Angel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vampdetective) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2014-03-18 12:43 pm
vampdetective) wrote in entrancelogs2014-03-18 12:43 pm
Entry tags:
[CLOSED] And went down just like they said he would;
Who: Angel & Tom Hanniger
Where: The clinic.
When: Backdated to shortly after Tom's return.
Rating: R
Summary: Angel has questions, while Tom has some choice words for the whistleblower.
The Story:
Angel wasn't a doctor. Regardless, he had agreed that the clinic was likely the best place for Tom, a place where they would be able to keep an eye on him until he came back, and once he did, keep him in once place until they figured out what the hell to do. He was still dissatisfied with what information he'd been able to gather in the meantime. He'd taken care of each of the crime scenes while awaiting Tom's return, been to Tom's own room in search of clues and found nothing that gave him enough to make him feel confident on any kind of verdict. Guilty was obvious enough, but they still didn't know if this was because of some kind of outside influence -- or just malice. Maybe just plain crazy.
He hated the idea of dismissing anything as the latter. Didn't seem fair, but he'd met people who lived up to the name. Hell, he'd created them: Drusilla had been his masterpiece, and he had broken her down until she was less than a person and unable to function on her own. He knew 'crazy' rather intimately. He regretted it.
He had asked that the clinic be mostly empty when he arrived, and due to the fact that there were no other patients present, they would have privacy. While he doubted Tom would be pleased to see him in any sense of the word, this was necessary. Painful, but necessary. His hands were deep in the pockets of his coat as he approached the partition at the far end, clearing his throat softly as he appeared around the edge, only a few short feet from Tom's bed.
He looked like hell. Angel hadn't expected anything less.
"I know you don't want to see me. We need to talk."
Where: The clinic.
When: Backdated to shortly after Tom's return.
Rating: R
Summary: Angel has questions, while Tom has some choice words for the whistleblower.
The Story:
Angel wasn't a doctor. Regardless, he had agreed that the clinic was likely the best place for Tom, a place where they would be able to keep an eye on him until he came back, and once he did, keep him in once place until they figured out what the hell to do. He was still dissatisfied with what information he'd been able to gather in the meantime. He'd taken care of each of the crime scenes while awaiting Tom's return, been to Tom's own room in search of clues and found nothing that gave him enough to make him feel confident on any kind of verdict. Guilty was obvious enough, but they still didn't know if this was because of some kind of outside influence -- or just malice. Maybe just plain crazy.
He hated the idea of dismissing anything as the latter. Didn't seem fair, but he'd met people who lived up to the name. Hell, he'd created them: Drusilla had been his masterpiece, and he had broken her down until she was less than a person and unable to function on her own. He knew 'crazy' rather intimately. He regretted it.
He had asked that the clinic be mostly empty when he arrived, and due to the fact that there were no other patients present, they would have privacy. While he doubted Tom would be pleased to see him in any sense of the word, this was necessary. Painful, but necessary. His hands were deep in the pockets of his coat as he approached the partition at the far end, clearing his throat softly as he appeared around the edge, only a few short feet from Tom's bed.
He looked like hell. Angel hadn't expected anything less.
"I know you don't want to see me. We need to talk."
no subject
It isn't fair at all. Not in a world filled with magic. In a world where literally anything is possible. It's a fucking joke that someone so normal, so otherwise white bread Americana good 'ol boy would go so bad.
And for no other reason than he was already sick.
Wonderland didn't do this to him, he did this to wonderland. He dragged this evil in with him when he was snatched up. When his life was spared at that last second.
It dawned on him that there is a very real reason Axel's gun is waiting for him if he ever goes back home. There is an absolute, real reason for Sarah not to trust him. That Axel was right. That everyone was right and it's fucking destroyed him.
He is disgusting, a monster, the threat he's run from for so long. He never managed to escape it because he was carrying it around with him the entire time. And then when the world broke and he broke and Wonderland swallowed him up and spat him back out into a Whole New Situation... a place where he had a chance to escape his past and the shit that goes along with it..
He never stood a chance. Harry has been his shadow for ten years, why would that ever stop now?
And so of course he knows what happened had to happen. He doesn't blame Jo or anyone for that matter save himself.
Save his fucking asshole future self that either hates himself enough to pull this, engineering it into the fucking spectacle it has become, or there is another reason but he didn't think to explain it to anyone.
Simply put, Tom Hanniger is a man who has lost everything.
He turns his head upon hearing someone approach, wetting his dry lips and thinking maybe it was Sam again, or Martha... Maybe Dean would finally show up to give him the pounding he deserves but-
No.
This asshole.
Tom resigns himself to a look of mild indifference but that is far from how he feels, a curling tendril of disgust furling up from the darkness in his gut. And he can't help himself.
"Fuck you."
It doesn't have to be a rational response. He doesn't want to talk to the whistle blower.
no subject
He knew full well Tom wouldn't be happy to see him. Tom had plenty of right to be pissed, to be angry that Angel had called him out, had made damn sure people knew it wasn't safe to put their trust in him, but he didn't regret it for a second. All he regretted was not being able to put a stop to it sooner. He could have saved so many more lives, but--
No. 'Could have' wasn't going to help any of them now.
He wordlessly went to lean against the wall to Tom's right, folding his arms over his chest, his face stone and unflinching.
"Believe it or not, but I'm on your side. More than most people. I'm not sorry I tried to get people out of your path and I'm not sorry I tried to stop you from hurting anyone else, but I do wish that the evidence had added up to something different."
Even moreso, he wishes he'd been able to get there before Jo shot him.