Story title: Redefined –Angel

Author: Eledhwen

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Up to and including 'Redefinition', AtS season 2

Summary: part of the 'Redefined' series of vignettes. Alone in the Hyperion, Angel muses. And they're not nice thoughts.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be mine, Joss Whedon and friends'.



REDEFINED – ANGEL

The demon is not getting stronger. I am not turning back into … into what I was.

I am losing control.

I was ready. I knew they were there before the door opened, before they saw me. My Darla, blonde and beautiful; mad Dru, a dark enchantress. Somehow dropping that cigarette on the ground was the easiest thing I have ever done. The gas caught fire just as I had planned, the flames driving inexorably towards them. I scarcely heard their screams as I left the factory.

A part of me asks what Cordelia and Wesley would have said. What Gunn would have said. But that part is small, and weak, and I can control that. I have spent too long, too long pretending to be a human. I'm not. I always knew that. Just because of the soul, just because of the voices ringing in my ears, that doesn't mean I belong with them. I need to get over my pointless longing for humanity and return to what I was – what I am. To shut down these emotions that threaten to dominate me, and fight Wolfram and Hart on their own territory. They want a big bad vampire – then they shall have one.

But I will not lose control. I will not give into the voice of this demon inside me. I will use it, play with it, show it to the world, but I will not lose control. I cannot lose control.

I am losing control.

When I closed the cellar doors I was not condemning them. I was saving them. Another minute, another thirty seconds, standing there, smelling their pure fear – and their desire for death – I would have closed the doors from the inside and joined Darla. And what she said is true. Nobody could keep up with me. To have slowly, tortuously drained the life out of Lindsey McDonald, or Holland Manners; to have broken necks and stood over the pile of corpses – I was moments away from giving in to all of that, just moments. I wanted it. I did care, but in the wrong way.

Am I Angel? Am I Angelus?

Who knows? Not me.