Angel woke at the first ring of the telephone, as he always did. His first thought was that it was Wesley - that something was wrong - but then he remembered that Wesley would telephone him no more. He ignored his confusion at the sadness of this thought and picked up the receiver.

'Angel?'

'Buffy?' He sat up in bed and looked at the clock, rubbing his hand through his hair. 'What's wrong?'

'Does there have to be something wrong for me to call?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. Well, it's. err. Spike..'

'I'm really not interested in what Spike is doing, unless you tell me it has something to do with rings and Bach.'

'He has his soul back. Angel? Angel? Are you still there?'

'It's a trick. It would be easy for him to fool you.'

'It's not just that. Can you come?'

'No.'

'Angel? You have to!'

'No.'

'I need you to.'

'We don't do this anymore, Buffy. I can't do this anymore; you know that.'

'It's not for me. It's for him.'

'No.'

'Angel. He has a soul. It changes everything.'

'This can't be happening. How? How did it happen?'

'I don't know.'

'Didn't you ask him?'

'You need to come, Angel, and see him for yourself. I can't explain like this..'

'Ask him how he got it; then call me back.'

'Angel! Don't hang up on me! I can't talk to him. He's. he's all crazy.!'

***************

They came again, one after the other with no respite. Buffy seemed slightly more real this time, but he could never be sure and did not risk trying to be sane with her. She went quickly enough, and he waited for the final one: the one who always came.. He arrived. He knelt down in front of him and took Spike's face in his hands. He was gentle. He turned the ravaged features to the low light and shook his head. 'Oh, Will, Childe, what has happened to you?'

Spike looked into the deep, brown eyes. 'I went to China, but you didn't come with me.'

'I couldn't. But I'm here now.'

'Yes, but you don't have a pass. You should go.'

'I don't need a pass, Will, to be with you.'

'I wanted my hair to grow back, but it won't. It's stopped. Like me.'

'Shhh. Don't worry about things like that now. I'm here to take you home.'

'That's a long time ago. Can we go back that far?'

'Not back, my little poet, never back.'

'Don't call me that. I can't find any rhymes down here, even for Buffy who is poetry in my heart.'

'Shall I help you out?'

'Yes, please, help me out. I'm lost, and I can't give myself a pass. Not allowed to, you see. I sold mine to the devil, and he won't give it back. So, please, can you help me? One little rhyme, and it will all make sense.'

'Just one? All right then. but it's a difficult word to rhyme with, isn't it: vampire..'

Spike covered his ears to the maniacal giggling and hunched low on his heels. That was the closest he'd ever been to believing that he was real. Brief respite, and they would begin again: a progression of evil from the beginning to the end, which might have been the beginning, he couldn't tell.

The next time, Buffy stayed for some time, but she did not speak at first. He twisted his head and watched her watching him. 'I got all spilt on.'

'Spike, don't.'

'It was black, see, and wouldn't wash off.'

'Don't. Stop it. I can't stand it any more.'

'You can't stand it? You can't stand it?' He flung himself up, utterly heedless that he was naked. She turned her face. 'How do you think I stand it? It's so hot. I took off my coat; I thought I would be comfortable, but I'm not!'

'Shut up. Shut up, Spike. You are.. you need to calm down.'

'Yes, that's right. You are right. I'll be calm. How's this? Am I calm?'

'I have to go now. But I've sent.. I have to go.'

He followed her. 'How were you back there? I saw you in that place, which was so long ago.'

'Spike! Stop with the crazy, please.'

'It was why I wanted you, see, cus you'd been there when he was. But he never was there really. He didn't exist. In my heart he did. He was all real in there. But I gave it to the devil. Do you get it, Buffy.? Do you get it.? I wanted to give it to you, but I was all wrong. I'm all wrong..'

She fled on the sound of this insanity that she could not hit, break, or fight.

*********************

'Angel. Hang up on me, and I will personally come there and fetch you.'

'Buffy. Stop it. I've told you..'

'I'm going to stake him. Angel? Don't do silence on me! ANGEL!'

'What do you mean?'

'He is like a dog that needs a mercy killing, Angel. Everyone thinks it. No one else will do it.'

'That is not. acceptable..'

'What! What! Don't you do the crazy with me, too.'

*******************

Drusilla stayed with him most of the day, which was nice. It was like old times: one of them insane and the other one pretending not to notice. He allowed her to bring him off, his seed falling uselessly to the ground where it belonged. No one wanted it. No one wanted him.

Buffy came as usual. This time he cowered under his blanket so she would not see that he had spilt without her. He could smell his cum and feared she would, too; so he sat on it and spread the corners of his blanket neatly over the damp stain.

'Spike. Come out.'

'I'm not allowed to tonight. I have to attend Mother. She needs me.'

'No. I'm not doing with the crazy tonight. I need to.. I have to.. I've come to.. Damn, I can't do this.'

He listened to her leave with sadness. He'd hoped she would stay and play, too: one-handed Quadrille was so difficult. But he never had to wait long for him to arrive and, right on cue, he did.

This time, he circled him as he sat under his blanket. 'What are you doing?'

'Hiding from you.'

'Why?'

'You didn't like the music I chose for you, even though it used to be your favourite.'

'Are you enjoying eternity, Will?'

'No. I want to go home.'

'Well, that's a good start.' Spike tensed slightly under his blanket. Liam was clever. He'd just switched to a new voice: no longer lilting and smelling of peat.

'To that little, fussy room?' A switch back. that confused Spike slightly: the peat again.

He risked a reply. 'I didn't get lost there. It was just the right size for me.'

'I know what being lost is like, Spike.' / 'That's because you were always small, Will.'

Spike was beginning to enjoy his insanity. It exceeded even his own expectations. 'Can you see each other? That would be funny.'

'What do you mean, Spike? Come out from under there.' / 'Don't try to play your insanity with me, Will; I made you like this, you are my creation.'

'I'm not much to be proud of Liam, for all your efforts.'

'Spike, please, I've come to get you out of here, but you have to take the first step. Come out from under there.'

Spike waited for the other voice, but it did not come. He risked peeping out and studied his visitor carefully. 'You should bathe.'

'What? Why? Spike, shut up, and get up.'

'All dirty, see? It gives you away. You think you aren't him, but you are.'

'Okay.. Spike. Turn around.'

'Why? Are you going to lick me again? Because I said no then, I think. Wish I'd said no to it all really, but I wanted not to be lonely. Waste of bloody time, wasn't it? All of it. All such a waste and her, most of all. All wasted.. You can't see me now under here. I came to find you, rushing so fast, wanting you so much, but you weren't there. Had no spark, see? No bang in the sky, and I wanted that, cus it was so pretty on the heath that night. But they did bad things to him afterwards. I always felt so sorry for 'im, and us stuffing trousers and burning them when they did such bad things to him. Pokers. Hot. What I wanted from you, I think. In my dreams that's what you gave me. No spark now.'

'Spike, I'm going to take you out of this place now. You have to come with me.'

'Oh, yes, you said come with me, and I did. Right into the cave where that bloody spider went up and down, and what did he get? Nothing. I've got a cold, Liam. Yours. I think I caught your cold. Mother said I should be careful. Said I shouldn't go out at night. But I did. For you. To have you, but all I got was THIS BLOODY COLD and look at you! I can see it in your eyes. He's there in you, too.'

'Spike. Listen carefully to me. You have to try and listen to my voice. You remember my voice, don't you?'

'Say something in your real voice, and I'll try to remember.'

'Jeez. Now. You have to come with me now. Whatever you are going through is being made worse here. I can feel it, too. Trust me, and come with me. What are you doing?'

Spike rose from his blanket, holding his flaccid penis. 'He wants me to come with him. For the first time, and now I can. I got it hard for him, but I think it was too hot. He was so cold.'

A hand was laid gently on Spike's arm, but Spike snatched it away.

'No! You can't have the boy now. He's all ruined. The boy was nice, and then he wasn't, and you didn't want either. So not now. I'll burn you. Too hot still. All burning.'

'SHUT UP! Fuck, I wish I'd let her stake you now. Turn around. Yes! I'm going to lick you. Turn AROUND!'

Spike turned.

Angel hit him over the back of the head and caught the unconscious form before his head could touch the floor.

*********************

Spike woke in the dark. He sensed he was underground. Nothing appeared to be different but everything was. He stood up. He was dressed in clothes that did not fit him. A blanket, a mattress, some blood bags and a few books were scattered around on the floor. It seemed very peaceful, very safe. He vomited over the books, stripped and went to huddle in the corner. He desperately wanted to cross the space to fetch the blanket, but feared the gaping maw that was between him and that small shred of sanity.

He heard the door opening and turned his face to the wall. 'I'm not here.'

'Yes, you are.'

'Then you're not here, and that's even better.'

'Who do you think I am?'

'Should I have to think? Have you been many people?'

'You know that I have, and you've known every one.'

'But I haven't, have I?'

'Uh huh. Not so mad then, Spike. No, you never knew Liam, although I did a good impression of him for you.'

'No idea who you are now. Thought you were Buffy.'

'Very funny.'

'No one is laughing.'

'I don't laugh much. Now get out of that corner and help clear up this mess.'

'Eat it.'

'Uh huh, again. And what?'

'You eat your messes, Liam.'

'Try calling me Angel, Spike, it might help restore your dubious sanity.'

'Giving it back to me might help more.'

'You think I took it from you?'

'End and beginning.'

'Hmm. You vomited on my only copy of Catch 22.'

'Madness for the mad? I always enjoyed your sense of humour, Angel.'

'Liking the Angel. Okay. Let's get you out of here.'

'No.'

'Does your head still hurt?'

'Yes.'

'So, I repeat. Let's get you out of here. without resorting to violence.'

'You taught me about violence.'

'You were a quick study.'

'Not really.'

'Get dressed, Spike. Other people live here with me now, and I wouldn't inflict your naked body on any of them.'

'Is this London?'

'Is that likely?'

'Is it likely that I am a demon with a soul, talking to another demon with a soul?'

'Good point. All right then, yes, it's London. Does that help? Now, get up, get dressed and come up to the bathroom with me. We wash in London these days.'

'You can never get clean, Angel. You pollute what you touch.'

'Just dress, Spike.'

Angel led him through the Hyperion's kitchens and up the back stairs to the lobby. Spike cowered at the brightness and size of the place. Angel sucked his breath in at the changes he could see now Spike was up and walking around. 'You look like shit.'

'Are you going to fuck me then? You wouldn't have to choose. Have it all: shit and me.'

Angel narrowed his eyes at Spike's disingenuous expression. 'You remember that?'

'I don't know who I am, so I can't remember anything.'

'Sure. Believing this, Spike. Come into the kitchen and feed. It's the first stage of recovery.'

Spike's face suddenly brightened. 'This is AA, ain't it? I knew! I knew! Can I confess?'

Grabbing his arm, Angel let him down the stairs and into the small kitchen. He blessed the others' absence as he sat Spike down in a chair. He warmed two mugs of blood, eyeing the blond vampire warily. 'Can you tell me what it feels like, Spike?'

'Hard mostly, but I don't spill.'

'Hmm. I'm debating continuing this.. But I'm a masochist. course I will. Your soul, Spike. What does your soul feel like?'

'Like silk.'

'Silk is good.'

'Not around your throat it ain't.'

'No. True.

'Not stuffed in your mouth it ain't.'

'Again, no. Feels good on your nuts though.'

'Is that where your soul is, Angel?'

'Is yours in your mouth or your throat?'

'I'm insane, Angel; it can be where I like.'

'Sure. I've been insane for eighty years. Mine's in my nuts if I want it to be.'

'Huh.' Spike tipped his head on one side and watched Angel heat the blood. 'I won't take that.'

'I'm not giving it to you. I'm going to tip your head back and pour it down your throat.'

'Oh. Why?'

'Because you can't recover unless you feed well.'

'That wasn't what I meant.'

'I know, Spike, but fortunately, you are insane, so I don't have to answer all your questions.'

Spike shut up at that, Angel's madness confusing him too much to keep his straight in his head. He took the blood and drank it, despite his earlier refusal. Angel gave him another and watched that go down, too.

'Human?'

'Yes.'

''S good then. Topping up the soul with others' life blood.'

'It was just blood, Spike; don't try to see too much in it.'

'Too much? In blood? Angel, it is all blood. It's what we are!'

'Blood and soul now.'

'I-I don't know. Is it like a spark?'

'Yours might be. Mine's just a bitch most of the time.'

'Oh.'

'Come on; let's get you clean. You aren't much fun to play with at the moment.' He froze, his ironic, detached manner slipping slightly at the unfortunate associations that rose at this. He looked sideward at Spike but didn't see much change in the confused expression. He gave a small blink of relief and took Spike's arm. 'I'm thinking of leaving the hair - washing it, but leaving it - I kind of like it. What do you think, Spike?'

Spike turned to him as they slowly mounted the stairs. 'I think I would have been fun to play with, but you tidied me away before you'd even unwrapped me.'

Angel gritted his teeth and took a firmer hold on the arm of this troubling childe.

*****************

Washing Spike proved more difficult than Angel had anticipated. Spike refused to do anything for himself, and Angel was in no mood to pander to his theatrical madness. He really didn't want to have to strip him. He really didn't want to hold him, struggling under the water. He definitely didn't want to ruin his own hair, trying to wash Spike's, but he did all this. Finally, he got Spike relatively clean, wrapped in a towel and tucked in his bed.

'I'm going home soon.'

'Good. Do you have the bus fare?'

'The number nine used to stop outside our place and take me to Camden market.'

'Uh huh. Fascinating, Spike.'

'I like that show.'

'Totally not wanting to go here, Spike, but it kind of begs to be done: what the fuck are you talking about?' Spike was saved a thoughtful reply for the telephone rang. Angel sat on the edge of the bed and leant warily over Spike to reach it.

'Yes.'

'Angel.'

There was such a long pause that even Spike looked up with an almost sane curiosity. 'Wesley.'

'I heard what's happened.'

'Your associates keep their ears to the ground.'

'Willow telephoned me, actually, but I expect Wolfram and Hart know too. Shall I ask, next time I see an ear?'

'Don't do this, Wesley. You haven't earned the right to piss me off.'

'I did.'

'Shut up. No, not you, Wesley. Well, yes, why not? You shut up, too.'

'He's there with you?'

'Yes, he is. Why are you calling?'

'Because I want to find you.'

'Shut up, Spike! You're bad enough when you hear a whole conversation.'

'I need to see you, about Spike.'

'No.'

'You said that before. But not so nicely.'

'Shu.. No, not you, Wesley. And no, again!'

'Always no.'

'Hang on.' Angel clamped his hand over Spike's mouth, ignoring the furious look. 'What do you want? And make it quick. He'll start biting in a minute.'

'I think Spike regaining his soul is somehow connected to you, Angel. I need to see you to show you some of the research I've found.'

'I don't like the places you've been looking in recently, Wesley.'

'Don't be a prude as well as a hypocrite, Angel; it doesn't suit you.'

'Where?'

'Somewhere busy.'

'No, here.'

'You jest.'

'You think?'

'Why?'

Angel hesitated. 'I can't leave Spike.' He looked at the blond vampire with a furrowed brow for a moment. 'Stop that.'

'I'm not doing anything, Angel.'

'Not you. Look, come here, or I'll be fucking insane soon.'

'Me coming there relieves your imminent insanity? Interesting theory, Angel.'

'Fuck off and come here tomorrow. And Gunn and Fred will both be here, by the way.'

'Shall I bring some of my friends, too?'

'You don't have any.' He put the phone down and peeled what remained of his hand from Spike's teeth. 'That will be the last time you hurt me, Spike.'

'Is it only you who is allowed to go on hurting people?'

'I don't. I help people.'

'Not him.'

'Don't get into this, Spike. Remember you are insane and stick to that.'

Spike pursed his lips and began to get out of bed. 'Time to go home. Andy and Teddy are going to bed.'

'Andy and fucking Teddy, whoever they are, are staying here with you. You can snuggle up together.' He picked up a glass of liquid that had stood unnoticed by Spike on the bedside table, took hold of the smaller man, stretched his neck back and effectively poured the contents down his throat without the smallest spill.

Spike opened his eyes wide at the treatment, put one finger to his mouth, as if going to force himself to vomit the drug, but Angel just lay on him. It didn't take long. Strong horse tranquillizer. Spike stopped writhing and crying to be free after a few minutes. Finally, Angel sat up and ran his hand through still wet hair. When he took it away, it was shaking. He clenched his fist on this single indication of his pain and confusion and got up to think about the coming confrontation with his beloved enemy.

*****
Part 6:

Spike woke slowly, raging thirst and confusion only confirming he was still in London in his real life and that this was merely another nightmare.

The latest creature to appear had been so real that he had even managed to change the scenery, but then this one ate actors, so that seemed par for the course to Spike. He wondered what new torments he would think up for him and was not surprised when the slow progression of evil began again.

He pulled the sheet over his face as a large black man approached the bed. 'We don't have any black people yet. Go away.'

''K. great start. This ain't England, Bro, or wherever you think you are, and I ain't gonna go away. I bring blood, and I really hate pissing Angel off by spilling anything on his bed. and did I just say that? Out. Drink.'

'Are you an angel?'

Gunn bit back a laugh. 'Not last time I looked, but I can sing mighty fine gospel when I've a mind to. Now, you gonna have this?'

Spike peered out. 'I'm chained.'

'Sure are. The boss did it while you were asleep.'

Spike frowned. 'You should have woken me. I really like his stuff - not since he split from E-street though.'

'Okay, I'm feeling dizzy now, so, just drink?'

'Yes. I will, cus I'm in denial. No, recovery. No, maybe denial.'

'Jesus!'

'He has nice eyes: blue, like mine.'

Gunn watched Spike drink then backed toward the door, shaking his head.

The next in the progression of malevolence was an interesting choice. Spike watched her watching him for a while, waiting for her to speak first.

'Nice hair.'

'Nice hair.'

'Mine costs; yours looks free.'

'It cost me enough.'

Cordelia sat on the edge of the bed. 'Long time no see.'

Spike frowned. 'I know. I didn't see until it was too late, and I'd bought the ticket then. Didn't like the trip, though, and now I want to go home.'

'Sunnydale?'

'I'm not that mad.'

'Look, pal, you be as mad as you want here. Sanity is only a word at the Hyperion.'

'So is sanctuary, but it's harder to rhyme.'

'Spike? Welcome to the madhouse. See you downstairs for lunch?'

'Are you going to eat me?'

'I've stopped doing that to men, remember?'

'Too chewy?'

'Found one that wanted more than just my mouth.'

'Ah. He wanted mine once.'

'I'm gonna put that comment down to insanity, Spike, and go.'

'Okay.'

'Sleep maybe? Sleep is always of the good, as a mutual friend of ours used to say.'

'Okay. Goodbye.'

Spike watched the next visitation with even more interest. She really looked evil: filled with that intense, hot innocence that could only be a deceit.

'Hi ya.'

'Hello.'

'I'm Fred.'

'I'm Julia.'

'Oh. He said you weren't really mad.'

'I'm not; I'm quite furious.'

'Oh. Good. Cus I can understand that. And madness, too, I guess. Been there, done that..'

'Are you still there?'

'Oh, no, all sane now.'

'How do you know?'

'How do I know I'm sane? I don't know. I just think I am.'

'That's not much of a recommendation. Do you think insanity recognises itself?'

'You know you're mad.'

'I know I'm dead. Wouldn't that make you mad?'

'Angel is just the same as you, and he's not mad.'

'You've not known him long then?'

'I think you're probably just confused. I was so confused when they brought me back.'

'From the dead?'

'Well, no, but I was dead to everyone here, so I guess, yeah, kinda.'

'Am I alive somewhere then?'

'Maybe.'

'I think you'd better go, cus you're confusing me.'

'Oh. God. I'm sorry! Only. I just wanted to tell you. madness passes.'

'You loved Angel, too?'

'Err. well, I wouldn't put it like that. yes.'

'So you know that's not true. You know it never passes.'

'Oh. Love? No, I think love is eternal.'

'Then Angel must be love.'

'You're confusing me.'

'I'm confusing everyone.'

'Except Angel.'

'Ahh, but he is my madness.'

'I hear the telephone. Clients. sorry.'

The last one was absolutely the best. Spike pulled the sheet to his nose and watched the exotic green thing approach.

'Put that down, hon. I haven't come to trade madness with you. Sane as a sane thing here, so you'd win. I just came to say hi. So, hi, I'm Lorne, but everyone calls me the host. Nothing more. Oh. and. hurt Angel? You'll know what madness really is. Now, I've got buckets of ironing to do; so, toddle pip - as you English say.'

Spike repeated the toddle pip quietly to himself for a while. It was the most insane thing he'd heard all morning, and it struck his fancy. When Angel returned, Spike waited to see which manifestation of the evil it was and decided it was the confusing one that had brought him to this lunatic asylum. Not Liam, not Angelus, not Angel: someone he had never met before.

'Do you all talk to each other in there?'

'It's lunchtime, Spike. I want you to feed with me downstairs. I have some clothes for you here. Just jeans and a T-shirt. They should fit.'

He undid Spike's restraints, wary to get too close to the penetratingly astute madness.

'Was staking her hard?'

Not at all phased by Spike's random questions, Angel said sadly, 'What do you think, Spike? She was my sire.'

'Did I find it hard to kill you then?'

'You didn't kill me. You were hit by a van, remember?'

'Did I know what you were all that time? When I had the rhyme? Did I really know?'

Angel paused with the key in his hand. 'I don't know, Spike. Did you? I think toward the end you did.'

'So do I.'

'Here, dress.' Spike sat useless on the edge of the bed; Angel grimaced and pulled him to his feet. He put one arm into a sleeve, then the other and bent his head to fasten buttons.

'I did wake up cross. I think I've been cross ever since.'

'Yes. I know, Will.'

'I thought there would be love, see?'

'How could there be. I was a demon.'

'Not then. When I got this.' He ran an idle finger over the scars on his chest.

'Ah. Kind of hopeful then Spike, cus no one else who has a soul has the love they want.'

'There is a lot of love in this place; the walls are purple with it.'

'That's probably just the damp.' Angel bent to get Spike to step into his jeans. Nearly one hundred years of practicing self-control made him able to do it relatively calmly. He sensed Spike's head lower, watching him.

'Why did you bring me here?'

'I didn't do it for you. She was going to stake you. I couldn't have her live with that. I did it for her.'

'So did I. Didn't get me nowhere 'cept this madhouse.'

Angel rose to his feet, adjusting Spike here and there. 'The madhouse is now serving lunch. Let's go.'

Whether Angel had cleared the place a little for his first proper appearance, Spike wasn't sure, but only Cordelia was there, working at her desk. She glanced up as they came down. 'Better.'

Spike stopped. 'Better ain't gonna change the price of fish, is it?'

'Don't, Cordy, don't go there with him. Spike? If you can't say something profound and relevant, don't say anything at all. Okay?'

'Okay. How's about you're a fucking cunt of an arsehole, Angel. That profound enough for you? It's relevant.'

Angel propelled Spike into the kitchen then slammed him up against the wall. 'You may be mad, Spike, you may not: I haven't made up my mind on that one yet. Either way, you're in my house, and those are my friends. Treat them with respect.'

'Did I get invited? You said invites were important.'

'Your soul got you one - this one time. Don't fuck it up.'

'I think its already fucked up, Angel. It was fucked up when it got taken from me. Has it been somewhere, healing?'

Angel backed away a little, staring at the wide, blue eyes, Darla's throwaway comment coming back to him with eerie clarity. He frowned. 'Full of me..'

'No, you full of me.'

'What?'

'You ate me.'

Sensing he was not going to solve his own insanities through Spike, Angel turned from the imminent confrontation and began to heat up some blood.

'I don't want to be restrained.'

'You have to be. I can't afford for you to leave.'

'Why? Did I cost a lot? Am I valuable?'

Angel didn't make the caustic, ironic reply to this remark that he had made to most of Spike's others. Instead, he sat down with the mugs of blood and cupped Spike's hands around one of them. 'You have a soul again, Spike. That makes you precious, yes.'

'And I could get more lost than I already am?'

'You're not lost. I've got you.'

'You are a maze I can't get out of; that's not safety.'

'Mazes can be quiet and peaceful, Spike, if you don't struggle to free yourself.'

'That's death.'

'We're both dead already. Look, Spike, you are here. I am here. I'm not going anywhere; I'm just here, trying to make sense of my unlife. Now you are here, and I'll try to make sense of yours for you, too. But whatever happens, you have a soul now, and I count you as valuable as I count myself.'

'You value all souls?'

'Yes. I do.'

'Why is Wesley outcast then?'

********************

Angel sat at his desk, his chin propped on tented hands, thinking about Spike and thinking about Wesley. Still, after all this time, he half expected Wesley to come through the door and interrupt his musing with light banter or friendly chat. It was almost painful that he didn't.. that he would never let Wesley do that again. Thinking about Spike was almost more painful, but it was less painful than having to listen to him. He was exhausting. Everyone was finding it so. endless questions that had no answers. Angel had meant what he'd said: he wasn't sure whether Spike was truly mad or whether he was just too sane. He guessed it came to one and the same thing in the end.

Angel glanced at the clock and tensed slightly, waiting for him.

Exactly on time, he heard the front door open and close. He heard familiar footsteps. The face was not so familiar, and he let his chair fall slowly to the ground when Wesley came into the office. No banter now - no friendly chat.

'Hello, Angel.'

'You look like you've been in hell, Wesley. I'm glad.'

'It was a very pleasant hell then, Angel. You never told me the sex there was so good.'

Angel ignored this and rose. 'Let's get this done with. I don't want you here any longer than you have to be.'

'Where are the others? I suppose my ostracism doesn't extend to them - unless you impose it on them. I don't suppose they see staking a vicious, evil demon quite as you do.'

Angel went menacingly toward Wesley, fully expecting him to back away. He always backed away. This time, Wesley merely chuckled and turned his back to fetch a small holdall he had left by the door. Angel could not help being a little impressed at this and perched on the edge of the desk watching Wesley's back. 'I gave them all the night off, after all.'

'Good. Here. I want you see what I've found about Spike and his soul. I have access to some pretty rare collections, as you can imagine.' He saw Angel's expression. 'Don't worry, Angel; I wiped them before bringing them into this pure place.'

'Don't push me, Wesley.'

'Don't make yourself such a target then. Remember what you are, where you came from, what you have done in your long life and lighten up a little, hey?'

Angel jerked his head back. Ordinarily, he would have reacted a little more forcibly to this, but for some strange reason, what he was, where he had been and the things he had done had recently been playing on his mind even more than usual. He mutely held out his hand, and Wesley spread the books open on the table.

'You seem to have a key role in the coming confrontation between good and evil.'

'So I've heard.'

'Quite what role, no one knows. You may stay souled and have a role for the good or..'

'And.? Your point?'

'My point, Angel, is choices. Your choices to be more precise. There is reference here, and here, to a great choice. A weighing in the balance..'

'Things to make me good. things to make me evil..'

'Things to hold you to your path, things that might set you from it, yes.'

'And you think Spike is one of these things? Holding me to it? Or distracting me from it?'

Wesley looked up with a sad look on his face. 'I have no idea, Angel. But if you want my guess.?'

Angel pouted; years of friendship warred with intense hatred, clouding his purpose. 'Yes. I do.'

Wesley smiled fractionally, 'Then I'd say the soul was to make him more precious to you, to keep you with us.'

'Bloody silly idea that was then. Precious ain't so precious, Watcher, despite what the fucker might tell you.'

'Spike! I gave you enough drug to knock out six vampires!'

'I was sick. Blood too rich.'

'Well, as you're here, you may as well come in. This is Wesley..'

Spike took a step into the room. He had his eyes fastened on Angel. He turned at the words to look at the man, and then he froze. They both saw him turn pale beyond the definition of paleness; his face creased up in panic, and then he turned and bolted out of the door and up the stairs.

Angel frowned and turned back to the books. 'Angel! Aren't you going to do something? Go after him?'

'He's pretending, Wesley.'

'Jesus, Angel, are you stupid as well as begrudging?' Wesley went angrily out of the room and followed Spike up the stairs. It wasn't hard to find him; he was in one of the empty bedrooms banging his head against a wall. Wesley went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Spi.?'

'You're real? You're real! I smell your reality. Are you real?'

Wesley laughed, a dark, sad laugh. 'I've been questioning that myself lately, but yes, I think I am.'

Spike's legs gave way, and he sank to the floor with his back to the wall. Wesley sat alongside him in the gloom, and they did not speak for many minutes. Finally, Spike said sadly, 'Shall I row you to Skye?'

Wesley pursed his lips, thinking about this for a long time. Eventually, he said, 'My exile is no less painful than his, so yes, if you can. I'd like that very much.'

Spike gave a small, pleased smile and began to study his fingernails.

'You play The Fool well, Spike.. This perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world..'

Spike looked at Wesley and said seriously, 'I thought this was all in my head, see? Thought they all were - the endless progression slinking past me. But then there you were, and you're real. It kinda puts a whole new perspective on it all.'

Wesley frowned. 'But Angel is real. He's noticeably real. Could you not see that?'

Suddenly, much to Wesley's distress, Spike began to cry. He struggled to his feet and began to pace around the room, wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve every so often. 'See. if this is real, then why aren't I forgiven? I did this to be forgiven, so she would forgive. So I could be a man for her. But I'm not forgiven. It's all still here, inside me: the evil, and there's no forgiveness, so I thought this can't be real. This must be an illusion and what I was before must be real. And then that got so easy to think I went back further to the time when all was real. Before him. Do you see?'

'I don't know. I think so. Did you want forgiveness, Spike, or to forgive?'

'What? What?' He came over in front of Wesley and knelt close to him, peering intently into his face. 'You would criticise me for that? Do you think I don't have enough to forgive?'

Wesley looked down sadly. 'I would imagine, knowing Angel, that you do.'

Spike flung away again, and the vitriol in his voice actually frightened the human. 'The fucker, the fucker. Shit.. I'm shit.. He'd rather stick it in shit.. All my love, lying like a turd on the pavement. That's what I was to him. After all I thought we would be.' He crumpled and put his forehead to the floor, the bitter tone becoming strained. 'He took me back to the little girl. It was my welcome to the rhyme. Now I rhymed, I had to go back, 'e said. She wasn't drugged this time, and he laughed and forced me to laugh, but I wasn't - not really. Do you see? How can I forgive that? He gave me to Drusilla: told 'er to put me on a lead. I loved him! I loved him.. ' He lifted his head and turned tear-streaked eyes to Wesley. 'What I did to Buffy. it was what he did to me in a way, an' it was cus I couldn't forgive.. So much anger all the time. I woke up so cross that I never really stopped. And she was there, and I got cross with 'er. Bad person, see? All twisted up inside; all black and flowing like that bloody coat of mine. Don't have it now. Thought I could get the blackness out of me just as easily. Thought this FUCKING soul would wash it out of me. Make me less cross, so I could forgive him. But it hasn't, it hasn't.. So, yeah, I play the fool, but it's better than doing what I want to do, cus if you can't forgive, what do you do? What do you do? Can you tell me that? What will I do if I can't forgive?'

Wesley left as the vampire, once more, began to bang his head on the floor.

Spike half heard him go, half heard him come back, and then felt strong arms forcing him onto his back on the floor. He saw the drugged water; he struggled; his chip fired off, and it was relatively easy for Wesley to do, more successfully, what Angel had intended that night. He did it for different reasons though: unable to stop his own pain, this small, but significant gesture, eased it somewhat. He wished someone could make him sleep as peacefully as the sad figure in his arms.

Wesley looked down at Spike and silently prayed that one day, the vampire might just find a small rowboat and take him to Skye.

He returned Spike to Angel's bed and fastened the manacles around his wrist. He went back to the office and found Angel still engrossed in the books. 'Did you find him?'

'Yes.'

'Was he faking?'

'Yes.'

'Told you.'

'Angel.?'

'Hmm.?'

'You know I hate you now, don't you?'

'Yep.'

'You know I have no interest in your safety now.'

'Sure do.'

'Good, so you will believe me then, I hope, when I say - don't turn your back too often on Spike, will you?'

Angel looked up at last. He stared at Wesley thoughtfully. 'I can handle Spike.'

Wesley smiled, a small, sad smile. 'That's exactly what I mean, Angel. I think you've handled him once too often. Just be careful, please? Keep the books. Wolfram and Hart don't issue overdue fines. Not ones you can pay, anyway.'

Angel watched his retreating back with a pang of regret so deep it almost made him call out to stop the man leaving. Almost. Instead, he shrugged and returned to the books.

*********************

Later that evening, Angel released Spike. He left him in semi-sleep on the bed and went down to heat blood for them both. He was amazed when Spike came into the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed, if looking slightly shaky.

'Hey.'

Angel smiled. 'Hey you. Is it you?'

Spike gave a weak, slightly wobbly smile back. 'Nah, I just decided I was as unreal as you, so it kinda all balanced out.'

'Huh. Well, do you want some unreal blood or some very real whisky?'

'Both?'

'Okay then. Major progress.'

Angel leant on the counter, watching Spike as the blood heated behind him. He looked. delicate, as if he would blow away on the first strong wind. 'So, what next, Spike? What do you want to do?'

Spike pouted and drew patterns on the table for a moment then he looked up at Angel. 'I want to survive.'

'That's good.'

'I need. help.'

'From me?'

Spike gritted his teeth. 'I chose from a cast of one. Yeah. From you.'

'Okay then. You'll stay here?'

'If I'm welcome.'

'I wouldn't go as far as that..'

Spike looked up sharply but saw that Angel was smiling. He huffed. 'Fucker.'

'The most important things you need to do are sleep and feed - both, constantly. You will literally go mad if you do not feed well. I have a case tonight. But I'll come up and see you when I get back.'

'Yes. All right. Where am I going to sleep?'

'Choose any room you like. We'll sort it out tomorrow.'

'Okay.'

'You're okay?'

'Guess.'

Angel nodded and left to meet Gunn, slightly bemused by this sudden turn around.

Spike waited until he heard the front door close then he put his head to the table and began once more his systematic, rhythmic banging.

*****