Title: Eternal Problem.<\/b> A Pure Darkness fic
\nAuthor: <\/b>Anna
\nPosted: <\/b>15\/08\/06
\nEmail<\/b>
\nRating: <\/b>PG-13
\nCategory: <\/b>Aus POV
\nContent: <\/b>C\/Aus(naturally!)
\nSummary: <\/b>Angelus’ thoughts while lying on the bed with Cordelia and Connor.
\nSpoilers: <\/b>Season 3 Ats – up to Provider
\nDisclaimer: <\/b>The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
\nDistribution: <\/b>Just ask
\nNotes: <\/b>
\nThanks\/Dedication:<\/b>Thanks to Jenn, Cyd and Vampi<\/b> who all helped me with ideas!
\nFeedback:<\/b> Would love some<\/p>\n
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To see, to think, to feel, but to be completely helpless to direct your own actions. That is true eternal torment. A hell dimension has nothing on me. I am bound to be forever helpless, my freedom dependent on one moment of true happiness. Those gypsies weren\u2019t as stupid as they tasted.<\/p>\n
I have shared a bed with many a beautiful woman over the years, but never has it been so stomach-churningly sweet. My entire being rebels at being caught up in this scene from a bad romantic comedy.<\/p>\n
Forced to lie passively, to play the role of doting father and unthreatening friend. The soul revels in a normalcy I have always strived to avoid. I have never craved \u2018normal\u2019. Normal is mediocre and the one time Scourge of Europe will never be that.<\/p>\n
Cordelia lies peacefully opposite me, her voice gently running through ways to spend the newly acquired money. My kinda girl, likes the finer things in life. A little luxury is a necessity when you\u2019re eternal. But Mr Responsibility is on about saving for the brat\u2019s future. And they say vampires bleed you dry\u2026<\/p>\n
It grates that she feels secure, so very safe in the knowledge that I would never just reach over and snap her neck. Embarrassment courses though me at the talk of moonlight cruises and skiing, when I should be feasting on her flesh and getting drunk on her blood. Images flash through my mind and the soul stirs in protest, but can\u2019t quite hide the twinge of longing from me. White hat with dark desires.<\/p>\n
I yell that happiness is lying before him, that he should reach out and take it. Live in the moment and get what he can. If you don\u2019t there\u2019s always someone else waiting to grab the opportunity. Like me. I\u2019m just waiting for my chance, and I know it will come; Soulful is just too good at screwing things up, or just plain screwing.<\/p>\n
But the soul doesn\u2019t touch her, not that the desire isn\u2019t there, but it values the friendship too much. He loves the humans around him, sees them as the truest friends he\u2019s ever had. And now he has a child to complete the rosy picture. A son to pass all his insecurities and martyr complex onto. If I do ever get free then I think I\u2019ll let the kid live, just to see how monumentally fucked up he\u2019ll be.<\/p>\n
So, I\u2019m trapped in the eternal problem. The soul\u2019s moments of greatest joy may well be endlessly nauseating to me, but how can I begrudge him the key to my freedom? His human moments of happiness may turn my stomach, but without them my hope is gone. So I endure them, I even encourage them. I wait.<\/p>\n
~*~<\/b><\/p>\n