Chapter Text
"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."
-Aldous Huxley
"It does not so much matter what happens. It is what one does when it happens that really counts."
-Laura Ingalls Wilder
"If our lives are indeed the sum total of the choices we've made, then we cannot change who we are. However, with every new choice we are given, we can change who we are going to be."
-From "The Outer Limits" (1995)
"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you."
-Jean-Paul Sartre
* * *
I recognized his scent even before I got close to his dimly lit crypt. It hung in the air like a static-filled sock clings to a sweater. My stride grew longer and my pace more rapid as I approached the heavy door to his home; my anger swelled through the borrowed pig's blood coursing through my veins. I felt the bones in my face shift beneath the flesh covering my skull, my teeth extended and twisted, and my sight grew more keen until I could make out the detailed designs on the crypt, even in the black of night.
I took a deep breath to fuel the growl in my throat as I slammed the wood and metal against the inner wall of the crypt. Glowing candles sprayed warm light against the cool breeze swirling behind me. The radiance briefly stung my eyes, but I could make out a form moving hastily before me.
Immediately, I hesitated. The movements were not familiar, and I stopped short. I was partly proud that I had taken a moment to think before reacting as my demon wanted. Overlaying the one I sought's more pervasive smell was the scent of another, unfamiliar creature. And the movements were less fluid and more clumsy than a vampire's more graceful and flowing motions.
An uncertain, slightly quavering voice met my sharply attuned ears. "A-angel?"
"Who are you?" I demanded, punctuating my cursory statement with a pointed growl.
"A-a f-friend."
I stepped further toward the demon before me whose fear was enhanced by the quivering folds that covered his body. The demon surprised me by not backing away despite my entrance into his personal space. "How do you know who I am?"
"I've heard a-a lot about y-you."
Glaring at him, I ignored his comment. "Where is he?"
"H-he's not h-here, I-I mean, not, not in Sunnydale. I d-don't know where he went. O-or when he'll be b-back."
I flopped in the chair before the television with my legs splayed apart. I no longer met the other demon's gaze. "I'll wait. I need to know the truth from my grandchilde."
Several minutes passed as I watched whatever program the creature had been viewing before my interruption. The stranger in the crypt slowly stopped trembling but never ceased staring at me in fear and awe. He clasped his hands tightly together in front of his torso.
Finally, I sighed. I glanced briefly at him. "So, sit down. I'm not going to bite you. Do you have any blood in that fridge over there? And what did you say your name was? We may as well be friendly because I think I'll be here a while."
The demon calmed visibly at my words and ambled to the refrigerator. He smiled briefly and opened the door, sending cold air across the crypt to brush across my face. "Let's see. We have blood, beer, and..." He trailed off as he rummaged toward the back of the appliance. "Fresh strawberries," he added triumphantly. "And there's a Quantum Leap anniversary special on the tube tonight that I was going to watch." He turned to face me. "And by the way, my name's Clem."