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He Who Would be Master: Chapter 9

More time passed and Kaard was growing restless. He was growing cramped, and sore and stressed out almost to the point of claustrophobia.

He spent his time working with the paper. He tried moving them about with his thoughts, but they responded more to his urges than conscious thought. They would twist along the walls like creeping vines until the room was overrun. What he could do with them was limited, and the more he worked with one, the sooner it burned away. He'd make new ones, using his Old name and his current one. It all worked the same.

But how could he use them?

"Are you spirits?" He asked softly. There was no answer. He tried his Big-Voice. "Be you Spirit?"

Still they remain silent. He really wished he'd listened to to Ames explain how it all worked.

The crept up along the walls when he slept, just the way they had when Ames had com and when Simon had left. They went inert again when he awoke. They let him know when anything in his space changed, like when more honey or supplies were brought.

And through them, he could sense the weak, barely-there, presences of his space.

"Everything has the potential of a Spirit..."

The desk. The lamp. The walls. The cot. Everything, even down to the chamberpot, to the honey's bowl held a tiny spark of potential. The more he used these things, the brighter the sparks became, but they were never more than a flicker. Through these flickers Kaard could remind himself where the door was; on the northern wall.

A lot of good that did. He still couldn't get the damned thing open.

Presently, he was at his desk, regarding the door. His focus on it hat congregated the paper streamers over it, mummifying it.

_ "Can you hear me...?" _ He asked, trying to shrug off the migraine. The door twinkled to his honing senses for a moment before dimming. _ "Door. I know you hear me..." _ The door twinkled again. _ "You have no lock... So it is not as if you want to keep me here... Is it?" _

The door didn't answer, only twinkled.

_ "Door... I wish to leave. You will open." _He said. _ "Open." _

The words on the papers started to glow, and Kaard worried that they might burn away. If that happened, he'd have to rewrite them and start over. But the door finally, slowly, creak open. It did not open all the way, but simply stood a bit ajar.

Kaard stood, blinking at his success. He slipped the white robe on over his shoulders and went to the door. He pushed on it and confirmed that it had indeed opened. "Thank you..." He whispered. The paper all fell away at once and Kaard collected each into tight rolls. With them in hand, stepped out into the hall.

From the outside, each door was obvious, unlike his had been from the inside. He wandered the halls in a bit of a daze. Escaping the room now felt like a dream. He barely felt his own legs as he made his way to the end of the hall to the door bearing a stained-glass window. He tried the handle and found it unlocked. When he opened it, his senses were overwhelmed by a blast of sunlight. He raised the hood and tried to adjust to the glare. However, it was not just his eyes that were overloaded. He was aware of every flickering potential Spirit in the courtyard.

In the circular space, he could feel the grass, flowers, fountains, statues, benches and tiny creatures there. It was like stepping into a world of electronic static. His normal senses were unaffected, but the dull roar of it all was distracting. He sat on the bench and tried to get used to it.

I don't think this is anything unfamiliar... He thought. There were just better things to focus on...

So he turned his attention to the fountain, it soothing gurgle, and the lovely statuary of angels pouring water into it from spouts shaped like horns-of-plenty.

"Kaard," Ames voice said quietly. "You've made it out."

Kaard didn't turn to look. He tried to ignore the other man. His voice was ruining Kaard's concentration.

"You're pouring Power, Kaard," Ames went on. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts," was Kaard's only reply, hoping Ames would take the hint and shut up.

He didn't. "That's because you're trying to attune to everything. Pull back," Ames said softly.

"How?"

"Breathe in on a ten-count. Through your nose... Good... Now out through your mouth... that's right. Nice and slow... Now, imagine something small..." Kaard thought of the bell-charm. "Now, imagine trying to slowly fold yourself to fit inside it..."

_'fold'...?_Kaard thought. He drew out one of the papers and folded one corner down. Then he folded that corner again, and continued folding the paper into a triangle shape, paper-football-style. He kept breathing, in on ten, out on ten, and hardly noticed that his senses were dulling, returning to human norms.

He felt better, but he couldn't quite shut out the static anymore. Something in him had changed.

"Better?" Ames asked.

"Much." Kaard nodded, with enthusiasm that surprised himself.

"Good. I have to say, you came out just in time," Ames smiled.

"In time? What for?" Kaard wondered airily, his attention starting to shift already.

"For your meeting with Angel, of course..." Ames looked, trying and failing to spot what Kaard was looking at. When he turned to look at the young man again, he found that Kaard was focused on him again, eyes bright.

* * *

Kaard waited at the Y. School had let out hours ago, and he had no interest in going home first. He asked Ames to simply drop him off here. He used his cell to phone Angel's.

"'Thello?" Angel's whisper seemed to hush the world's static. "Fuck, dude! Where you been?"

Kaard grimaced. "We'll have to work on you manners..."

"Seriously!" Angel insisted, "Where are you--?"

"Angel!" Kaard snapped. "Try to remember who you're talking to." At Angel's silence, Kaard continued. "I'm at the Y. Come see me."

"B-but--" the quiver in Angel's voice made Kaard sniff deeply.

"Bitch!" Kaard snapped. "Get here."

"Y-yes..." Angel muttered, defeatedly. "Yes... Sir..."

Kaard hung up, reveling in the rush of power he felt. It was invigorating. He clambered up for the fence and perched on top to wait. He closed his eyes and tuned back in to the world's noise. It was almost like listening to very loud music, or looking at fireworks that never ended. Yes... Fireworks... That was more appropriate... He could see them through his eyelids, and yet only on the edges of the darkness. The Presences flickered, and sparked blearily, and silently.

"KAARD!" The over-loud shout below him brought him back to the here and now. He looked down and saw Angel. "We need... to talk..." Angel's face was red, and there was distress there.

Kaard smiled softly. "Miss me that much, Angel-Mine...?"

Angel visibly gulped. "Please... Talk with me..." he begged.

There was distress there in Angel's eyes. It was raw enough that Kaard found it troubling. Angel had lost weight. It was easy to see that his clothes hung baggier than usual. He was paler, enough so that the flush in his cheeks against the cold was almost striking. That, coupled with the condition of the shards he bore made Kaard consider that some sort of leeching effect was happening. "You look like shit..." He said, more to himself than to Angel.

Angel lost his patience. With a roar, he gripped the chain-link and pushed hard on it. When he couldn't push, he pulled just as hard, making the whole construct rock. Kaard lurched, almost falling off. He would have, but part way down, he managed to grasp the fence long enough to right himself. Then he let go and landed in a crouch on the outside of the fence.

"Hm...." Kaard stood, watching. "I didn't imagine you were that eager for this fight, Callahan..."

"I'm NOT!!" Angel shouted desperately.

Kaard's mind flashed.

"He's making it up!" the other children said.

"Poor thing... He must be ill..." the grown ups said.

"He's so weak... So scared..." They said.

"I'm NOT!" He'd pleaded desperately...

"Alright, baby..." He laced fingers through Angels and the two held onto each other that way for a few moments... "I'm listening, Angel-Mine..."

"Kaard... Othello..." Once more, that he had his Man's attention, he didn't seem to know how to proceed.

"Take your time..." Kaard muttered. "I'm not going anywhere..."

"Yes you are..." Angel whined. "You're going away..."

"Why would I go away...?"

"Because you have no home here!" Angel said. "Othello... Your house burned down!"

The world tilted.

Angel couldn't keep up. Kaard ran. He was only on the ground for about a minute or so, but then he was on the roofs. Angel couldn't believe his eyes. He'd seen cats do it, and monkeys on television. Kaard made it look easy. The sun was at his side so Angel could watch his shadow, gliding swiftly but gently over cars, trees, and buildings like an errant breeze.

Angel pounded dirt, sprinting to keep up his Man in sight. It was difficult. Down here, one still had to follow traffic laws and not run into other people, not to mention go around the buildings.

Angel eventually lost sight of the shadow but it was all too obvious to anyone where it was they were headed.

Angel caught back up at the Montague house, or... What was left of it...

The whole area was cordoned off with police-tape. The house was just a burnt out husk, likely to collapse at any moment. Kaard was inside, standing as far into the house as he could. It was only a few steps in because much of the floor had burned away, leaving a yawning abyss into a basement filled with ash, splintered wood, broken glass and twisted metal.

"Kaard!" Angel called, pulling him out of the house before the floor could fall out from under him, then he held his Man close to his chest. Othello's back and shoulders were already soggy with sweat. "Don't look..."

But Angel was too late, even as he covered Kaard's eyes. He'd already seen Them. These were some of the most disgusting spirits he'd ever seen. These came in various sizes and crawled over the house's remains like the inside of a termite nest. They smoked dully and some even glowed or leaped like snapping embers. But there were also long, snaking chains of them as well like sooty centipedes. But the worst one, perhaps the biggest, was in the basement. Smelling of both rotting and scorched meat.

The Spirits did this.

"Kaard--"

"You don't get to call me that, boy."

"Othello..." Angel tensed.

"Not that either..." Othello relaxed against Angel. "You get to call me 'Sir'... Understood...?"

Angel's grip loosened a bit as he tried to guess at what his Man was thinking. Why isn't he freaking out? He... He should be ranting, or screaming...Or...

"Sir..." Angel lowered his hand away from his Man's face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." Kaard said, but that couldn't be: His right eye was normal enough, but his left was that huge milky one again. He could see ripples emanating from the center, the same direction the normal eye was pointing its pupil. "Wait for me at home." Sir said pointing to the closest street corner to the house. "I'll clean up here and then find you. Am I understood?"

"N-no, Sir! Not 'understood'! Definitely NOT 'understood', Sir!" What was Kaard thinking?! What could he possibly hope to do inside house that was falling apart?!

"Then get out of here WITHOUT understanding!" Sir snarled, "Do NOT get in my way, Callahan."

Angel gulped, but he tried to be brave. He had to be brave, at least with this guy. J. said it was okay to be defiant sometimes, especially to take the chance to talk Master out of risking his life. "You can't go in there..."

Kaard blinked, and when his eyes opened, they were both normal and held the bug-look. "Why not...?"

"That whole building is coming down! If you go in and it falls on top o' ya..." Angel was growing frustrated. "Why do you need to go in there?"

"To make Them pay...?" Sir answered, slowly as if to a slow child.

"Y-you know who did this?" Angel breathed.

"Yes. They did this. Spirits. They're still here. I'm going to take them out." With that, Kaard turned and took a step toward the door.

"You... You aren't afraid of them anymore, Sir...?" Angel's eyes were wide. It's only been a week... and now he's all... 'better'...? Neil's words still echoed in his head sometimes.

Kaard smirked over his shoulder. "I don't need to be afraid anymore."

Angel's blood chilled. "Oh..."

"Now, go home, Angel."

"Yes... Okay, Sir..." Angel answered sullenly, backing away.

He's better... Just better... In ways that frighten and... "alienate".... unimportant, simple people... like me...

* * *

Kaard stepped into the house again, slipping from his pocket a roll of his homemade talismans. "I hate you, you know..." he said to the bogeys. "no matter what - NO MATTER WHAT!! - You have never let me have anything good in my life, without taking away something I need!" The bogeys all froze, and stared at him, and he could smell it, beneath the smoke and soot was fear.

"Now I'M going to take! And take! And TAKE! Until there is nothing of you left..."

_ "Not us... Please... Not us...." _the crackled and spat. _ "Show us m-mercy... We starved... but there is good things here... Things that nourished us... Pity us... Pity our King... We came for the good things to eat..." _

"And you consumed everything here?" Kaard let one of the scrolls unfurl as a long streamer. "Do you know who lived here?"

_ "My Lord, we do not... It did not mat--" _

"They were MY family! THEY MATTERED!" The last was said with a snarl so ragged that it left his throat raw, and made the spirits flinch back.

_ "Forgive! Please forgive!" _ They cried out. _ "We did not know this place was under your protection! It was all so rich here! So much Essence! You MUST understand! When we were told about this-" _

"Ah..." Kaard's temper suddenly cooled, "Told, by whom...?"

_ "Kamaitachi." _

"Sickle weasel...?" Kaard murmured.

_ "YESSSSS." _The all crackled in chorus, heat suddenly billowing from the pit.

"Where is it, now?" Kaard almost felt giddy at the prospect of meeting the fiend again. The thought actually made him smile.

They were all silent, as if weighing one evil against the other. It was a hissing voice, louder than the others that answered from the hole at his feet. _ "Hunting... It hunts the Lost Crown. It looks for the one who dwelt here... That was you, Lord...?" _

"Yes," Kaard said, "that is me."

_ "Have you use for this place any more, Lord?" _

Kaard didn't think of where he'd go after this. Of course he couldn't live here. Still... "Why do you want it?"

_ "No other place to go," _ It snapped miserably. _ "But from here, we can spread, and eat, and become strong! Leave me here, and I shall be your ally, Lord!" _

"No."

_ "N-no?!" _

Kaard flung the streamers into the pit. "Too many humans around. You can't stay."

There was a roar from inside and a gout of orange flame gushed up from the hole. Kaard drew back and wondered if the talisman had burned up. He looked up and saw it boueyed on the heat from the geyser.

"I said _ BEGONE!! _" He roared over the noise. The streamer, like an eel against a fast current, flitted around the tower of flame and disappeared into the hole. A moment later, like a candle going out, the flames died. The smaller spirits, who had only been watching, peered into the blackness. Kaard leaned over and peeked down as well. There was a small, intense glow in the darkened basement. It was a bit like looking at a lone sun from space. In his gut, he felt the paper wrap around something that strained against it.

I can't see... But I want to... It was less of a thought, and much more a subconscious acknowledgment of fact. Then, he nodded and stated clearly into the darkness. "I want to see you, 'king'..."

The light burned brighter and grew... and grew... and grew, until orange light filled the hole. How big was this thing? As it turned out, the thing was pretty damn big; at least as tall as Othello, though it was hard to tell, bound up and thrashing as it was, hovering in midair. At first glance, it looked like assorted body parts, wreathed in flame. Another glance, however revealed that the bones themselves were flame. Indeed, they as the flames leapt, the shapes warped, changing from those of one species, to become bones of another.

The skull, for the first time, faced its captor, and seemed just as surprised to see how small Kaard was. It went from small and wide-eyed, like a child's, and then stretched and scowled into something definitively reptilian. The flames bloomed with an enraged vigor and Kaard knew he wouldn't be able to hold the thing. Heat suddenly slammed him in an angry wave and Kaard had to shield his face from the oven-like sensation.

_ "MORTAL!?" _ It howled. Kaard watched the seals binding it burn. _ "A mortal CHILD, no less!? The ARROGANCE! The AUDACITY!! No... You cannot be aloud that Crown. I cannot ignore this INSULT! I claim your Crown... And your LIFE!!!" _

With that, the spirit tore through its bonds and hovered in the air, looking like a skeletal drake or demon. It belched a torrent of flame at Kaard, who had to spin, trying to keep to the wall as much as possible, to avoid the onslaught. The jet hit the wall, and then splashed in all directions, and the screamed as the flames washed over his left arm. He felt the heat, but it wasn't as bad as it should have been; more like scalding himself in the shower than having a limb blasted off.

He looked down to see how bad it was, and saw that, as much as it hurt, it was only his clothes that were scorched away. The talisman that he had clutched in his hand had coiled up around his arm. The lettering was shimmering. It had protected him, but was already smoldering at the edges.

"Oho... Oho-ho-ho-holy shit!" Kaard laughed. Then he reached into his pocket for more of the charms and tossed them at the flaming thing. "You see this?! You can't burn me! I'M the hottest thing in the room! I'LL burn YOU! Hear me?! _ BURN! " He threw the rolled up talisman as if he were T.P.'ing a house. The streamer was floated on the heat, but then, as if attracted by static, wrapped around the fire-thing. The flames around the paper turned blue and the thing roared out in pain. Othello whooped, and then roared back in triumph. "That's it, baby! Know your place, _thing!" But then his taunting died as his seals were broken again, more quickly this time. This time, he felt them break as a painful snapping sensation at the base of his skull.

He didn't have time to freak out though, but that exact moment was when the floor under his feet gave way, and he fell screaming into blackness.

Kaard was barely aware he landed, just the rush of air escaping him. He was grateful to be alive, but there was a crippling tightness in his left arm. From neck to fingertips, his arm was dead. Worse, the tightness was seeping along the left side of his chest, hindering his breathing. He tried to cry out, but only a breezy squeak came up from his throat.

That's when an orange light illuminated the gory, charred remains of his home, rotting to ash in the house's underbelly. Everything of his family-- his life - was reduced to twisted garbage. Furniture was melted and burnt, little more than smashed and charred corpses of what they used to be. They were splayed like a spike-pit. Kaard tried to turn his head, but found his nuzzling a wet, jagged piece of wood. It was slick with his own blood as it jutted out of his shoulder, just below a broken collar bone. It was miraculous that it had missed an artery. The flaming fiend descended over him, inhaling deeply the coppery smell of its wounded prey.

_ "Your blood, my lord... I will boil it from you until only your bones and the Crown remain..." _ It giggled, sparkling with anticipation. The heat, mixed with swirling ash, and damp rot, was suffocating. Unable to breathe, and barely able to see, Kaard could only watch as the fiery-thing's jaws and know that his last touch of cooling air was from his executioner inhaling...

That was when a loud chittering echoed through the chasm. Kaard opened squinty eyes and watched as the fire-thing was stared down by the funny-bird-thing. It seemed to be the same doll-faced spirit that was at Angel's a week ago. It chattered angrily, defiantly.

Kaard gave a pained giggle. "Here to help, little one...? Little late, methinks..."

It turned to him, and smiled. _ "Never too late! You still shine! Now watch me shine, Lord!" _ As it spoke, the dragon lunged, but the little one's face scrunched up, as if it were constipated, and the ball of light that hovered over it flashed, issuing as a blinding glow, brighter than the wretched flames. The flames were dispersed as if by a shock-wave, leaving the fire-thing scattered as several fire-balls, will-o-wisps. Together, they cast enough light to see by. The little one, seemingly out of breath, turned to him and grinned like a toddler who'd just finished a pretty picture.

Kaard, gave a little, surprised laugh and cupped the little one's cheek. "Very... G-good work..." Why can't I speak... Am I going into shock...?

_ "Do not sleep here, Lord," _ the little one chirped._ "It is stunned, but not dead. We must flee, Lord!" _

Kaard nodded, and lurched to break off the piece of wood. His entire left half felt crunched under a steam-roller. Then he slowly climbed to his feet. Really, he would have been happy to crawl out, but his left arm wouldn't support him, so shamble it was. He picked his way over wreckage, and made it to the collapsed staircase, following the bouncing glowing ball of the little one. It turned left, past the ruined stairs, and it took Kaard a moment to remember the tornado-doors the led to the back yard. He followed the little one up those stares and unlatched the doors. It was tortuous, trying to conjure the strength for that. His left side, though hanging useless, seared under the strain as his right shoved open the doors.

Fresh air! Cold, clean, city, outside AIR! He craved it the way nymphos craved sex! And I should know! He gulped it down with perverse gluttony. Then he started to climb out of the cellar, just as it started to heat up down there again. He dimly heard the fire-thing roar and knew it was chasing him. It'd be on him in another second, tops. "Stop that thing, little one..."

_ "Name me?" _

"Name...?" Kaard sobbed out softly. He couldn't even see straight. It was only watching the bouncing ball that kept his eyes focused enough to walk. "E... Eeee... then... E... 'D-'den... Eden...?"

Kaard felt little lips against his, and a tongue fill his mouth for just a moment. _ "Then, I be Eden! And you, are Master!" _The little one dropped away, and the orb above it popped with another blinding flash. The cellar doors slammed shut. The sounds of violence were unmistakeable.

Kaard stumbled deliriously into the alley and chuckled, half coughing blood. "I... am... Master..." He wheezed. "Lord of spirits... nice ring to it..." His knees buckled, and he had to stop or fall over completely. He laughed harder. "This Lost Crown is MINE! Hear?! _ I'M KING!! _"

_ "'King' is such a heavy, heavy burden... But if you insist on donning it, my lord, I will gladly take your head with it!!" _

Othello's blood curdled. He knew that voice. Before he could say the spirit's name, it's wind took his meager breath away.

Kamaitachi wasted absolutely no time in swinging back around, knocking Kaard off his feet from behind. He never hit the ground before it blasted him the other way. Kaard was lifted off the ground, and all he could do, was scream.

* * *

Angel was going to do as he was told, really, he was! He wanted to go home, and wait, but after hearing the sounds from inside the house, he had to stay. He felt physically constrained to the street corner. The sounds of explosions, and his Master's voice taunting. Then a crash was followed by a silence that brought with a seeming freezing of time that made Angel want to peel his skin off. Why won't he come out already? Did he win? Is he hurt? Sh-should I--?

A roar from around the back of the house shattered his fretting, and suddenly his feet were moving all on their own. He was rounding the corner and heading to the alley when he first heard the most dreadful sound he'd ever known: His Master shrieking.

The noise of it all was attracting attention. Curious people were starting to trickle from the houses, with more peering out of windows. Curiously, whenever they glanced down the alley, they twitched as if short-circuiting and wandered quickly away, looking a little confused but very dazed.

Angel plowed through anyone in his way. He'd learned that supernatural powers were hard to look at, especially without some prior form of belief. People's souls just couldn't except it, and so the brain refused to see it. J. had called it Disbelief. So Angel didn't look. He kept his eyes on the ground, but listened for his Master's screams, hoping to run into him. Instead, the shrieking seemed to pass over head. Angel stopped, turned, and looked up.

His mind shorted out, and he almost looked away, but it was the sight of his Master that allowed him to keep his mind. But the sight almost broke his heart. "'Thello... No...!"

There he was, spinning as if strapped to a top. His limbs splayed out, he shrieked into a whirlwind that suspended him in the chilly night air. Angel took a few steps forward and reached up to grasp an ankle. Something wet splashed Angel's face like mist. It stung his eyes, and when he wiped his face, he saw that it was blood. The wind was slicing his Man up, and spraying His blood around.

That was enough. Angel gripped the ankle tightly and pulled, slowly drawing Othello to his chest. As he did so, the wind whipped up around him. Angel didn't care. He marched through it, toward the street. His only concern was how slick and warm Othello felt, and the wooden stake in his chest. And how quiet Othello was being.

And how cold the wind was getting. Even through his jacket, the chill seemed to cut him to the bone. He called out to the neighbors who had inexplicably vanished. "HELP!... HELP US!!" He was starting to shiver, and this gale was impossible to breath through. He clutched Othello as he tripped and sunk to his knees. "A-Angel... Mine..." Master gave in a hoarse whisper. "I told you; go home..."

"We are, Sir..." Angel said through chattering teeth. "We're g-going home... n-now..."

"Angel-Mine.... In my pocket... little bell..."

Angel gently went through those pockets and found a glass bell, like a cat's toy. He smiled and pressed it into his Man's hand. "Saw you playin' w-w-with it last week-k-k...." He chuckled.

"Magic... Lucky charm, baby..." Othello was struggling to stay conscious, but it was slipping away from him. His eyes closed for a second, but them the left one opened as the Kaard-eye. _ "You can't have Angel. PERIOD!" _

The bell popped like a bubble and the wind died immediately. Angel, breathing a heavy sigh, started out, down the street again. Leaving that tattered remains of what used to be kamaitachi to drift away like ash in water.

Angel couldn't tell where he was going. The street lights had all seemed to go out, and it was so dark. Even the car's lights were all dimmed. Tires screeched as they swerved by, calling him names, but never stopping. Angel knew something was wrong. He should be angry, but he couldn't be. A storm that had been in his belly and mind had gone silent, leaving a hollow feeling in his head, so peaceful as to be unnerving. It happened when the bell broke. Whatever Master had done, it had cost Angel something important.

Finally, a set of tires squealed to a stop behind him, and the doors opened. Angel stopped walking and turned, but could only make out blurry shapes coming towards him. When one of them got in his face, he could see that it was another Montague.

"R-r-ri-yo...?" Angel chattered.

"No. Mac." The man said. "Who are you?"

Angel didn't answer. He tried to step forward, but his feet were heavier than cinder blocks. "Help..... H-him..." Angel started to cry, realizing he couldn't anymore for his man but hold him. He dropped to his knees and stared up at Mac. "N-needs... H-h-h-ho-spit-ta-- H-hos-pit... D-doctor... Help him!"

"Shh, buddy... I got him. I have you both..." Mac whispered. "Give him here."

"No!" Angel yelped, now almost delirious. "If I d-do, the wind'll g-get him... the b-bogeys'll..."

"Shh, Shh... No wind... No boogies," Mac said slowly. "Just me and my friend... We're just taking him to the hospital..."

"Oh, my god, Beth..." A voice said behind Angel. "His back! No wonder he's so pale!"

"Can I go too...?" Angel asked. "N-need to be... with... m'Man..."

"Of course, buddy... we'll all go together... But you need to give him to me for a little bit..."

Angel tried to stand, and when that didn't work, tried to simply raise his arms to pass Othello to Mac, or Beth, or whatever, but he felt so heavy... "I don't think I c-can... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, baby, it's okay!" Angel felt a warm hand in his hair. "Don't apologize. Really..." Then he whispered into Angel's ear. "You're serving him so well... You've earned rest..."

The world gave out from under him, and Angel was suddenly toppling over.