406: Rude awakening. On all counts

[notstakedyet.livejournal.com]

Angelus slept.

In his dreams he was in the sunlight. Buffy was by his side and he was... human, which just had to be wrong. Yet in the moment as he held her small hand in his it didn't matter.

They were talking. She called him Angel, and on her hand was a wedding ring that matched his own.

She was pregnant. That's what they were talking about. They were laughing and joking about names, and paint color for the baby room. He sang soft, off-key lullabies to the unborn child. He whispered to it about how he would love and care for it until the day he died.

It was their lives, together. Everything he could have ever wanted. An entire world, so absolutely per...

A loud noise distracted him. At first he thought it was a car crash. He went to grab Buffy, to keep her safe, but then the lights went out. He couldn't see. Or he could see but it wasn't Buffy, it was Dru. She was holding a squid in her arms and laughing at him, singing a mocking refrain of the same lullabye he'd just been singing and the sound of it made him dizzy. Made him want to throw up. Something was wrong, very wrong. The entire world was out of control and Buffy was disappearing, her and the child turning to dust right in his hands. He wanted to cry out, to grab on to her and hold her so that she couldn't escape but it was impossible. She screamed, tears streaming down her face as her body filled with pain and the thought of it lanced right through him and -

- and -

And he started laughing. Because oh yes, Buffy was dying and the world was ending and if you didn't find that God damn funny and just about the most perfect happiness you could ever come across then what in the hell was wrong with you?

Angelus woke up, laughing hysterically as though he'd just heard the best joke in all the world. He sat up, feeling chipper. Upbeat. Downright cheerful. There was no pesky soul bothering him, no conscience that had to be his guide, and each day brought new opportunities for destruction, mayhem, and -

And then he remembered the events of the day before.

Loudly, certainly loud enough for the entire fourth floor to hear him, he shouted "SON OF A BITCH!"

Angelus grabbed his things and stormed out of the room. It was entirely possible that there wasn't enough bleach and holy water in the world to scrub the memory of being - gag - soul boy for a day out of his system, but he wasn't going to find that out for lack of trying.

Woe to anyone who got in his way.

[ooc: going to be on and off all day today, but I believe _wespryce wanted first crack at him. So if his player's around, hop in. If not, assume Angelus stomped off to go sulk brood scrub himself down with steel wool]