The Mighty Belthazor

After talking to people like Callisto and Dean and reading Veronica's email about dealing with his ghost, Bel had finally realized he needed to confront her and the memory he was suppressing. He remembered Claire, he remembered killing her, but there had been something else he was hiding from.

Choice. That was it. he lied to himself when he said he didn't have a choice to do the things he'd done. He'd made the choice when he killed Claire -- embrace the demon side, not the human. His choice hadn't ended his abuse at the hands of Vornac and the others, and he bore it as he had to, but as he honed his powers and grew stronger, he was able to fight back. Even at his young age, he became one of the most powerful demons in the Underworld, desperately trying to earn the respect he craved and the demon in him demanded.

He'd returned to the South Attic after Claire had disappeared. Phoebe was sleeping, so he settled in a chair by the bed, watching her. Claire didn't appear again that night, and he had the sense she was really gone. He'd given her what she wanted.

Today was the trip to Coruscant. He almost didn't feel up to it, but maybe getting away for a little while would be good for him.

Bel didn't have any workshops today but he woke early and couldn't fall back asleep, his mind troubled. Until he had heard about it on the radio last night, he hadn't remembered it was Father's Day yesterday. He had no father to call, of course -- his mother had seen to that years ago. He barely remembered Benjamin Turner; after all, he'd purposely tried to forget him while dealing with the shame of his human side as he grew up in the Underworld.

His father must have loved him. When he discovered what his wife was, he tried to take his son and flee rather than leaving him behind. If he'd left Bel, he might have escaped. But Elizabeth pursued them, and still Benjamin tried to protect his son. And Elizabeth killed him for it.

He couldn't help but wonder what his father would think of him and the sacrifice he'd made now.

After his conversation with Veronica in the stairwell, Bel eventually made his way up to the attic. He sank wearily down on the couch, his face in his hands. This day couldn't get worse, could it?

[ooc: locked to Phoebe, specific details of their conversation are nfb.]

After drinking himself into a stupor at Caritas after saying goodbye to Angel, Bel shimmered back to the South Attic. Unfortunately, being exceptionally drunk, he appeared about three inches above the floor and went sprawling to the carpet. He lay there for a long moment, waiting for Phoebe. The noise surely would've awoken her. But the attic was dark and quiet. Phoebe wasn't there.

He staggered to the bedroom, yanking open drawers and tossing the contents on the floor until he found what he was looking for: the snowglobe he'd stolen from Angel months before. He'd been meaning to give it back and didn't know why he was still holding on to it. Too late now.

He raised his arm to throw the snowglobe against the wall but stopped himself just before the orb left his hand. Sinking back down to the floor, his back against the bed, he stared at the snowglobe cradled in his hands. Phoebe wasn't here. His best friend had left. Hell, even Lindsey was gone. Not since he was a child in the Underworld had he ever felt this alone.

Bel woke up, confused. Why was Phoebe sleeping in his bed? Now he was going to have girl cooties!

He shimmered (wheee!) out of the bed and to the kitchen, pouting when he couldn't find anything to eat. Deciding to quest in search of breakfast, he shimmered (wheee!) out of the room.

After his visit to Veronica, Bel spent the rest of the day avoiding people. It had been hard enough to talk to her, and he knew he couldn't deal with running into anyone else he'd hurt during any of his stupid schemes to bring Angelus back. Not when the guilt was so fresh. So he didn't go to his classes and spent the day in hiding.

He finally shimmered back to the attic late that night. He knew Phoebe would be frantic (more guilt) but he couldn't bear to face her either, and hear her words of trust and love when he didn't deserve any of it.

He found Phoebe asleep on the couch. Carefully picking her up so he didn't wake her, he carried her into the bedroom and tucked her into bed. He settled in a chair next to the bed, watching her sleep, wishing he was the good man she thought he was.