Sunnydale - 1998
He was never in control—not for a moment, not for a second, but oh did he try. Always there in the back of Angel’s mind, he watched everything and endured every single tortured moment. He could only whisper and taunt, provoke and annoy to an end that only sufficed in being ignored and shoved even further back, enraged. But there Angelus remained, the ever present devil, simply waiting for his moment.
He watched everything—this little fracas regarding Eyghon. Lovely fellow, he thought, think I’d get a kick out of meeting him. The comment was dismissed as usual, and so Angelus watched more, waited more, grew ever more agitated and bored.
And then it happened. Helping out the little gang with their problem? Nah, nothing to that, really. He just really wanted to fight against something that could fight back. So, he really didn’t mind too much when the plan was hastily made. The demon jumped into Angel, and once within him, the fight was on.
“Not very spacious, I’m afraid,” Angelus said, taking a moment to look the demon over. Hadn’t really expected him to be there, huh? “Only really room for one and I was here first, but I tell you what. Take your best shot. Survival of the fittest. Pretty sure surviving’s at the top of your priorities about now.”
It didn’t take much taunting. He was right. Eyghon knew it. Angelus laughed when the demon came at him. He was strong, he had to give him that. The first few blows left him reeling, unused to it. Angelus came back swinging, sheer brute force and a hundred years of pent-up aggression giving him the upperhand.
Then the demon was gone, expelled back from the body. Angelus enjoyed his triumph for a moment, watching everything with the barest of smirks. He heard Angel speak. “I’ve had a demon inside me for a couple hundred years… just waiting for a good fight.”
And about damn time, too. Now whaddya say you let me out for a bit, as a reward?
And as Angelus expected, he was ignored and shoved away again.