... and the pale, intense face of a dear friend who happened to be a
vampire, calling him by another name, a
short name, one that faded out of his mind before he could quite recall what it
was.
Maybe
it was because the voice crying out that name was filled with such pain and
fear, and he didn’t want to know why.
Sometimes,
when he closed his eyes, he could see a beautiful girl who, when he kissed
her, had just begun to kiss him back when he tore himself away.... and
then it all faded away again.
Sometimes
he saw other faces behind his closed eyes, too, and he thought he remembered
people with wings.
He could almost remember it. When he started to fall asleep, he could almost see it.
But
maybe it was all just a dream.
*******************************
(November 30, 1999)
He looked up at the moonlit sky over the water. 'Did what I think happened, happen?' he wondered. A second before, he would have sworn he had been in the cargo area of a boat with Cordelia and Angel – now he was outside and alone. He wandered aimlessly looking up at the moon and sky – the past few moments of his life were so fuzzy. He remembered kissing Cordelia for the first time. He remembered saying goodbye to her, and to Angel. He remembered saving their lives and those of the Lister demons. He remembered there was the most agonizing pain – burning white hot through his entire body….then. there was nothing.
There was a sound behind him, a woman weeping. Doyle turned around and looked at the large boat docked nearby - the Quintessa. It was the ship he had just been on…or had he? Was he remembering any of this right? Or was he just crazy? He looked up to the deck of the ship. Cordelia was crying. Angel wrapped his arms around her to comfort and hold her. "They both look so sad…" Doyle muttered.
There was the sound of footsteps lightly splashing water as they gracefully approached. "That's natural…" the woman said softly. "They lost a dear friend."
Doyle jumped slight and turned. "Wh-what?" Behind him was a beautiful woman all dressed in white. Ivory white wings framed her pretty young face and long red hair.
She smiled at him kindly. "Don't be afraid, Francis."
Doyle looked at her a moment – not believing that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He looked down at her feet and couldn't help but notice the fact that she appeared to be standing on the ocean. The woman looked down at her feet as well – light waves splashing playfully at her ankles. Her green eyes then wandered to Doyle's feet – causing him to look there as well. He too could stand on the ocean now. "Ahhh!" Doyle jumped in shock. "What the hell?!?"
"It's all right." She said, trying to calm him. "You won't drown."
He looked at her – still a bit confused. "I'm dead, ain't I?"
She nodded once sorrowfully.
"That's what I figured." Doyle sighed. He looked over the winged woman again. "Are ya some kinda angel?"
"Sort of…" she said.
"An angel!" Doyle scoffed and shook his head. "Never thought they'd send an angel ta fetch me!"
"Why not?" She asked. "You did a wonderful thing. You saved them all, Francis." She slowly came nearer. "You're a hero."
"Hero?!" Doyle shook his head. "Naaa….I just…" He looked behind him at the boat again. Remembering what had just happened. How he had given his life. "Well…I guess…that was kinda…"
"Heroic?" She said.
"Yeah…" Doyle said humbly. "Sort of…" He turned back to her. "So…what happens now?"
"Well… let me see…" She appeared to consider for a moment, glancing down at her feet, and he automatically followed the direction of her gaze. "Well…you still have the sins of gambling and drinking to excess to make up for…that's about 100 years in Hell, 80 with good behavior…"
"Wha-?! Wait a second!" Doyle protested. "100 years!? I just," He pointed back to the boat. "I just gave my life ta save all those people and the Powers That Be give me 100 years!"
"I'm kidding." She smiled to see him finally admitting his heroism. "A little angel humor."
"Oh…oh…" Doyle quieted down as he looked at her kind, smiling face. He shook his head and smiled back laughing at himself a bit. "Of all the angels in all the world, I have to get Henny Young-" He looked her over and added. "-woman…"
"Sorry." She said softly.
"It's all right." Doyle said. "My sense of humor ain't at its peak right now."
"That's understandable." She nodded. "But you don't have to worry. You've made your amends."
"Glad ta hear it." Doyle turned his head back to the boat. Cordy and Angel were still there – grief stricken. They seemed to be looking right at him and the angel – but they both seemed to look right through them. He could hear the sounds of Cordelia's sobs, and it tore at him. He had never seen her cry like this before.
The angel looked worriedly at Doyle. "Francis," she said softly. "I need you to come with me now."
Doyle turned back to her – unsure. "What? I…what about the visions?" He asked. "Angel needs those so he can help people."
"We've taken care of that." She explained. "The girl has them now."
"When I kissed her…" Doyle remembered. "Somethin' happened…"
"Yes."
Doyle looked back up at Cordy and Angel again. "Poor Cordelia…she don't know what she's in fer. Maybe I should stick around, hang out with Dennis for awhile at Cordelia's place. Cordelia's gonna need me, 'specially if she's got the visions now."
"She'll be all right." She tried to console him. "She's a strong young woman – a lot stronger than people give her credit for. She'll be fine." She looked at him worriedly again as he watched his grieving friends. "Francis…" She sighed – not wanting to lose him. "I need you to come with me…"
"Where?" Doyle asked anxiously.
"I want to take you to the Light." She told him. "It is the desire of the Powers That Be, that you come with me."
"And why should I do anything fer them?" He questioned. "They never did anything fer me but give me brain splittin' migraines."
"The Powers That Be work in mysterious ways." She explained. "With every gift there must be a burden to balance it. It is their way."
"Their way?" He scoffed. "Bullocks to their way!"
"You must come with me…if you don't…" She shook her head. "You'll be stuck here forever." She stepped a bit closer – speaking softly and sincerely as she looked into his eyes. "I don't want that for you, Francis. It would be a waste." She sighed. "You've earned the chance to be something more than a phantom doorman. You could help so many people. But I need you to come with me."
"And do what?"
"Become a Child of the Light," she said, her voice warm with hope. "When you died, the Powers that Be decided to give you an option – be reborn into the world as someone else or become a Child of the Light like me, and help people."
"Child of the Light." He said considering his options. "Sounds kinda like a cult or somethin'."
"It isn't." The winged woman shook her head and smiled slightly. "We help people…a lot of them…"
"So…what's the deal?" Doyle asked. "I save a couple dozen demons and suddenly the PTB think I'm Mother Theresa?"
"Ummm…." She lowered her eyes a bit. "Not exactly. I was the one who told the Powers That Be that you'd make a good Child of the Light."
"You did?" He asked surprised. "But you hardly know me."
"I've been keeping an eye on you for some time." She explained. "You've made mistakes, but you have a heart of gold, Francis." She smiled kindly. "I think you'd make a wonderful Child of the Light."
"Oh….I…" Doyle said, a bit embarrassed at the compliment. "I dunno what ta say."
"Just say you'll come with me." She gently insisted.
"Well…" He looked at the angel a moment again. "Do I get one of those wingy jobs?"
She laughed slightly. "Certainly."
"Okay then…" Doyle nodded. He turned his head back up to Cordy and Angel on the boat. The two had such grief on their faces still but slowly and hesitantly they turned to leave. Doyle sighed, wishing he could ease their pain. Let them know he was all right but he couldn't. "Goodbye…" He said sadly as he watched them go. He turned back to the beautiful angel.
She reached out one small white hand for him to take. "They'll be all right, Francis."
"I hope so…" Doyle said. "Say…I didn't catch yer name, darlin'."
She smiled, – her hand still offered to him. "It's Abby."
"Abby…" He swallowed hard and after a moment took her hand. "Nice ta meet 'cha."
A white light flashed and they were gone.
*******************************
(More Than A Year Later)
“Why
haven’t I had a vision?”
Angel
looked quizzically at Cordelia. “I
never thought I’d hear you complaining about that.”
“Yeah,
well, I never thought I’d be complaining about it either. I mean, peaceful is good, right? We’ve been
monster-free for days, Abby’s baby is fine, you’ve been
happiness-proofed and everything. What
could be wrong?”
“But
you’re worried about something. What is
it?”
Cordelia
sighed. “Well, you know,
I had kind of gotten used to Doyle popping in, while we were in our
state of perpetual crisis and all....”
“So
that’s it.”
“I
guess. I mean, I know he’s probably off
helping somebody who actually needs it right now. But I haven’t had a
vision since that whole thing with Darla, and....”
Angel
prompted gently, “Go on.”
“Well,
I know this sounds pretty lame, but the visions were like a connection, in a
horrible, painful, someone taking a
drill and burrowing it into your head kind of way, and then we actually
got to see him and that was so much better,
even with him being dead - no offense -”
“None
taken.”
“And
now there’s nothing. No visions, no
app- app - “
“Apparitions?”
“Whatever. He’s just not showing up any more. I know it’s silly, Angel. I mean, they don’t forget, right? Your sister
never forgot.”
“Until
now.”
Cordelia’s
face softened, as she saw the hint of a smile that Angel could not resist
whenever he thought of Lindsey and
Abby’s daughter. “Yeah, until now. But if Doyle decided to get reborn, he would
want to say goodbye to us first, don’t
you think?”
“I’m
sure he would, if they let him. But
maybe it’s against the rules.”
“Ha,”
Cordelia scoffed, “Like he would care
about rules! But - “ and she
hesitated. ““Do you think he could ever forget us?”
“Unless
he gets reborn, he would never forget us,”
Angel reassured her. “But
wouldn’t you want him to have another
chance?”
“Sure,” but Cordelia didn’t sound very certain. “It’s just... it felt good to know that he
was still Doyle, you know? I know it’s selfish, but I want him to
remember us. And if he starts all over
again as a baby, like Kathy, well,
that means he has to forget us.”
“Maybe
we’ll meet him again someday.”
“Yeah,
when I’m old! It won’t matter for you
if it’s a hundred years from now when he comes back, but it matters to me.
I had just let go of missing him, and now I’m going to be missing him
all over again.”
“Cordelia,
just remember one thing. Even if Doyle
does get reborn, even if he’s not allowed to remember us ....”
“What?”
“We’ll
never forget him.”
*********************************
In
the darkness, the streets of Los Angeles echoed with the sound of marching
feet.