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Victims, aren't we all...

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Summary: Angel/Captain Jack. Set between just after the Angel Season Five episode "A Hole In The Wolrd" and ater the Torchwood Season Two finale "Exit Wounds." Spoilers for both.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Angel-CenteredTheHeartistFR1321,113032,3294 Apr 0822 Apr 08Yes

NOTE: This chapter is rated FR18

Angel of Death

Venice, 1892

Slaughtered, all of them. Jack looked around the opera house and saw the entirety of the crowd had been killed in some horrible fashion. All had their throats torn out, or their faces mutilated, e.t.c. Jack was horrified. Sure, he'd seen some horrors, but even the Daleks weren't a patch on this. The Dalek way of mass slaughter was clean, almost cold and calculating. A flash of light and then you were dead, not much pain, not really. He should know, it had only been two years since he had been killed by one himself. Of course, why he hadn't stayed dead, was another matter. No, these killings were passionate, as if the killer was revealing in the lives he took.

It was during this train of thought that Jack looked up and saw him. A man dressed in Italian finery with an almost angelic face. He was grinning cruelly from ear to ear. It was at that moment that Jack realised, it was this man. This man had been responsible. He could perhaps bring Jack the peace he wanted. Jack ran at him, and threw himself at the man, full of fury, screaming, "TAKE ME, IT'S ME NEXT!!! COME ON!!"

The man laughed almost playfully and threw him off, Jack crashing through a pile of broken seats.

"And why will you be wanting to go to your death so eagerly my friend?" the man asked.

"You haven't got a clue...all this...means nothing. You mean nothing. You're a means to an end. Now kill me, and be done with it," Jack snarled, disgusted with himself that the man that could possilby bring him the death he wanted was a murdering psychopath.

The man approached Jack, who was now on his knees, and took ahold of Jack's head.

"Just one thing...your name...I want the name of the man to finally end it," Jack asked him.

"My name...I go by Angelus, my boy. And your name...no, it doesn't matter anymore," Angelus replied, as he swiftly snapped Jack's neck and left his body for the rats.

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So that's what happened.

Angel sat up in his chair after fully reading Jack's report. Why wasn't he dead? He'd have known if the man was a vampirem even Angelus in his bullish way would have been able to sense it. He was definately a living breathing human. Then how had he lasted the centuries? And why hadn't he stayed dead? Angel sat back again, pondering what the chance encounter had all meant.

Still, no time to think too much on it now...he had a good fight to fight.

The End

You have reached the end of "Victims, aren't we all...". This story is complete.

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