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Summary: What if hell was a figurative word for where Acathla was meant to draw the Earth? What if hell was a desert world in a galaxy far, far away. Can Angel protect a different Chosen One from his fate? Only time will tell.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Star Wars > Angel-CenteredBarefootXOFR1822,2650273,23325 Apr 092 Sep 10No

Fallen Angel

I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Star Wars. They belong to Joss Whedon and George Lucas respectively. Spoilers for BtVS Season II and The Phantom Menace. Parts of the first scene are taken from Becoming: Part II.


“Close your eyes…”

Angel obediently closed his eyes, relishing the sensation as Buffy kissed his lips again. He had no idea what was going on but he thought he liked it. Then, just like that, he felt a brutal piercing sensation in his chest. His eyes snapped open to see a sword sticking out of his chest like some terrible spare limb. Buffy, meanwhile, was just staring at him and doing nothing. Why wasn’t she helping him? “Buffy…?”

Angel couldn’t figure out what was going on. Here he was with a sword sticking out of his chest and all Buffy could do was watch? It was then that the memories started to assail him…

Unleashing the Judge on a crowded mall… If it hadn’t been for that rocket launcher, things would have gotten very messy…

Killing and turning Theresa Klusmeyer… She wasn’t anyone that Angel had known well, but he recalled her being friendly with Buffy…

Attacking Xander on Valentine’s Day… If it hadn’t been for Drusilla going bonkers, Angel knew full well that he’d likely have killed the boy…

Killing Jenny and leaving her in Giles’ bed dressed in lingerie… Angel could taste the sadistic pleasure Angelus had taken in leaving the poor woman there in a sick parody of a romantic evening…

Trying to kill Buffy while she had the flu… He might have even succeeded if Angelus hadn’t feared Xander for some reason…

Opening Acathla in a psychotic attempt to destroy everything… ‘Oh God, what have I done…?’

It was at that moment that the portal grasped him and Angel felt himself depart from the dimension. ‘Goodbye Buffy… I love you…’


The cool sand beneath him soothed him somewhat, even as the sword in his chest caused him unending agony. All Angel could figure was that he was somehow transported into the middle of a desert. He didn’t know or care how this had happened exactly.

All that mattered was that when the sun rose he would be dissolved into a pitiful pile of dust. Part of him felt he deserved it. Another part of him, however, spoke to him with a voice that sounded annoyingly like Xander. ‘If you give in you’re taking the easy way out. You are disgracing the sacrifice of Jenny Calendar and whoever was responsible for actually casting the curse that restored your soul…’

Much though the voice annoyed him though, Angel found he could not ignore it. It was right. And so Angel began to slowly and agonisingly work loose the sword from his chest. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do much with it still there. He was just lucky he wasn’t a normal mortal or such a wound would have been instantly fatal. That snarky, Xander-ish voice snickered at him about how ridiculous it was to consider surviving a sword through the chest to be a lucky thing. Angel had to admit he wasn’t feeling so lucky.

The process of removing the sword was not easy. As wonderfully as a vampire can heal, it requires a large amount of blood. This particular item was in short supply what with it leaking out of his massive chest wound. Regardless though, the simple act of pulling a weapon like a sword out of your body is very difficult. It’s not like an arrow where you can snap one end off to make it easily removable. The only nice thing about the process was that it kept Angel from thinking too hard about the situation that had brought him to this sauna of a place.

Finally, after two full hours of difficult work, Angel had managed to remove the sword and drop it to the ground. Even as he managed, however, he noted the first glimmerings of dawn’s early light trickling into the desert scenery. Angel was not a Master Vampire for nothing. He had a spectacular constitution and an indomitable will. Unfortunately, even these could not overcome a severe chest wound when he had neither blood to restore him nor time to drag himself away at the snail’s pace he might have been able to achieve. Angel knew even now that it was hopeless and so he gave into his body’s screaming pain and lost consciousness, figuring that he’d prefer to embrace the dawn in his sleep.


It was a complete and utter shock to Angel when he woke to find himself still alive and lying on the couch of a… hovel was the only word that seemed to describe the place. He’d seen a fair few of his fellow vamps who lived more upscale then this.

“Oh good. You’re awake.”

Angel looked up, only to lock eyes with what once might have been a very beautiful woman. Alas, it appeared as though many cares and hard toil had chiseled away at her beauty, leaving her a shadow of what she once must have been. “Where am I?”

The woman smiled and Angel was relieved to see some of the years and cares fade away when she smiled. “The Slaves Quarter…”

Angel’s eyes bulged in shock. “Slaves. Where am I that slavery is still legal?” She seemed human, after all, and there was no sign of any demon masters. This couldn’t be a hell dimension, could it?

The graying brunette sighed expressively. “Mos Espa, on Tatooine. How ever did you manage to get here if you don’t know what planet you are on?”

Tatooine? Something about that tickled at Angel’s memories, but he couldn’t nail it down. Of greater concern was the fact that he was on another planet. This could be very bad. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

The woman nodded, seeming to take him at his word. “I’m not familiar with your species. Is there anything I should know to help get you back on your feet.”

It was only then that Angel noticed the bandage on his chest and, he suspected, on his back too. He could only be grateful that Buffy had missed severing his spine. It would have just sucked to have to roll around like Spike had been doing. “I’m a vampire. I need to drink blood for nourishment. It also helps my healing along.”

The woman seemed to consider this. “I may be able to get some blood for you from the local medical unit. It would be expensive , though, and I’m afraid we don’t have much money.”

Unsure of who ‘we’ was, Angel decided to presume someone else was living there. “The type doesn’t matter. Animal blood is fine if that’s easier.”

The smile returned to the woman’s face. “Yes, that would be much easier. I can have Ani run to the butcher’s perhaps. I need some more meat for our own supper anyway.” She paused for a moment and seemed to think. “I suppose I should ask your name, sir.”

Angel grinned. “It’s Angel. And yours…?”

“Shmi Skywalker. I am pleased to meet you, Angel. Welcome to Tatooine.”


Here we go... ;)

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