by Kathryn A
Angel, drowning sorrows, finds he's not the only one. Post-'I Will Remember You'
Challenge: tth_drabbles #72 Forgotten and Remembered
"And she doesn't even remember!"
The lights in Caritas were dim. Angel ignored the off-key warbling from the kareoke singer on stage, and gulped at his seventh drink. Or was it the eighth one? The waitress had been taking away each glass as she'd brought him a new one, so he couldn't just count the empties to keep track.
"That's what you get for changing history," his drinking companion said grimly. "There's always a price. Be thankful your price was only memory."
Angel knew the fellow wasn't human. He didn't have any obvious signs of demonhood (apart from wearing a leather jacket in the heat of an LA summer) but he didn't smell human. There was something odd about his pulse, too; the drumbeat of his heartbeat was an oddly syncopated rhythm. Angel wasn't at all tempted to find out what the stranger's blood tasted like, which was a relief. No iron self-control required.
"You don't know what it's like," Angel complained.
"My companions had their memories wiped," the other snapped. "Everything we'd ever done together, erased, like they'd never known me. Don't you tell me I don't know what it's like!"
"What do you do?"
"We remember for them."