The Vampire, the Seer and the Protecter

Title: The Vampire, the Seer and the Protector
Author: AddictedtoBuffy
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Eventually Angel/Gunn/Doyle
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to Joss. I do not make money from the writing of this, it is purely entertainment. I do not mean any disrespect to the actors who have portrayed these characters. This fic contains explicit Male/Male relationships if you are adverse to this or are under the age of eighteen then please do not read. Thankyou to all the online writers who help keep the Buffyverse alive.
Series: This is part of my Belonging series. First was The Watcher and the Wolf, then The Rocky Road to Belonging, DeSoto Sex and a Canadian Interlude.
Summary: What happens in the lives of Angel and co in LA while Spike and group are escaping initiative soldiers and are out of the picture.
Beta: The wonderful Bubbysbub as always has betaed this.
Feedback: Please, please, please. I crave it
Part: 1/8
Distrubution: Ask and you will receive
A/N: Thankyou to LadyVirgo who came up with this name sometime last year. Sorry its taken me so long to write this.


The Vampire, the Seer and the Protector

Chapter One – Welcome to LA

Angel’s POV

I turn around slowly as I sniff the air, catching the intruder’s scent. My non existent breath catches in my throat as I study him. Short, pale green eyes and dark hair. His eyes draw me in with their striking colour reminding me of the finest emeralds. Pale skin contrasting sharply with his dark hair falling over his forehead. The clothes are garish reminding me of Harris but I have a feeling that they hide a shapely body.

I feign nonchalance as he recites my history as only someone who had seen it first hand could. Who is this Irishman who knows so much? I am relieved as he reveals he is a seer and he hasn’t been stalking me, or isn’t a victim from my past, but I know I have no chance with him, he has seen my violent history first hand. Seen what the monster that still resides within me can do. The monster that is always there, always taunting me. The other reason I could never touch him, the blonde girl I left behind and the curse that if broken will release that monster onto the world again.

*****

Doyle’s POV

I surreptitiously watch Angel potter around the office as I ignore Cordelia’s chatter. I study his form, those wide shoulders, strong back and as ass to die for. Sometimes I have to resist the urge to squeeze them, specially when he’s wearing his black boxers, his silk black with red edging shower robe and silver chain around his neck. Its agony when I glimpse a nipple while he is in that outfit. I’d do anything to be able to lick and suck at them but I can’t. I will away the stiffness in my pants, deciding that this is just another way I can punish myself for sins past and present. I take a swig of my trusty flask, turning from that tempting sight and paying attention to the princess in front of me.

Suddenly pain slams into my head like a physical force that pushes me to the floor. Its worse than usual and I hear myself whimper in pain as images flash across my vision. Images of demons being tortured, tortured by men in uniform. These visions have been hitting me with increasing frequency but I can never tell where they are. The vision keeps on going in excruciating detail and I know I’m going to pass out from the pain soon, but I need to let them know what I see, otherwise the pain will not be worth it.

“Soldiers… demons… tortured,” I manage to gasp out before my world goes black.

*****

Angel’s POV

I sit in the chair next to my bed holding Doyle’s hand as he feebly thrashes around unconscious. Two days ago he had a vision in the office that was worse than usual and he hasn’t woken up since. Visions are continually playing before his eyes, but he cannot escape from them. We can’t do anything for him except give him sedatives and pain killers, but they only give him partial relief. Before he fell into unconsciousness he mentioned three words; ‘soldiers’, ‘demons’ and ‘tortured’. The Power’s that Be keep sending him visions of this nature but Doyle can’t tell us where and I know he is beating himself up about it. I hate to see him suffer which is why we have spent countless hours scanning the streets of LA for clues. Last night we came across something that may or may not be related but we won’t know for sure until Doyle wakes up. I just hope he does wake up.

Over the last couple of months I’ve grown closer to both Cordelia and Doyle. I stand by my initial impression of Doyle, that he would look fantastic writhing under me, or maybe riding me glistening in sweat. I shake my head, feeling guilty for having such impure thoughts, Doyle deserves much more than that. He deserves to be treasured and spoiled, unfortunately I cannot give that to him for two reasons. Firstly is the curse, a reason that stops me from being with anyone, and secondly is Buffy. I am, however, beginning to realise more clearly that even without the curse we would never work out, I am not in any capacity over her. Suddenly Doyle’s eyelids flutter open and I resist the urge to kiss him in relief.

“Doyle, can you hear me Doyle?” I ask, hoping he hasn’t sustained any brain damage.

“A… Angel?” he rasps out, licking at parched lips. I quickly grab the glass of water sitting on the bedside table and hold the glass to his lips, helping him to slowly drink before setting it aside. I sit beside him and I cannot help but take his hand between mine, needing the comfort of skin to skin contact for just a little while.

“You’re okay now, Doyle.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah, but for how long?” He quietly replies and he has a point, these frequent visions are taking a toll on him. If he wasn’t half demon he would probably be on his death bed about now.

“What did you see? Maybe some clue will help us to stop the soldiers, maybe then the visions won’t be so painful.” I know its pointless but I can’t give up just yet and I won’t let him give up either.

“Just the normal demons in pain, soldiers and scientists causing the pain.” He suddenly gasps and sits up, “And the Scourge!”

“Who?”

“The Scourge! They’re deadly, I’ve seen it before. They’re pure blood fanatics, they wipe out all the half breeds they can find.” He sounds so completely anguished that I know there is a story about his past that he is not telling me. Lately I have managed to get him to open up slightly but he is still so secretive about the time before LA. Something else he said makes me stop for a moment.

“You said they wipe out half-breeds. Do some of them look human?” He just looks at me with wide green eyes, wanting to know where I’m going with this but he only replies.

“Yeah some did.” My suspicions have been confirmed but I won’t tell him till I’m completely sure.

“Where were these innocents in your vision?” He relaxes a little, mistaking the question for routine so that I can go fight the bad guys. Unfortunately it is not to be this time. Damn those powers that be.

“They were down by the Wharves, the dodgy end of North side. I can show you, I’ll know it when I see it,” He is eager to get up and help the good fight. I don’t want to crush his enthusiasm but I have to tell him.

“Doyle we found remains last night,” I begin. “They had been slaughtered, some were clearly demons, others looked human, they were all one extended family and this was down by the wharves. The dodgy end of North side.” He looks at me in shock and horror.

“No it can’t be. Why would they send me visions if I can’t do anything to stop them? It’s not bloody fair Angel, they keep torturing me with these images, images of people, oh okay, not people strictly speaking but they’re like me. I can’t take much more of this.” He whispers the last part looking so forlorn and lost that I can’t help but get up onto the bed with him and pull him towards me, hugging that slender body, giving him what comfort I can.

*****

Doyle’s POV

I watch as Angel fights his personal demons, a silent observer. I wish that I could comfort him like he comforted me about a month back. After I woke from my three day coma to find that the visions I had been suffering in that time were in vain, he comforted me. He wrapped his long, strong arms around me and held me in comfortable silence as I cried my frustration out. I felt safe in his arms and it was then I realised that my feelings towards him might go beyond simple lust. I think I’m falling for him. This complicates everything, but we have not mentioned that night since, for which I am grateful. Right now a Childe of Angel’s is in town causing havoc. Angel is beating himself up about it feeling that he is responsible for every human that Penn has killed. On the other hand he obviously feels for his Childe and does not want to bring him to task, yet he feels he is obligated too and this causes him more angst. I wish I knew what to do to help him but this is something he needs to decide for himself. He needs to decide whether to stake Penn or not.

*****

Angel’s POV

I feel Doyle’s warmth as he stands close beside me, silently lending me his support as he has so often recently. Last week my unimaginative Childe Penn was in town and I wouldn’t have gotten through it without Doyle. He didn’t tell me if my decision was right or wrong, but he didn’t seem to be judging me either. He just leant me his ear and accepted my decision unlike Cordelia. Cordelia ranted and raved when she had found out that I had run him out of town instead of staking him. That was how this current debacle came about. She was still pissed off at me a week later, so she took the night off and went clubbing with friends. Unfortunately she was impregnated with demon spawn. Finding out what sort of demon it was and the vital information that it communicates telepathically with the unborn foetuses. This means that it can therefore control the mothers. It took us too long to find this out as neither of us are researchers. Hopefully we won’t be too late to save Cordy. Apparently the mothers rarely survive childbirth. We tear into the abandoned warehouse to find the mothers in a pool screaming out in childbirth. This is definitely bad. The father is at the other side of the pool and he is massive.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger boat,” Doyle remarks next to me and it gives me an idea. I carefully survey the surrounding area as I reply.

“You know I think you’re onto something there.” I direct his gaze to the liquid nitrogen bottle hanging suspended from the roof.

“You’ve watched Jaws?” Does he have to sound so surprised? I ignore it and instead get down to business, those screams and groans are getting louder, frantic. We are out of time. I hand him a pistol.

“I hope you’re a good shot,” I move off, tracking where the chain attached to the nitrogen dangles close to the floor. I easily pull it down and unhook it before hoisting the canister above my head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this?” he asks nervously.

“Doyle, you couldn’t lift this thing, let alone throw it as far as daddy dearest.”

“Fine, fine, just throw the damn thing, will you?” he banters to hide his nerves. Without saying anything I throw it at the demon who instinctively catches it. Doyle raises the gun and shoots the canister causing the liquid nitrogen to freeze the beast.

“Nice shot,” I compliment him before the scent of blood overwhelms me. It had been there for a while but it is now stronger and I am no longer distracted. I rush over to the edge of the water tank identifying Cordelia’s form in the melee of terrified women.

“Cordelia!” Doyle gasps out beside me as I take in her sheet white form gripping the side of the tank as she sobs in pain. I wish that somehow I could keep Doyle and her forever safe but it does not seem a possibility. And now I am faced with the distinct possibility of losing Cordelia. This cannot be happening, except it is and all I can do is react to the situation. The water is already stained red with blood and some of these women are in trouble, Cordelia included, which just breaks my un-beating heart. One is already floating face down in the water, dead.

“Doyle, ring 911,” I order as I pull an oblivious Cordelia out of the water until I am sitting down with her head in my lap. I stroke Cordelia’s hair, knowing there is nothing else I can do and scared that we are too late to save her. I watch as her eyes flutter open and she takes in her surroundings. I pat her hair hoping she isn’t in too much pain which seems unlikely with all the blood staining her white gown and pooling around us.

“Angel?” she finally asks weakly. Just like her heart that I can feel starting to slow. No! This just isn’t right.

“I’m right here Cordy, we’re both right here.” I reassure her. Doyle bustles over and hands me my phone back.

“Ambulances are on their way.” I watch as Doyle takes Cordelia’s hand between his. “You’ll be fine now princess.” He reassures as I continue to stroke her hair, not knowing what to say and attempting to keep my emotions in check.

“No,” she whispers, “I won’t be but promise me that the two of you will look after each other.” I hear the truth in her words and know that she is not going to be able to pull through this.

“Cordy,” I choke on her name, not knowing how to make this easier and yet not wanting to make it easier. She will die because of my failings because I’m not enough. Therefore I should take full responsibility and punishment for my failings.

“It’s fine Angel, I know you did all you could, now promise me you’ll look after each other.” She is rapidly growing weaker but her eyes still hold that determined spark.

“I promise,” I tell her sincerely as I hear Doyle echo my words. I watch as Cordelia smiles up at me but I can feel her heart slow even further. She is not going to make it. She is not going to make it and there is nothing I can do about it. I’ve never been so powerless. I feel my demon roar within me, wanting to rip everything in sight apart. Cordelia takes one last breath and falls limp in arms. She is dead. Beside me Doyle has tears streaming down his face.

“No princess, no!” he moans in grief and pain. I can’t take this anymore. Why did this have to happen. It doesn’t make sense. I gently close Cordelia’s sightless eyes and lay her head on the ground. I’m shaking from pent up fury. I can not do this. I’m supposed to fight, not sit passively by while my people are killed. I whirl around snarling. The closest thing to me is a wall and I punch it with all my strength. Furious at the world. Furious at myself for being too late and most of all furious at the Powers That Be for letting this happen.

My fist makes impact with the solid wall and masonite crumbles away. I can’t help but hit that spot again and again and again feeling my demon roar inside me. I make a sizeable hole. I want to keep going but two things impact on my mind. One, Doyle is tugging at my other arm all the while making soothing noises and calming phrases. The other is the sound of sirens getting closer. We need to go, as much as it pains me to leave her body. If we’re found here, they’ll arrest us for sure. I let Doyle pull me away as we head back to my apartment.