You're Somebody Else.

BY : Magnusxxz
Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > General
Dragon prints: 896
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor Angel, those are Joss's. I also don't own The Anita Blake series, that's Laurell K Hamilton's. I make no money in this work of fiction.

You’re Somebody Else.


If I told you what I was
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a candle to guide me
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me
A monster, a monster
I've turned into a monster
A monster, a monster
And it keeps getting stronger

“Monster,” Imagine Dragons.



The windshield didn’t so much shatter but explode into an endless sea of thumbnail sized pieces. Modern car designers having created windshield glass to do so, into thousands of tiny pieces rather than shards large enough to cut & puncture the drivers in the case of accidents.

Or in the case of a vampire being thrown headfirst into it.

The dark-haired vampire was momentarily disoriented. His head being used as a battering ram wasn’t anything new, nor was the glass the first object of the night he’d been thrown into. The tiny pieces of glass, many now imbedded in his hands and face, causing wounds that bleed freely.

Just a handful of new wounds to go with the many others he’d gathered in this battle.

However, the pain helped clear his foggy mind, the irritation of the shards digging into his skin as he moved, as well the blood falling across his vision. It gave him the jolt he needed to come back to himself.

It can’t end like this, his mind raged. Nearly two-hundred and fifty years of unlife, a bitter pit opened in his stomach, he wouldn’t die on some street like a pathetic fledgling.

He’d have to rally; it was that or death. And he’d been to hell once, and once was enough.

Shaking off the fragments, he pulled himself free of the steering wheel that was biting into his chest. Looking around at his surroundings he tried to make out in the moonless night his attacker. He’d lost his dagger & stake, but maybe he could find a weapon before the melee started again.

But it was all for naught. One moment he was alone on the street, the houses on this block dark and steadily ignoring the sounds of battle, as you’d expect in Sunnydale, the next moment a dark-haired young woman literally stepped out of the very shadows in a nearby yard.

Even as he caught sight of her, she was sprinting from the yard to the house’s driveway and in-between two parked cars, jumping and pulling her arm back –

Her fist connected with his jaw with bone shattering force, quite literally, the crack was like a gunshot on the quiet street & a few teeth escaped his gapping mouth. He got a vison of the world spinning a handful of times before landing on the pavement with a dull thud.

Stumbling to his feet as quickly as his injured form allowed, he found her leaning against the wrecked car, hip against the top of the wheel wall, dark eyes filled with equal parts malice & amusement.

She was having fun. He was fighting for his very life and she was having a great time out.

He needed some way to distract her, give himself time to get away, no one had warned him of teleportation. All the while she was grinning at him, as if she could read his very mind that grin became a full dimpled look of absolute pleasure.

“We can fix this, it doesn’t have to end like this,” he growled between broken bone & teeth, sounding as fierce as a puppy.

She just kept smiling down at him. “This was the only way it ever coulda ended, Fang. You’ve already lived too long as is.”

Finally pulling herself up straight, she began making a circle around him, her leather covered thighs and backside making an enticing view even has her heavy steel toed boots crunched glass and teeth into the asphalt.

Then, almost in a showy mocking way, she pulled a long sharp stake from her back pocket. All fun and games eventually have to come to an end.

The man once known as Liam, but now as Angel glared hatefully, already the wounds across his skin were healing, his broken bones knitting back together. The face that got him renamed Angel shifted, a vampire’s visage taking over, his hazel glare now a mix of blood/gold. “You can’t beat me.” He spat.

“I dunno, looks like I’ve been doing a pretty good job so far.” But instead of finishing the fight, she wanted to add further insult to injury and struck out with her boot heel, aimed to break this face of his as well.

But she’d waited to long, and while he wasn’t back up to fighting fit there was enough strength in his limbs to grab her boot before it chopped into him and throwing it against the car door. Slapping the stake out of her hand as he lurched backwards, he gave himself some breathing room.

“Faith, we can fix this!” He growled around broken fangs, “we’ll find out what happened and everything –”

“Everything will what?!? Go back to normal? Last I checked normal was getting gutted and thrown off a building.” She sneered, ignoring the stake to lay another haymaker into Angel’s gut, had he been alive it would have no doubt knocked the wind out of him. “How you gonna fix me, Fang? Gonna chain me to a wall and tell me I’m just a piece of shit like you? Again? Gonna let Buffy finish the job?”

Smirking now, Faith continued, “Well – maybe not B, last time I saw her she wasn’t doing too good. No fit condition to stab anyone, not after the good long poke I gave her.” She finished while running her tongue across her lips wantonly.

“Faith, if you’ve done anything to…” His retort was cut off when the world around them went black. The moonless sky, vanished into an ink black void that swallowed up the trees, houses, everything around him. If Angel hadn’t seen the darkness spread like a blanket, he might have feared he’d gone blind.

Disoriented, he didn’t see the steel toe coming, not until the full force of her kick landed across his ribs, breaking at least three, before he was launched back into the waiting black. Grunting, Angel still looked around the world blankly, if not for the fact that he could feel the grass beneath him or smell the world still around him, they might have been transported to another world.

He didn’t understand how she was doing this, or moving through shadows from one place to another, but that wasn’t the issue at present. Finding Buffy, saving Buffy, that was the most important thing on his mind.

He launched across the void at her, his hearing still supernaturally strong and after centuries he could pinpoint a heartbeat without using his eyes. Angel raked his claws across her face, hopefully blinding her as much as he was, then followed up by grasping her shoulders until he felt her skin give under his nails and smashing his forehead against her nose.

And again. And again.

Disgruntled at not hearing or feeling her nose breaking beneath his assault, he made one last attempt, grasping her shoulders still he launched back, taking her legs out from under her, Angel used all his strength to smash Faith’s face against the pavement. And just like that, the lights went back on in the world.

Apparently, she needed focus to do her little trick.

Now that the shoe was on the other foot, Angel took full measure of his surroundings, not seeing the stake nearby, he grabbed the now totaled cars back bumper and ripped it free. The screech of pain she let out when he brought the metal bumper across her back was a soothing balm to his broken body.

“Where is she?” He demanded, before striking her again, “where is she?!?”

“You --,” she coughed, tasting blood, but still gave him a red grin, “you won’t want her now. Even with lube, she squalled like a stuck pig when I took my strap to her.”

“But I don’t see what the big deal is, she was certainly a good lay but hardly one to lose your soul over.”

Uncomprehending, it took a few moments for her words and meaning to finally sink through the haze between Angel’s ears. With a roar he took aim at her head, ready to go in search of Buffy after finishing Faith off.

He should have been watching his six. Faith hadn’t been the only one he was warned about when Oz came stumbling into his offices.

Angel felt the blade pierce straight through him, felt spine give way and snap in two, felt his lungs sliced through and his heart practically burst. The wound exploded across his chest, blood pouring freely, but even though he felt it he still couldn’t see the blade that wounded him so deeply.

Now it was his mouth that filled with blood, as weakness took hold of his legs – as he could no longer feel them, right before they gave out and laid him across the pavement beside Faith.

But even as he lay there, he saw no blade, felt nothing pulled free of his body, just a vanishing of sensation, before this invisible blade sliced across his head and felt his cold blood gushing out. Reaching up, the souled vampire was able to take hold of his left ear, it came away freely.

Before horror could take hold, his body was pierced in a rapid stabbing, as if the sword was now a knife being plunged into him again and again. But still he couldn’t see a knife.

“Of course its you,” he spat the words as much as he spat a mouthful of blood across the asphalt. “You did promise, didn’t you?”

“And I always keep my promises, Deadboy. You were always going to die, and I was always going to be there.” Angel hadn’t had a chance to take a good look at Faith, between the world going black and her appearing and disappearing without fanfare, but he got a good long look at Xander Harris.

His hair was the same color, the shape of his face and limbs were the same, but he was – not pale, no, he was luminescent. As if his very skin was made of moonlight. His eye glowed with a light, and from Angel’s perspective it looked almost as if there were rings of different color in his gaze.

But no blade in his hands, no sword, no knife.

Well, why not? If Faith could control darkness the way she could now, then why shouldn’t Xander wield a blade that wasn’t really there.

Ignoring the vampire now, Xander turned to Faith and helped her to her feet, gingerly he took hold of arms to do so, seeing her wounded shoulders made him turn a hateful glare to the downed champion. Then all his attention was back on her.

And Angel saw too that her skin had changed, glowed with an otherworldliness that made his own demonic appearance seem tame. Unable to make out her eyes from his position, he could only assume they too were different.

“I told you to wait for me, Faith.” He scolded, even as he ran his fingers across her face, gently rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

“I’m fine X, he might have got the drop on me, and I might be a little bloody but nothin’s broken.” Faith retorted with her usual bravado, but still leaned into his touch like a cat, rubbing her dimpled cheek into his palm. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against Xander’s, emoting with her lips what she’d never admit with words.

All the while Angel was prone, broken before their feet, and confused as to why their skin seemed to glow brighter with their kiss.

In two-hundred and forty-three years he’d never heard of any demons like this, nor could he think of a spell or possession that sounded anything like what he was witnessing.

Reaching beneath her arms, Xander wrapped his arm around Faith’s waist, his fingertips rubbing across her ribs, making her skin tingle and her breasts ache. “Now, what to do about EvilDead here.”

The former Slayer, because Angel couldn’t imagine what she was now, looked down at him with a frown. “If we dust him, the Scoobies 2.0 in LA will still come looking. If we keep him alive, chained up like the piece of shit he is,” she growled, “we might have a bargaining chip.”

Xander just gave her a lopsided grin, “do we really need one? Cordy and Wussly will come anyway, and not to make friends.”

Faith just gave a throaty laugh, “oh, either way I’m counting on it. Cheerleader Tits is gonna end up face down on my bedspread, give her a taste of what B and Ginger Twat have gotten.”

I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you both,” Angel caterwauled.

“What?” Faith teased. “From your place on the ground, bleeding out like a little bitch? That’d be quite the sight.” In moments the car bumper was in her hands, “I thought you wanted to save me,” she spat before bringing it down across his head, “I thought we were the same,” she mocked as he tried to fend off her blows while still clutching his ear.

“Sunnydale’s ours now, Fang. No more Mayor or Watcher’s Council pulling strings, no more perfect Buffy telling us how worthless we are, the only time B opens her mouth these days is to swallow my boy’s load.” Faith threw the bumper away before perching down near Angel’s head, “make no mistake, she’s already guzzled gallons of X’s baby batter.”  

Her words caused an ache in his heart that went deeper than the invisible blade had, he barely registered the fist she launched at him, hardly noticed his cheek being smashed in. His vampire visage having long abandoned him between the stabbings from before.

“Buffy was dead, X saved her. Then I was called. We could of all worked together, all been friends, but no. I was never good enough, I was just the fucking spare,” she spat, enraged now.

When her boots hit him below the belt, he blessedly couldn’t feel it, thought when Faith rained down blows on his shoulders and head, all he could do was whine pitifully. All the while she screamed, “I was fucking chosen. I was the slayer! B was just on borrowed time.”

“Now she’ll pay for every shitty thing she said,” abandoning her kicks, she was on her knees now beside him, punching with all her might, “I’m gonna stick my 10 inch strap up her preppy little ass after we kill you,” the blows were brutal and stronger then any slayer he’d faced, “I’m gonna make her suck it clean afterwards, then me and X are gonna spit roast that little whore,” blood and eye jelly rain freely down his face, “make Red watch, waiting her turn. And then,” grinning madly she finished, “when Queen Sugar Tits comes to save you, we’ll do the same to her.”

“Finish this piece of shit for me, baby.” Exhausted, panting, Faith lurched onto her feet. All the while the thing that used to be Angel, but now resembled roadkill twitched on the ground.

“With pleasure,” Xander said before raising his left hand. “This seems fitting.”

And without another word, Angel simply burst like an over ripe tomato, every wound gushing with his life blood, every ounce of his red ichor being called forth.

What was left was little more than an oozy crimson, dusty mess.

The pair of them just stood and watched, then gazed down at the ruin that was once a member of the Scourge of Europe, the duo stood united, the only Seelie in the whole world.

Though Unseelie was probably more accurate.

Looking down at the gore across her hands, Faith snorted and spat out some of the blood from her busted nose that was running down her throat. “I need a fucking shower.”

Turning to her lover, a smile spread across her face, if one ignored the blood, she almost looked innocent. “Wanna wash my back?”

Reaching forward, Xander brought their lips crashing back together, their tongues fought for dominates, their hands exploring each other freely. He was openly palming her breasts and chuckled against her mouth as she attempted to rip his zip entirely from his jeans.

“Yeah, Faith,” he said with a laugh, “I’ll wash your back.”

“Then we are gonna fuck the prissy little bitch’s ass into a whole new shape.” She promised.


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