Time: During "Reprise"
Additional Notes: Since I've already started a collection for my Buffy drabbles, I figured I should make a collection for Angel drabbles as well. So here we go! Stories will vary in rating, genre, and pairing. This one is an introspective look into Angel's mind at the end of "Reprise".
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel. Joss Whedon does.
There's a Chill in My Heart
Evil. Everyone, every single person in the damn city, the whole damn world, was evil. In varying degrees, of course, but in the end, evil still lurked in everyone.
The thought reverberated through Angel's head. As he strode through the streets, he stared at the hapless humans. At their pain, at their anger, at their hopelessness as they dragged their way through a meaningless existence.
It was all for nothing.
The thought chilled him and even though a part of him wanted to care, he didn't. He just couldn't dredge up an ounce of compassion for the creatures around him.
The world wasn't white and black. It was just shades of gray and then some truly black stains. He could try to fight, to eliminate evil from the globe, but in the end, what did it matter? Humans would always find evil in their hearts and nothing would change. It would just stay the same.
Everything had been easier back when he had been soulless. Back then, it had been simple: slaughter, torture, and pleasure. Now it was just pain and despair and the ever-present chill that all the trying in the world wouldn't let him redeem himself or save the world.
Because it was impossible. Because truly destroying evil was beyond them all. It was just a hopeless fight with no end and no reward. Why did it even matter?
Answer: it didn't. In the end, it didn't matter a flying fuck. Nothing he could do would help them or the world lift itself from its despondency. They were all damned.
When he arrived home, he heard the phone ring. Ignoring it, he listened vacantly to Kate's words. The words did nothing to him. She wanted to do it, fine, as if he cared whether or not she killed herself. Maybe she had the right idea – get out of the world as fast as possible.
Angel trudged up the stairs and there he saw her. Darla. He didn't feel any anger or sadness or really anything else seeing her. However, a small voice in his head whispered, Take her.
Nothing mattered. Absolutely nothing. All his struggles were futile. All his fighting was worthless. So why? Why should he continue to walk in the path of light if it all came down to absolutely nothing?
He needed to feel something. Anything. And since evil couldn't really be expunged from the earth's surface, why should he continue to deny himself his simple desires? Why should he shy away from what he wanted?
With that, Angel shoved her against the wall and kissed her. He wanted her and whether it was a desire to feel something or just an acknowledgement of the futility or a mixture of the two, he took her.