*****

Spike opened his eyes slowly.

"Angel!"

...

"Go away," Spike muttered to the voices in his head. "You don't belong here."

The wild-eyed blonde paced through his basement home, scratching at his chest. "Have to get it out. Angel, help me get it out."

< Angel. Please gods, Angel, where are you? Where are you? My love, my life, my Sire, my soul when neither of us had one. >

"Spike?"

< Buffy. >

...

"Angel? She was here. I'm sorry, I'm so damned sorry. I never meant to hurt her; I know she was yours. I wanted to be yours, I still want to be yours. Only yours. It's all I ever wanted, Angel," Spike keened, sinking onto the floor. "Just for you to love me. What can I do? What do you want? I'll change; I always change for you. Only for you."

Spike reached for the carton of lukewarm blood on a nearby table. Grimacing, he took a small sip. It came right back up, spattering a shotgun-spray of tiny droplets on the wall. The vampire set it back down, knowing he'd never be able to finish it. He leaned back against the table, searching for the strength to stand.

"You don't look so hot."

Spike's eyes flew open. "Angel?"

Angel crouched down next to him. "You're a sight for sore eyes, William."

"It hurts, Angel," Spike whined. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? About the pain?" Angel laughed harshly. "Why? I liked it; I always have. Of course, I liked making you hurt more. You were so precious, always begging for attention like some kind of puppy."

"I loved you," Spike whispered. "I just wanted--" < Why are you doing this, Angel? We loved, truly loved. Before, that is. Before the soul, before Darla got jealous. You told me you loved me. You *told me.* >

"You *loved* me?" Angel cackled. "Oh, that's rich. You didn't love me; you loved attention, you loved Dru and you loved violence. Coming back to bite you on the ass, isn't it?"

Spike struggled to stand up. He got about halfway up when Angel easily pushed him down. "Sire..." < I loved you from the moment I woke up on my death day. You were my universe; you still are. Always. >

"Stop calling me that," Angel ordered. "I'm not your Sire; I would never create such a worthless piece of shit. You couldn't even keep Dru happy. That's pathetic; all she ever needed was someone to torture her every few days."

Spike closed his eyes and tried to shut out the sound of Angel's voice. This had to be coming from the *thing* inside him. This wasn't Angel. It couldn't be. Angel didn't hate him. < Sire, sire, sire... This is not my Sire. This is not Angel. Not Angelus. Not Liam. This is not my lover. >

"Of course I hate you. I've always hated you. As a fledgling you were weak; then you got sloppy and stupid. Now, now you're even less, not even a man. Just a dog, waiting to be kicked. And you are *not* my lover. You haven't been for over a century."

When Spike dared to look again, Angel was gone.

...

When Spike finally managed to get himself off the cross, Buffy was gone. It was for the best; he couldn't keep the act up anymore. The voices were inside him all the time, describing Buffy's death in excruciating detail. He didn't want Buffy dead; like Dru she was one of his loves. Although there was nothing left in Buffy for him, he cherished her; she was a link-however tenuous-to Angel.

Spike was almost home when it started again.

"Poor Spikey," Dru cooed. "All sad and alone. Not even the nasty Slayer wants you. And you've got a soul, just like Daddy. Oh, poor Spikey."

Spike ignored her. He knew it wasn't her.

"Worthless offal," Darla hissed. "Why did he turn you? Yeah, you've got a pretty face, but so do half the others in London. And most of them would at least be able to kill off a Slayer. You *fucked* her and let her go!"

Spike said nothing. The door to Spike's room slapped Darla in the face. She turned into Angel as she slid through the door.

"What are you going to do with this soul of yours, Spike? Do you think you'll join me? Work for The Powers That Be?" Angel laughed coarsely. "Right. Like The Powers want a neutered, weak vampire working for them. You can't keep yourself together; you're still crying over things that never were. You might as well stake yourself, Spike. You're not worth my time."

Spike tried not to notice his tears. < My Sire loved me, at least he used to. He loved me, saved time and a gentle hand for me. He wanted me, took me in love. Before his soul... He was mine back then. Before the Slayer. Before Dru got hurt. We were one. >

...

"Do you remember that time you brought me the street whore? The one you'd carved all over with my name?" Angel sneered, kicking at Spike's shins. "Christ, she tasted worse than the Thames itself. And you thought I'd like such a cheap present."

< You loved the blood. The violence. You loved it. You told me it was perfect. We fucked in her blood, it covered us both. We fell asleep like that, you inside me. >

"But you were easy; you never turned me down. Not even once. Although it did get a bit tedious after a while. You never really caught on; Darla got a good laugh out of it. Said you were my own little fuck toy. Hells, half the time I didn't want you; I just fucked you to shut you up and get you out of my hair."

< Angelus loved me. >

"Angelus couldn't love," Angel said cheerfully. "He lusted, and not after you. Don't you get it, Spike? You were convenient. And now you're not even that. I wouldn't touch you to save my own soul. You're nothing; never have been, never will be."

< I'm sorry, Sire. I'm so sorry. I never meant to disappoint you. Never wanted to hurt you. Only wanted to please you. You were my life. You are my life, my everything. Please, Sire. >

"Oh, shut up! I'm tired of your incessant begging. Don't you ever stop and *think*? If I wanted you, I'd take you. It's not that far, you know. You aren't worth it." Angel disappeared after that, leaving a quivering, crying Spike on the floor.

"Sire," Spike cried out brokenly. "Why? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you so loathe your childe?"

...

"Spike?"

Spike turned around warily. It was Buffy, so he relaxed a bit. "Yeah?"

"We need your help."

"Ok," He murmured.

Buffy smiled. "Great!" Her face morphed into Angel's. "Get out. Get the hell out of here, away from this town and these people."

Spike screamed, sinking onto the floor. < Angel! Why are you doing this? Why? Please, please don't do this to me, Angel. >

Angel rolled his eyes. "Get up, Spike. I should've staked you a hundred years ago. Actually, I should do it now. Got a stake?"

Spike slowly shook his head.

"Oh, that's right. You aren't good for anything." Angel reached down and dragged Spike up, forcing him to stand. "You say you love me. Prove it."

Spike opened hopeful eyes.

"Leave. Go away. Make me happy; remove your presence. Get in that pathetic wreck you drive and hit the road. And don't come back. If I ever see you again, I'll stake you." Angel's voice left no room for doubt as he faded from sight.

Tears streamed from those blue-infinity eyes. "Sire."

~fin~