Chasing Daylight
_____________________________________________________________WARNING: [PG-13] This story contains violence and blood-letting.
SPOILER ALERT: Contains general spoilers for Angel the series.
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network own these characters. I've just borrowed them for this story. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.
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His world swims and he struggles to stay conscious. He's weak from loss of blood, and everything takes on the surreal quality of a dream. The body pressed against his relaxes a little, the mouth slowing its frantic suction. His throat is numb now; the wound gives little pain. His brain feels numb, too. He feels a sense of detachment as he shoves the vampire away. He hears it curse as it loses its footing, but he's already bolting for the door.
The dream is a nightmare now, his brain shrieking commands faster than his legs can respond. He's moving, moving, but the door seems as far away as ever. He hears a snarl and knows the thing is coming after him. Then suddenly he's at the door. The nightmarish feeling lifts as it opens and he's outside. The vampire is right behind him, clutching at his jacket. Fingertips close on the fabric, but he wrenches himself free.
He hurtles forward, unable to stop the momentum that sends him rolling into the alley. He tries to get to his feet, to his knees, but his body isn't working any more. Exhaustion takes the sting out of defeat. He goes limp, waiting for the end, hoping it will be quick. The sun on his skin is strangely comforting.
Nothing happens. His heart gives a wild lurch, as he dares to hope the thing has gone. Finally he gathers the courage to look up. It hasn't left. It isn't going anywhere. His weary brain screams 'Why? Why?' The thought is drowned in the thumping of his heart as it churns on too much adrenalin and not enough blood. Then he realises, and wishes he had the strength to roll over and kiss the ground of his sunny sanctuary.
The shadows have lengthened. He wonders if he's passed out for a while. He's not sure. He knows he mustn't sleep, mustn't give in to the siren call of exhaustion. The vampire is closer now, too close. He tries to move his sluggish body, and relief washes over him when he manages to drag himself further into the light. Cruel gold eyes track his movements from the shadows. It's getting late. He tries to keep moving, but he knows he's running out of light, out of time. It becomes a race to see which moves faster, the shadows or the man.
The roar of a car engine sounds strange in this deserted neighbourhood. He feels another sickening surge of hope as the car drives by the end of the alley. He tries to wave an arm, but it's a feeble attempt. His cry for help comes out in a cracked but incongruously strong voice. The vehicle slows. Its tinted windows hide its occupants, and he can't be sure if they've heard him, whether they'll stop. The car continues, disappears behind the building where a childhood superstition suddenly came to life.
Now it's all too much for him. That was his last chance, his only chance. The sun is nearly down, the dying light turning to blood. He relaxes onto the tarmac for the last time. He closes his eyes, and gives himself up to the hovering darkness. The vampire moves closer, hungry for the aborted kill. Its mouth is a sharp red grin. The grin turns to shock as the point of a stake bursts through its chest. A certain emptiness blankets its features as they turn to dust. The man lying on the tarmac sees none of this.
He will wake in a hospital bed, weak but alive. No one will be certain how he was brought to the emergency department. The doctors will explain about the blood loss, tell him that he must have been attacked by some animal. They won't ask awkward questions. They've seen enough to know that they won't like the answers. He'll be happy enough with this. He'll probably wish that he could believe their comforting lies. But he'll go out and buy a crucifix and never go anywhere without it. For a while, he may not go out at all once it gets dark. And every time he goes to church, he'll thank God for the guardian angel who must have saved his life.
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