Killing Me Softly -- by Claddagh girl


Rating: G

Description: Angel is haunted by memories of his little sister Kathy.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to god, I mean Joss! Thanks for letting us borrow them xxx.


The setting sun was turning a deep shade of blood red in the Los Angeles evening sky. Angel stood a prisoner in the office doorway, waiting for it to disappear completely, allowing the darkness of the night to take its place, granting him access to the world.

Standing in the shadows he took yet another look at his watch impatiently and wondered if his fiery nemesis was lingering a little later than usual tonight, just to taunt him. Casting its warm rays on the people walking freely up and down the street. A sensation Angel can barely recall.

A young girl skiped past outside holding on to her mother’s hand. She spied Angel lurking behind the big heavy doors of his building and smiled at him unaware of the many burdens he carries. The red ribbons on the end of her pig tails bounced up and down as she skiped, triggering fond memories in his mind.

He gazed up at the horizon and his thoughts rewound back to happier times, times when he was still living, breathing, flesh and blood and to visions of his little sister Kathy running in the fields of Galway, playing hide and seek with her beloved brother.

A nostalgic smile disturbed his characteristically stiff lips as he remembered the affection they shared... Stroking her hair as she slept in his arms, under a tree in a meadow one summers evening... And the time when he had returned home in a drunken stupor only to be confronted by their father’s rage. She had defended him and took him to bed proclaiming with naive indignation that his staggering, alcohol drenched, figure had been stricken by some sudden illness, so their father would withdraw his fist and allow him to recover. She had sat beside his bed all night, talking to him until he was sober enough to handle his father should he return to check up on his good for nothing son.

Even though the age gap between them had been great, they had been so close, best friends.

Still now, two hundred and forty seven years later, if he closed his eyes and drew a deep enough breath he could smell the perfume from the small posy of wild flowers she had so proudly presented him with on his last birthday... Before he changed.

Her hands were covered in stains from the sap and she had sacrificed one of her favourite hair ribbons to bind them all together. Her faced beamed with joy as she handed them over, he hadn’t had the heart to tell her that most of them were weeds because for all he cared they might as well have been a bunch of delicate red roses. All that mattered to him was the love that was tied up in that little strip of satin.

Poor innocent Kathy.

He loved her and missed her so much he often feared his cold, stiff heart would shatter into a thousand pieces and would be blown away in the breeze.

He had much to regret about his life, before he was cursed by gypsies and given back his soul he had murdered more people than he dared to count, but he thought about her the most. It was her sweet face that haunted him every night in his dreams.

The terror in those eyes, that had only ever looked at him with love, was too much to bare.

Drinking the blood from her neck and holding her in his arms that final time, a single tear ran down her cheek as she whispered her dying words... "Dearest Liam, I knew you would come back to me... my angel."

Staring death in the face, this child so full of grace, found the spirit to praise her brother, loving him till the bitter end.

A tired sigh left his mouth as Cordelia’s slapping footsteps interrupted his trail of thought. She had been standing behind him all the while, observing the myriad of painful expressions on the old man’s face as he lost himself in time. She approached him gently, placing a concerned hand on his large frame and looked up into the young face that belied his real age.

"Penny for them?"

She knew full well he would make something up, he wouldn’t tell her the truth. For some reason, whenever he was really down in the dumps he would always tell her that he had been thinking about Buffy because she knew he hated to talk about his lost love and would leave him alone.

But Cordelia wasn’t stupid and she knew Angel better than he thought. She had stopped believing the ‘I miss Buffy, woe is me’ speech a long time ago, but he still wouldn’t let her in, and that was all she asked of him.

"It’s nothing."

He couldn’t bring himself to say that he had murdered his own sister so he decided not to offer an explanation.

"I know you’re not allowed to be happy Angel, but there’s nothing wrong with just being content. Whatever it is... Let it go."

He straightened up from leaning on the wall, realising she is just trying to help. Trying to make him believe that her forgiveness alone was enough to erase the sins of his past, and while he appreciated the sentiment they both knew it was a futile gesture. He would never be able to ‘let it go’, he was a vampire with a soul, his whole purpose in life was to suffer, regret and try to make amends for the horrific things he has done. He looked back through the glass in the doors seeing that the sun had finally surrendered to the moon, giving him an excuse to leave and to take his memories with him.


After patrolling fruitlessly for a few hours around the dark back streets of the demon infested city, Angel got tired and decided to go home. It was still early but it had been a quiet night and he didn’t feel like walking around just for the sake of it. Although he was supposed to be a creature of the night, lately he had found himself awake for longer during the day, he had hardly slept for weeks.

This wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t slept. His nightmares had been becoming more and more vivid and every time he saw Kathy she seemed so real. He could smell her hair and when she touched him it sent a shiver down his spine and he could taste her warm blood in his mouth all over again. He felt sick at the thought of going to sleep, so more often than not, he just sat quietly in his armchair reading until the sun came up bringing Cordelia and Wesley to rescue him from the silence.

Having removed all his amour, his feet automatically took him towards his bed, he stopped in front of it reluctant to climb under the covers, but he could avoid it no longer, he had to sleep sometime. He lay on his back pulling the quilt over himself and folded his arm over his face, sighing. "I’m coming Kathy." He hadn’t realised just how exhausted he really was and fell unconscious before he had chance to get comfortable. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed, then stopped. His chest wa still as he slept.

The dream was always the same, he was sitting under her favourite tree at the bottom of the garden of their Irish home, waiting with a heavy heart for her to come to him. He could feel a soothing breeze on his skin as he watched the flowers swaying back and forth in the sun. Kathy walked up to him smiling, carrying her rag doll in her arms. Sitting beside him, he put his arm around her holding her warm body close to his own. She felt so soft and tiny in his embrace as though she were a doll herself.

She looked up at her brother with a frown on her face.

"You’ve been away such a long time, I missed you." Her accent always made him smile. He stroked her dark hair and replied softly.

"I’m here now, don’t worry."

"I thought you’d left me forever this time, I was scared...Don’t ever leave me Liam."

"I could never leave you." He kissed her on the head reassuringly as she nuzzled deeper into his chest.

They sat peacefully together for a moment as if they had all the time in the world content to be in each other’s company. Then, in a small frightened voice came the question that tore him apart each night.

"Why did you kill me?" She sits up again looking directly at him waiting for an answer, her face all wrinkled with confusion and pain.

"Did I do something to hurt you?"

He could only hang his head in shame as tears started to sting in the corners of his eyes.

"I’m sorry Kathy... I’m so sorry, it wasn’t your fault."

Taking his head in her hands and holding up his face, forcing him to look at her, she kissed him on the forehead lovingly and said...

"You are a monster. A beast of pure evil..."

Her sincere expression and the soft tone of her voice told him she wanted to forgive him and tell him everything would be alright but she couldn’t change the words that came out of her mouth. It was just a dream, designed to make him suffer and no matter how much her ghost wanted to let him hear those words of compassion, how much she loved him, she could only ever condemn him for taking her life.

"Only a savage, unholy creature would murder a child... You took pleasure from watching me die in your arms...I hate you."

Angel’s heart exploded inside his chest. As it did every night for the last two and a half centuries.

She looked up towards the sky as the clouds began to darken and faint rumbles of thunder sounded in the distance.

"It’s time."

He grabbed hold of her hands and pleaded with her desperately.

"Please no Kathy, don’t make me do it again."

She stood up pulling him up with her and tilted her head to one side. She moved her hair out of the way revealing her bare neck.

"You know the rules..." A tear fells down her face. "Do it."

Angel staggered towards her unable to control the demon inside. His vampire face presented itself as he fell to his knees and leaned towards her opening his mouth and preparing to bite. His teeth sank into her flesh effortlessly with a nauseating squelch as she shook in his grasp, sobbing wildly, until all life had been drained away from her.

A surge of immense pain welled up inside his chest ovewhelming him and caused him to collapse on the ground, a distraught quivering wreck. Her body laying limp on the ground beside him.

How much more of this torment he could take, he didn’t know, he was just about to find out as the clouds rolled back and Kathy sats beside him once again, full of life and staring into his eyes, about to ask a question.


 

Hours later Angel still continued to see his sister’s face as he sent her to a premature grave. Suddenly he heard a voice in the distance.

"Angel wake up!"

"Kathy?" He mumbled sharply. A deep growl emanated from his throat as he was brought back to reality by Cordelia shaking him violently, and her horrified face looking down on him. She slumped back down on to his bed, holding her hand over her heart.

"God you scared the living daylights out of me! I came in and saw you weren’t breathing, I thought you were..." She was just about to say the word but Angel said it for her.

"Dead?" Arching his eyebrows sarcastically.

She realised he was already dead, although not in the strictest sense of the word and smiled sheepishly humiliated by her momentary memory lapse.

"And the award for ‘Dumb Ass Of The Year’ goes to..." She said mocking herself for the seemingly obvious mistake.

"I’m sorry."

Angel sat up and wiped his face with the back of his hand, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tear stains.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He looked down at the quilt and started to fiddle with it trying to avoid her inquisitive glance.

"Oh... I couldn’t sleep. I kept having this nightmare over and over again, it was really horrible."

"I know what that feels like." He said tracing his index finger over the paisley patterned spread, still trying not to let her see his face.

"I thought you’d be wide awake and that you might like some company." She said quietly before continuing hesitantly.

"Angel... Who’s Kathy?"

Angel’s eyes widened as he flashed her a look.

How could she possibly know about Kathy? He thought to himself ..

I’ve never really told her much about my family.

"She was my sister, why do you ask?" A wave of panic swept over his face and almost crumbled the nonchalant expression he was trying so hard to keep in place.

"That’s what you blurted out when I was trying to wake you." His panic hadn’t gone unnoticed and she gave him a soft punch in the arm in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You really are a deep sleeper you know."

He finally looked up at her noticing the weariness in her eyes, she seemed genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I know." He replied rubbing the patch of skin where her fist had connected.

"So do you want to talk about her? or should I just mind my own business and let you go back to sleep?"

"I don’t really want to do either." He got up out of bed and went to the closet and retrieved his clothes.

Studying the eagle tattoo on his back as he dressed, Cordelia realised that there were so many things about Angel and his life that she didn’t know. So many secrets locked up in a box that she just couldn’t open.

He was her best friend but he was a mystery to her.


The lock sprang open and landed on the damp grass in front of Cordelia’s feet.

"This is it right?" She whispered to Angel quietly as she stashed the bolt croppers back inside her duffel bag.

"I think so." He pushed open the large rusty gate and expelled some unneeded air from his lungs with a loud huff.

"I don’t know why but for some reason I thought they would have built a parking lot over it by now."

They walked through the gates and headed towards the back where they assumed the oldest graves would be. Angel stumbled and almost crashed into a new headstone but Cordelia caught him just in time to save him from the embarrassment.

"You okay?" She held on to him tightly until he regained his composure and then put her arm through his to give him some support.

"I’m not sure I want to do this anymore." He looked straight at her but she was too busy trying to prevent her feet from stepping on any unmarked graves.

"Look Angel, you didn’t drag me all the way to Ireland by the grossest means possible, just so you can turn chicken on me now. We’re going to find Kathy’s grave and you’re gonna do whatever it is you need to do, say whatever you need to say, and the sooner the better because if I have to spend one more night in that mangy, bathroom free, rotten excuse for a hotel then I’m gonna... Well... Do something."

She pulled his hand hard and set off again through the cold drizzly rain.

"Come on."

He didn’t understand why she was protesting now, after all, it had been her idea to make the trip back to Galway and to try and make peace with Kathy’s ghost. She needed him to do it for her own sanity as well as for his.

The nightmare she had had a month ago turned out to be the same one Angel had been having. She had become a spectator in all his dreams and it had got to the point where neither of them dared to go to sleep.

Angel had felt violated that she now knew so much about him and she could see what was going on inside his head but more importantly he felt guilty. They were his memories, there to torture him and he didn’t want her to go through the same anguish, she had done nothing wrong. Picking on Xander and Willow all through high school didn’t really compare to the devastation that Angelus had caused over the years and it certainly didn’t warrant subjecting her to all the misery and pain he had grown acustomed to.

He could see it was tearing her apart and slowly killing her, her mind couldn’t cope with all the horror she saw everytime she slept.

They searched the entire grounds of the cemetary and had almost given up hope of finding the grave when they found themselves in an overgrown section that didn’t really look like it belonged to the rest of the yard. There was an old sign partially hidden behind a rhododendron that read ‘Pre- 1800.’ in fancy lettering.

"Angel... Over here." Cordelia held back the branches as Angel walked towards her and looked at the sign with a new sense of dread.

Passing through the leafy archway was like passing through a time warp.

They looked at their surroundings, everything was different. There wasn’t a shiny new marble slab to be seen, everything was made of stone and beautifully carved, each headstone a work of art. A lot like the cemeteries they were used to seeing back in Sunnydale, the cemetery capitol of the world.

There’s no place like home. Cordelia thought to herself as the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

Angel walked further in amongst the graves recognising some of the names on the tombs and headstones. They had been worn away with time and were difficult to read but he knew who they were. He looked down at the small weathered block in front of him, it read... ‘Anne- Marie, taken from us. 1754.’ He hunched over in pain as the face of a young woman flashed before him. Cordleia grabbed him quickly

"It’s alright." She said struggling with his weight.

"I remember... Oh God... I did this, I did this to them." He started to cough and vomited blood all over her trainers.

Cordelia started to cry. She couldn’t stop herself.

"Stop it you’re scaring me Angel... I’ve never seen you like this. God!" She wiped his mouth with the sleeve of her coat and held up his face.

"We have to get this over with and then we can go home."

"You’re right." He wiped her eyes and they stood up together. "I just hope it’s enough."

"Okay, well... First thing we need to do is find the right grave, then hey presto." She said with a snivel and scraped away the hair that was clinging to her wet face.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Angel held his hand over his stomach.

"I’ll be fine, just give me a minute." He was visibly shaking from head to toe with the shock of being so violently sick.

Cordelia peered in to the darkness and spotted a large structure to the left, just to the side of an ancient and spooky looking tree.

"You stay here and I’ll take a look over there by that big tomb."

He didn’t like the idea of her wondering off out of his sight but he was in no position to argue with her. She swung her bag over her shoulder and slowly made her way to the tomb, carefully checking the names on each grave she passed. Every few steps she looked back in Angel’s direction to make sure has was alright.

The past month had really taken it’s toll on both of them and this was their last hope of laying Kathy’s ghost to rest and possibly ending the nightmares they shared. They were exhausted, completely drained of every last ounce of energy they had ever possessed and had finally turned to Willow in the hope that maybe ‘Wicca’ could save them, before one of them wasted away.

But what if it doesn’t work? What then?

She couldn’t help but panic, there was nothing left to try and Willow couldn’t give them any guarantees that the spell she had given them would work either.

Was she destined to spend the rest of her days having her head invaded by visions of death and mayhem?

Man I hope this works.

She looked again towards Angel, he wasn’t there.

O’ oh!

She spun around frantically, searching for his tall figure but she couldn’t see him anywhere. She retraced her steps back to where she had left him.

Maybe he has collapsed and I just can’t see him for the headstones?

Reaching the final resting place of ‘Anne - Marie’ Cordelia found the puddle of blood he’d projected on the ground, but no Angel.

This isn’t funny, where the hell are you?

She was failing miserably to dispel the feeling of panic gathering in the pit of her stomach when she saw something move out of the corner of her right eye.

It was Angel. He was standing with his back to her with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed a little way ahead.

Thank God!

He had found his devoted sister’s grave and was already trying to make peace with her, professing how sorry he was and that he knew he could never change what had happened. If only he could.

Unsure if she should interrupt him, she mumbled quietly.

"Hey you."

If he had heard her and wanted to be disturbed he would have acknowledged her presence, but he gave no sign and continued his conversation with the earth.

Okay, I guess you need some Angel time now hu?

She felt awkward and didn’t know what to do with herself so decided to hang around but not daring to venture too far away.

Oh well. All this will soon be over, I hope! And I can get me a good nights sleep, or two... Or three.

What bliss awaited her.

She wandered around a large stone statue of a naked woman holding a huge vessel of water. She guessed it was for holding water but she wasn’t really sure, and didn’t really care that much to be honest. It was just another statue, she had seen so many on her adventures with the ‘Scooby gang’.

If you could call them adventures.

Suddenly she got a wierd, icky feeling inside and her eyes were drawn to a pile of rubble concealed beneath a robust crop of weeds. For some reason she felt compelled to go over and investigate. She bent down and pulled back the greenery and found fragments of a headstone that had long since been destroyed.

A desicrated grave.

Some people have no respect for the dead!

She angrilly cleared away as much of the weeds and moss as she could without getting too dirty and tried to fit the pieces back together. She laid them all out in front of her and moved them around until the words inscribed on the stone made sense. What she saw right in front of her made her feel ill. She couldn’t believe it. There, on the ground, caked in moss and slime was something she had never expected to see, something she had never imagined even existed.

"Liam. Beloved Son. 1727 - 1753."

Oh my god... Angel.

She clutched her hand over her mouth in case he heard her and struggled to hold back fresh tears.

Beloved son? That’s got to be a joke? He was so loved they smashed it up and left it here to rot! How could they do this??!!

She looked up at her friend and it dawned on her that he shouldn’t be standing there pouring out his heart, he should be here in the ground, resting. The realisation that he had indeed been a ‘beloved son’ or at least a ‘beloved brother’ hit her hard and that the chunks of stone had been left as a monument to the demon that took his body and as a reminder of all of the suffering it had bestowed upon Galway’s past.

But still!

She thought about returning the rubble to its previous state and covering it again with the weeds but that would only make her the same as those who had performed the act of vandalism in the first place. Instead she would leave it to greet the morning sun because somewhere inside of Angel, Liam was still alive and he deserved to be remembered!

Cordelia spotted a patch of Bluebells growing amid the rampant weeds and picked a handful. She pulled out the elastic band that was kepping her hair tied back and wound it around the flowers. She kissed the sprig and placed it on the stone.

Rest in peace.

"What are you doing?"

Angel’s voice startled her and she quickly jumped up and stood in front of his grave concealing it from his view.

"Nothing... Do you want me to do the spell now?"

He tried to look behind her but she wouldn’t let him so he relented and started back towards Kathy’s grave.

"This way." He said glumly and with red eyes, he had obviously shed a few more tears himself.

Kathy’s grave looked so different from Angel’s. It had a wrought iron picket fence that ran all around its perimeter and there was a little dove carved into the top of it by her name. To the right of it were his parent’s graves. They had all been burried together, but without him.

It seemed even more tragic as Cordelia stole a sly glance back at his reconstructed resting place.

She opened up the bag and took out a white feather from a plastic container and a note book with the spell carefully written in it. She gave the feather to Angel.

"Hold it over your heart. Okay?"

He held it up to his chest as she fumbled trying to find the right page.

Here goes...

Cordelia was nervous, she had never actually performed a spell by herself, it had always been left up to Willow and she didn’t like the idea that her first venture into the craft had to be such a significant one. It was for Angel, it had to work.

Angel closed his eyes and imagined Kathy’s face as Cordelia began to read the words aloud.

"Spirit of guidence and protector of the lost... I come before you in the name of love and faith and ask that you assign yourself to this child, Kathy... Cast all darkness from her restless soul....Free her from this eternal torement and grant here peace here after."

Angel leant forward and placed the feather on the grass while Cordelia closed the book and took a huge breath and waited. Hoping if the magic failed, that good old fashioned honesty and a pure heart would be enough to get the job done.

Nothing happened.

Two grief stricken hearts sank deeper into despair as the rain came down harder and the little white feather lost its shape and refused to tear itself away from the ground.

Cordelia’s arms flew up in the air with frustration but she said nothing, only a dissapointed look on her face, and stormed her way out of the grave yard. Angel looked down at Kathy’s grave and the feather, he wasn’t ready to leave but he couldn’t let her go out into the night alone so he wrenched himself away and chased after her.


It was almost day break when they got back to their hotel. Cordelia unlocked the door to their room and threw her bag in the corner and went to close the blinds. Angel stuck his head around the door to make sure he wasn’t about to step straight into direct sunlight and then sat down on the king sized bed that they had been forced to share for the past few days.

Neither had slept in it, they had been trying too hard to stay awake.

"So what now?" Cordelia joined him on the bed and faced him.

Angel didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t sure if the spell had worked either. He had expected some sort of indication that it had and when there wasn’t one he felt as though the whole trip had been complete waste of time.

"I guess we find out." He offered with a cautious look on his face.

They lay down with their backs to each other, still fully clothed and fidgeted until they both found a comfortable spot on the bag of springs that barely resembled a mattress.

"Angel... I’m afraid." She said tucking her hands under her head and pulling up her knees. "Hold me?"

He was a little taken aback by her request but he knew she didn’t mean it in ‘that’ way. They were friends, not lovers, so he rolled over on to his side and put his arm around her waist.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Cordelia was already fast asleep.


The rain stopped.

The sun rose high in the sky and began to heat up the earth, evaporating all the moisture from the ground.

A light breeze swirled around a grave yard finding its way through a leafy arch and to a broken clump of thistles and dandelions.

It circled momentarily around a stone jigsaw then lifted its head and glided over to a monument that belonged to a young Irish girl named Kathy.

The breeze gently swept up a tiny white feather and floated it back to the patch of weeds, placing it beside a sprig of bluebells.

It spun itself around again gathering momentum and with all the force it could muster, it hoisted them both up into the air and carried them off into the ether.

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