SCRIBES OF ANGEL
FanFic
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Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine, never have been
mine, never will be mine.
Rating: G – there is absolutely nothing
troubling here.
Distribution: Anyone who has any of my other
stories, go ahead. Anyone else, just ask.
Spoilers: “Lullaby”
Author’s Notes: Some part of me was a bit
annoyed that Angel’s son still doesn’t have a name. And then my mind just ran
amok with this and wouldn’t let me sleep! I guess I needed some more concrete
Angel and baby moments, so here goes. My first ever short, Angel only,
immediately following episode, story. Apologies to my B/A loving readers, but
hopefully you’ll find this enjoyable anyway.
Feedback: Is absolutely adored! You had to ask?
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The baby did
not cry in newborn distress as he was expected to do. He hadn’t for long the
alley after his abrupt, violent birth, and he still didn’t in the quiet
near-darkness of Angel’s rooms. In fact, he seemed to be just as confused about
his situation as his father was. No one had thought this child could ever be
born. Maybe, Angel mused, his son hadn’t really expected to be born, either.
He held the
child like the absolutely precious, fragile thing that he was as he wiped him
clean with a warm washcloth. Angel wiped away all the proof of the infant’s
unlikely birth. The washcloth now held the dirt and rainwater from the alley
ground, but more telling still was the sheen of vampire dust from the baby’s
mother. Angel’s sire, the mother of his son...Darla. Angel was still too
overwhelmed by the events of the night to come up with any sort of emotional
response to it all.
Clean now and
warm, Angel wrapped the infant in a dry towel. The tiny newborn made soft,
meaningless baby noises at him and waved his tiny arms. Angel took gentle hold
of one of those hands, and watched in amazement as the baby’s fist curled
reflexively around his finger. Such a tiny, incredible, impossible life that he
held, perfect down to the fingernails that were almost too tiny to see.
Impossible... Miracle.
Angel looked
up at a soft knock on his room’s open door. “Wes,” he said softly in greeting.
The British
man hesitated for a moment before entering the suite. “I see your rooms
survived without the same damage as the lobby,” he observed.
Angel just
nodded. He carried the infant over to the bed and sat down. He could not tear
his eyes away from the child for a moment.
“How is he?”
Wesley asked.
Angel’s gaze
was locked on his son’s face. “He’s alive,” he said, a touch of wonder creeping
into his voice.
Wesley smiled
slightly. “I see that.”
Angel looked
up at him again to give him the more complete answer he wanted. “You’d never
know he almost died tonight,” he said. “His heart beat is strong.... And he
seems completely human.” There was no logic whatsoever to that fact.
“Yes, well,
one of us should probably take him to be checked out by a doctor tomorrow,”
Wesley said.
Angel nodded.
“The Nazian
scrolls are gone.” Wesley’s pronouncement was abrupt.
Angel just
nodded again.
“This is
important, Angel,” Wesley reminded him. “Without those scrolls, we have no clue
as to the destiny of this child. If this is going to bring about the end of
mankind....”
“Would you
stop that?” Angel demanded.
“Angel...”
“No, Wes. I’m
not going to let these prophecies determine my son’s life. I refuse to believe
that there are no possibilities for him. He has a soul, and that means he has a
choice. A chance.”
“Angel,”
Wesley tried again. “This is a child born of two vampires. It’s...not natural.
Destiny....”
“Screw
destiny,” Angel retorted. “Come here.”
Wesley came
to stand beside Angel, a confused and frustrated look on his face. Seconds
later, he found himself holding the infant whether he wanted to be or not.
“Just look at
him for a second,” Angel said. “Look at him, and then I want you to try to tell
me that he’s evil once again.”
Wesley looked
at the infant and his expression softened. “He is quite something, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Angel
agreed, his tone rather awed.
“How cute. A
Kodak moment.” A second later there actually was a camera flash, startling both
vampire and ex-Watcher.
Standing in
the doorway, Fred giggled. She had a disposable camera in one hand.
“You’re
back,” Wesley said.
Standing
behind Fred, Gunn nodded. “Thank goodness for 24 hour grocery stores,” he said.
Fred came
quickly into the room. “Can I hold him?” she asked, sitting beside Angel on the
bed.
Angel watched
with some trepidation as Wesley handed the infant to Fred. She smiled and
bounced him slightly in her arms, and Angel relaxed. “Hey, little one,” she
said happily.
“Where’s
Cordelia?” Angel asked Gunn after a moment.
“Downstairs,”
he said, smiling slightly. “She’s trying to figure out how to prepare a baby
bottle.”
Still holding
the baby, Fred stood.
“Fred,” Angel
began nervously.
“I’ll be
careful with him,” she promised. She crossed the room to Gunn. “Your turn,” she
insisted.
Gunn held up
his hands and backed away slightly. “No way,” he said. “I don’t know nothing
about no babies.”
Angel frowned
to himself. “That makes the whole group of us,” he said. “Unless...one of you
hasn’t told me something.”
All three of
them shook their heads, and Angel couldn’t help but sigh.
“What is it?”
Wesley asked.
Angel looked
at him helplessly. “I don’t know how to be a father,” he said abruptly, feeling
a touch of panic he hadn’t known before. “I’m not ready for this. I don’t know
what to do. How am I supposed to raise a human child?”
“You can
start by feeding the poor thing,” Cordelia interrupted, arriving in the
doorway.
Angel looked
up at her, startled. She had a baby bottle in one hand, a dishtowel in the
other, and was slightly splattered with baby formula.
“Next time,
you get to do it,” she declared. She looked at Fred. “Time to give Wonder Kid
back to his father.”
Fred
carefully placed the bundled infant back in Angel’s arms, and then Cordelia
handed him the baby bottle. Angel looked at them both helplessly. “What...?
I...?”
Cordelia just
looked at him. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she said. “You both will.”
And Cordelia
was right. After a couple of seconds and a bit of hesitation on both his and
the baby’s parts, the newborn was sucking away on the bottle. Angel couldn’t
help but give a small smile.
“See?” Fred
said suddenly. “You’re doing great already.”
“I just...”
"You
love him," Fred pointed out. "That’s enough, right?"
"I
guess..."
Wesley joined
in, to Angel’s surprise. "And we all know you will protect him. There is
no one else more qualified to do so."
"You
think so?" Angel asked hopefully.
Cordelia made
a sudden sound of frustration. "This is ridiculous," she said once
everyone’s attention was on her.
"Cordelia?"
Angel asked, alarmed.
"We
can’t keep just calling him ‘him’ or ‘it,’ Angel," she said.
"He
needs a name," Fred finished.
Angel
swallowed. "It’s been a bit crazy lately," he said. "I haven’t
exactly had time to think of something."
"You’ve
got time now," Fred pointed out.
Angel looked
at the infant once again. He was falling asleep now, just sucking occasionally.
"I don’t know," he admitted.
"Well,
don’t you dare name him Angel, Jr. or something," Gunn spoke up.
"Because that’s just cruel."
"That’s
not Angel’s human name, anyway," Wesley volunteered. "If he was going
to be a namesake...."
Angel
couldn’t help but look at him in surprise.
Wesley caught
the look and was a bit embarrassed. "I had to do extensive research on
you, Angel," he said. "You know that."
Angel was
silent for a moment. "I’d just as soon that name died with me," he
said. "It doesn’t seem to be exactly lucky."
"How
about family names?" Fred suggested. "I mean, maybe your father or
somebody...?"
"While
we’re on dead people, we could throw in Dennis," Cordelia teased.
"Doyle."
All attention
was on Angel once again.
"You
would...?" Cordelia asked, both sad and pleased.
"Well,
not ‘Doyle,’" Angel said, "because that was his last name..."
"Am I
the only one that’s confused?" Gunn spoke up.
Looking at
the infant again, Angel explained. "Doyle was one of very few real friends
I’ve had. He’s also the first one I saw die. He...got me going after I left
Sunnydale."
"He had
the visions before Cordelia," Wesley added.
Cordelia was
smiling very slightly. "I think...it would be nice," she said.
"His
first name was Allan," Angel said softly. He looked at his sleeping son.
"Do you like Allan?" he asked in a whisper.
The newborn
smacked his lips happily in his sleep.
"It’s a
nice name," Fred said happily.
And Angel
just smiled. "Yeah," he said. He placed the bottle on the nightstand
and took a moment to admire the sleeping bundle in his arms. He could feel the
infant’s warmth and heartbeat even through all the layers of fabric. He’d
actually created something...created life. "I...I’m a father," he
said in wonder.
There was a
silent moment from his friends in response. Still uncertain whether this would
turn out to be a good thing or not, they didn’t know what to say. It was
Cordelia who spoke up at last.
"We’ll
see if you’re still as happy about that when you’re dealing with two a.m.
feedings in the middle of a demon battle," she said, but her tone was
light and teasing.
Still
smiling, Angel placed his son carefully upon the bed. He’d get a crib tomorrow,
but for now this would do. This would be perfect.
He placed a
hand lightly on the side of the infant’s head. "Goodnight, Allan," he
whispered.
And the baby
cooed and stretched slightly in his sleep. No matter what anyone else was
thinking, Angel knew this child was a miracle. It didn’t matter what his
destiny was. If his only destiny - for the moment - was to make his father
smile, then that was more than enough.
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The End!
There, I got it out of my system and feel much better now.