*****

1900: China during the Boxer rebellion. Spike's POV:

Mmm... Nice and warm. Drusilla curls her body nearer and smuggles into my chest. Sex after death and mayhem nicely finishes of a good night. I do so love wars and rebellions; it gives us so much freedom. Nobody questions our killings or our movements. People watch us in the streets as we snap necks and feed. They don't see what we really are. They think we are on their side killing the enemy, or such nonsense. Angelus was right; humans are nothing but sheep.

But something doesn't enable me to sleep this night. My body aches from taking Drusilla over and over, yet I cannot sleep. Thoughts lie heavy on my mind, but I can't seem to work out what it is that bothers me. It's like the other night. The most incredible night of my life. I, Spike, formally known as William the Bloody, killed my first Slayer - all alone, too. No big bad Angelus or his Sire bitch, and no crazy Dru either, to help me. Just me, single-handedly using my wits and my bare hands. I killed her and then fucked Dru in her blood. Still, something was amiss. Something wasn't right. Something was missing.

A few nights ago, before my wondrous deed, my Sire - Angelus - returns from places unknown. He'd been missing for nearly two years. Darla had never really explained what had happened to him or why he'd run off. He just appeared one night in Darla's bed. I had opened the bedroom door to tell her Dru and I were going hunting, and to my shock and wonder there was my Sire lying in her bed. Angelus. He was asleep, curled upon the bed. It was a position I had found him in many times, but now it looked wrong somehow. I don't know why or how - it was just altered, strange. It was like he had never been in this position at all, and yet at times Angelus and Darla would screw like bunnies. Yes, he was naked and yes, I smelled sex in the air, but something was awry with this picture. Angelus looked dirty for one thing, his hair matted, his skin pale, and he looked thinner, as if he hadn't fed in days. I mean, that would be an impossibility; Angelus always killed at least one human every night. Still, there he was lying thin and frail, pale against the blue sheets. Scratches and bites caused by Darla during their fucking had yet to heal.

There are so many things I had wanted to ask Darla that night, but she never gave me the chance. As soon as I was discovered in her room, she slapped my face and told me to leave immediately. I laughed, and said something about her wanting to fuck Angelus all night and that we'd be out. At that moment my laugher awakened my sleeping sire, and his eyes opened to gaze into mine. Initially his eyes shocked me. They were sad and something else I couldn't put a word to sparkled there - an emotion I'd never seen before. I wanted to linger and watch him, maybe even talk to him, but Darla quickly manhandled me out of the door.

The next night was just as perplexing. Angelus didn't go hunting with us as a group like we used to do. He and Darla went alone. When Angelus finally returned long after Darla, I watched my sire with curious eyes. I studied, contemplated and silently deliberated about this demon who I had tried to please. He smelled of misery and pain. He smelled of blood and vermin. A very strange smell on Angelus entirely. Still, I couldn't get close to him. I couldn't speak to him. Darla appeared then, dragging him away, and asked where he'd been. He made up some lie which I could tell even she knew wasn't the truth. I couldn't help but ponder: why Angelus would need to lie to Darla? Why would he smell of rats?

Seconds later, before I could get near to him, Darla hauled him into her room. She did not close the door properly, and I watched them through the gap. I had always hated it when they screwed. I hated observing them, yet I could not look away. I hated the thought of Angelus touching her, caressing her, taking her. It disgusted me. Maybe it's because he was my Sire, or that I hated the bitch so. I don't know. Maybe it's because I spent so much time trying to impress Angelus so he'd notice me, but he never did. He only had eyes for her. I watched as she ripped off his clothing, then tore her own off in her desperation. It was strange how Angelus didn't return all her enthusiasm. She stripped him bare, pushed him down onto the bed, then rode him hard. Her hands were vicious on his skin, ripping it away and biting deep into his bruising flesh. I tried to deny what I saw in his face, in his eyes - was it pain, suffering and a tear?

I'd seen Darla viciously beat him before, but Angelus would always fight back, like it was a game to them. This time he didn't, he took her beating and finally when he came, he did so with a sob. When Darla had finished with him, she had pushed him over and he curled up on the side of the bed. His body curling into a tight ball, almost as if he was not a willing participant of Darla`s desire. His eyes were closed now, but strange feelings still emanated from him. I tried to dismiss what I had seen. A different game maybe, it would be nothing more. Angelus didn't have emotions, he did not love, and he certainly didn't feel pain.

The next night I killed my first Slayer. I had set my heart on Angelus seeing my finest hour. I wanted him to see the powerful master vampire he'd created. He didn't. He was out there looking for Darla! Always bloody Darla! He clings to her now. Since he has returned, not once have I seen him kill; not once did he bring food home and play with it for awhile.

When Dru and I finally found Angelus and Darla in the riots, he wasn't doing anything I had expected of him. There was no revelling in the death and destruction. No tearing of limbs and drained bodies. No, Angelus was out wandering around, looking for bloody Darla again! Darla, who recently had been watching him like a hawk, and questioning his every movement. When we had congregated, Darla asks what we've been up to. I waited for Angelus to inquire but he just stares at me. He hasn't talked to me since his return. He had ignored me until now.

"Will I tell?" asks Dru. She's jumping around, desperate to tell what she knows.

"No need to be humble," I laugh. There was still silence from Angelus. Silence when I desperately wanted his attention.

"My little Spike just killed himself a Slayer," Dru crows. I can feel her excitement and joy. I cling to her and nuzzle her neck a little. When I used to paw his little creation, Angelus used to complain, growl and drag her away. Now he does nothing.

"Did you hear that?" Darla asks Angelus.

Angelus' dark eyes turn to me. They aren't the same as before. Dru always said he had eyes like needles. Not anymore, it seems. These eyes are.... well, if I had to pick a word it would be something like sad, or miserable, or even grieving. Terms that I would never have associated with Angelus. Remarks that could get you killed or tortured.

"Congratulations, I guess that makes you one of us." His voice doesn't hold the same tone as his words. There are no compliments in his voice, just extreme sadness, and disgust for what I had done. Now *that* notion really surprises me. I hide my disappointment with quick words and wit, because he should be pleased! He should be proud that I am behaving like him, doing just as he does. It's all I've ever done - try to be like Angelus. As bad as him. As evil as him. As heartless as him.

"Don't be so glum, eh? The way you tell it, one Slayer snuffs another one rises. I figure that there is a new chosen one, getting all chosen even as we speak. I tell you what, when and if this new bird shows up, I'll give you first crack at it!"

Angelus doesn't answer me. I don't think he knows what to say to me. That has to be a first. Before it was always, Spike - "you aren't good enough," "You aren't fast enough," "You aren't evil enough."

"Hmm, I smell fear." Dru sniffs the air and moves past Angelus. I can see his body tighten. He looks like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Dru's eyes set on an alley behind him. It's like a magnet to her, drawing her forward. I know he's hiding something, and yet I don't want to betray him.

"This whole place reeks of it," Angelus almost sounds desperate. Desperate for Darla not to discover something. For some reason I help him. I wrap my arms around Dru and pull her against me.

"It's intoxicating," she giggles. I smile and pull her back. I make a show of making it look like I'm nuzzling her neck. Kissing her. The entire time I only have eyes for Angelus. He's scared of something - or for someone. I've never seen Angelus scared before. Don't think I like it.

"Let's get out of here. This rebellion is starting to bore me." Now that sounds like the old him. However, it doesn't have that edge. That sound of malignance and evil. He gives me the impression that he's running from something, trying to hide a secret. Not just what is in that alley either, but something inside him.

I lose myself in Dru's attentions but my eyes stay fixed on Angelus. Darla is watching him strangely, too. She has this look in her eyes - a look of mistrust. She's planning something, I can feel it. Soon my attention is brought back to Dru as she kisses and plays with me. For the first time, she seems to have noticed me, to be proud of me. Although she's not the one I wanted. I wanted Angelus to find me. I wanted him to notice me - to be proud of me.

As soon as we get back to the house we claimed, I take Dru aside and to my bed. Angelus does nothing to stop me. He just looks more dejected and lonely. I don't understand him, but I won't miss the opportunity of Dru's attentions. I hear him leave later, and he returns after about an hour. When he left, Darla went out too. I get this strange feeling that some event will change everything tonight. That something will split out little family apart forever. I have a hunch that Darla is going back to that alley, the one Angelus feared so much. When she returns, a rage follows her, and I know something world-shattering will happen between her and Angelus.

I pull on my trousers and creep out to spy on her. I love Chinese houses. They don't have brick walls like back in England. They are paper-like and easy to listen through, almost transparent too. I follow Darla and listen in the next room, I've seen she has a large basket with her. She puts it down on a table in the middle of the room, and covers it with white lace. Then she waits and so do I. We don't wait long; 10 minutes later, the outer door is opened, and Angelus' light foot enters the room. He seems preoccupied and doesn't even notice that Darla's in the room with him.

"Where have you been?" she snaps.

"Darla," Angelus answers, startled. I notice from his speech that he has changed, somehow even his voice is different. His voice sounds softer, less self-assured. Less Angelus-ly like.

"Answer me!"

"Just out. Why?" he answers quickly. He sounds so ashamed, as if he is hiding something - what is it?

"Feeding?" she snarls.

"Yeah."

"On vermin?"

Huh? Angelus would never feed off rats. Although there was that strange smell on him.

"No," he denies after a beat. He sounds even less confident now, more childlike.

"Don't lie to me!"

"Look, I've killed men. You've seen it!" he adds defensively. Why would she wonder if he has killed? I hear Darla standing and I can smell her rage. That in itself is a unusual emotion. Darla was never angry with her Childe - she looked upon him like some sort of god.

"Rapists and murderers, thieves and scoundrels. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Only evildoers, that's all you hunt now."

A sudden smell of Angelus` pain hits me.

"You swore to me. You said, if I took you back you'd prove yourself."

"And I will."

What the hell is she talking about? Took him back after what? What did he do?

"Good." I hear her move over to the basket, and there is a rustle as she pulls away the cover. A soft cooing is heard from it, the smell of youth floats from the room. I think it's a baby. Angelus was protecting a baby? Why? "Now is your chance."

There is solemn silence from Angelus. I can hear him shifting his feet. I can almost smell his indecision. What is he doing? Why should he have any problem about killing a baby? It's not like it will be his first. I must admit that not even I could bring myself to kill children, like Angelus can. No matters how hard I try to be like him, I think I'm still a little defective. I still feel something for them.

"I went back before dawn. They were still cowering there. Praying to their god for salvation. They didn't know that their only saviour was at the waterfront - dining on rats. I won't be made a fool, Angelus. Not by you. Not by anyone." Living on rats? Saving missionaries? Angelus loves killing the righteous and pure. Take Drusilla for example!

"I didn't mean..." He's stuttering!

"While Spike - Spike! - was out killing a Slayer, you were saving missionaries! From me!"

"I'm sorry..."

"No. No more words. Act!"

I can feel the tension from here. What the hell is going on? I can't make head or tail of any of it. Why is he hesitating? Why can't he just kill this baby and shut her up? For the first time I don't think I know that man standing in there - this being with my Sire`s face. I don't believe he is Angelus.

"I can't." The words are so soft I nearly missed them. I don't understand this and it's driving me around the bloody bend! I want to walk in there and demand to know what the hell is going on. Who is this man and what happened to my Sire? Beyond the wall, I can hear Angelus moving towards the baby.

"What do you mean you can't? You won't!" Darla yells back.

"I can't seem to be able to... uhm, I'm sorry." What's this? I think Angelus is about to save the baby from Darla. He's going to defy her. Angelus never did that.

"You disgust me."

There is a harsh sob from Angelus. The odour of pain and loneliness fill the room. With a sudden rush of movement, Angelus acts. I can hear him grab the baby and jumps out through the window. All that is left is smashed glass and the smell of Darla's fury.

*****
Part 2:

I don't comprehend any of this. I can't decipher their cryptic words. What was Angelus trying to prove? Why a second chance? Why has he returned? Why didn't he notice me? I killed a Slayer for him and all I get is `welcome to the family'. Gee, thanks. No, I`m not going to take this. I'm going to find out what the hell is happening around me. I finish dressing while Darla starts to destroy the house. Dru seems to know something is amiss, so I tell her to stay here and watch Darla. Then I go out into the night to try to track Angelus. I will suss this out - I will understand what is going on with my sire, and my family.

The first place I visit is the docks, where Darla said he was feeding on rats. Initially I thought she lied. I could never envisage Angelus eating rats, or hunting in this filthy place. I'm about to try elsewhere when I catch a glimpse of him. In his arms is the baby, still very much alive and unhurt. I watch shocked as he takes the tiny bungle into a Missionary house. It's filled with Europeans trying to escape China, all waiting for a boat to take them out of this war-torn country. Inside there is shouting and cursing. In moments, Angelus appears, thrown out of the house and being beaten by men with sticks. Why isn't he fighting back? He doesn't do anything to defend himself.

I have a huge case of indecision. Should I help him or not? What is he doing? The men continue to beat him, and still he doesn't raise a finger to defend himself. It's not because he can't. I've seen Angelus take on more men than this. He fought them off without breaking into a sweat; killed them in seconds, he did. So why isn't he doing that now? Why does he cower on the floor and let them rip into his flesh? That's it! I can't take anymore. I can't watch my sire being reduced to this. I mean, it's going to look bad on me if other vampires find out Angelus was beaten up by humans.

I run towards him and start picking off his attackers one by one. Suddenly, Angelus realises I am present and he calls to me. I'm not sure I heard him right.

"NO! Leave me... Don't kill them!" Angelus doesn't want me to hurt or kill the humans? The beating must have unhinged him... or has he finally lost it?

"Leave me!" he cries again. One of the men gets a lucky hit in and smacks him square in the face. Blood gushes from his broken nose and split lip.

That's it! The smell of sire's blood is overpowering in my bloodlust, making me change into vamp face and everyone starts screaming: "devil!" Yeah, that's right, run from me, cower before me. I really want to hurt them for what they have done. I would love to snap their necks one by one - the way Angelus taught me - but I don't think he is gonna let me do it. He's begging me on his knees to save them. To leave them be. What is his damage?

Ultimately, I haul Angelus up by the arms and drag him out of there. He feels damn strange. Lighter and thinner than before. It's like he hasn't eaten for days. When I've reached a safe alley away from the missionaries, I drop my Sire into a heap on the floor. I need to know what the hell this means. What's wrong with him? Why all these changes in character until I can hardly recognise him? All I keep telling myself is this is not Angelus. This is not my Sire.

"Who are you?" I finally roar. I stare down at the heap on the floor, bleeding and broken. He does absolutely nothing; he doesn't fight, doesn't answer me, just lies there in the dirt and muck - bleeding. Well, I won't let sire's blood go to waste. If this is Angelus - if this is my bastard of a Sire - then he's going to sure as hell fight me when I do this.

I lean down and lick his smooth bloodied cheek and chin. Angelus' eyes bore into mine. However, they are filled not with anger, but fear. He fears me! Yet I cannot stop, I continue to lick and clean his face. The potency of sire's blood is irresistible. I've never tasted it since that day he dragged me from Drusilla and turned me himself. His blood is sensational. It's so powerful, old, strong and sad... and sad? What the fuck? I'm feeling an immense guilt inside his blood. Guilt directed at me!

"What the hell?" I back away from him as if he's covered in holy water. Angelus doesn't prevent me - he doesn't do anything. Just lies there - waiting. I think he's waiting for me to leave him, or deny him just as Darla did - twice. But I need answers, and if he makes himself scarce again, then I'm not going to get any. So I've made my decision. My first plan. I heave Angelus to his feet and half carry, half drag him back to the house. Although I'm not taking him inside, because I can hear Darla on the rampage from here. I dump him in some deserted stables, not far from the house, and leave him there while I go and deal with the Darla mess.

As I'm returning to get Dru, I realise that in my haste I`ve not secured him. I turn and run back to the stables, only to discover Angelus sobbing on the floor. He has curled himself into a tiny foetal position and rocks like a child, totally despondent and dejected. A part of me is gobsmacked that Angelus would do this. The demon part of me is appalled by his actions. I don't speak... I can't speak to him as I grab a leather harness and bind his hands to a wooden post. He contemplates me with fearful eyes, but doesn't say a word. He doesn't lift a finger to stop me. I leave him there and return to the chaos awaiting me. In the back of my mind, I wonder. I can only speculate about what has befallen my Sire. What happened to him two years ago - what has happened here today.

When I enter the house I see that Darla has totally destroyed it. Everything is in ruins, from clothing to bed linen, and every piece of furniture has been broken in two. Nothing is left standing in her wake. I discover Dru sitting in the corner of my room. Her face is black and blue from Darla's fists, and she weeps with high-pitched sobs. I take her into my arms and rock her gently.

"Leave here!" Darla advances on us screaming, "Take your filthy kin with you. I never want to see you again. I never want smell you again. You sicken me. You smell of him!" She is insistent with her screams and demands for us to leave. The truth is, I don't want to remain with her either. Now she has thrown Angelus out, there is nothing to tie us to her. Which is good, because I detest the bitch.

I calmly tell Dru to gather her dolls and wait for me at the door. I grab what remains of our clothing and shove them into a case. Then I go in search of Darla, which is pretty easy - just follow the path of destruction.

"What did you do to him?" I challenge her. She turns to me, staring deep into my eyes for a moment. With dawning comprehension, she starts to laugh.

"You followed him didn't you? Does he disgust you like he does me?" Her face changes and she snarls at me. "Did you kill him and rid him of that filthy soul?"

Huh? Soul? Angelus has a soul!?

"What do you mean? What soul?"

She looks at me incredulously and laughs again. "Poor, young William. I know all about you. I watched you over the years." She leans towards me and whispers softly, as if divulging a dark secret, "You wanted him, didn't you? You wanted to please him, you wanted him to accept you - to notice you. He never did, did he? He never saw how you tried to copy him. Well, you are weak, just as he is. You aren't a real vampire, William - he is like you now - still possessing your disgusting humanity," She hisses the last words like they are poison.

"The name is Spike, and I killed a Slayer - unlike you or Angelus." My words don't sound as convincing as I wish them to be. I can't help but dwell on her words. Are they true? Am I weak? No! I've killed like any vampire. I'm evil, strong - the Big Bad. What she says is a downright lie. Fuck it, she isn't worth the effort. I turn on my heel and leave her to her rage. At the door, I take Dru by the arm, and we leave Darla forever.

Back at the stables, I find Angelus hasn't moved a muscle from where I left him. He hasn't even tried to break free from his bonds. It's going to be dawn soon, and I want to put a little distance between Darla and us by then. When Dru spots Angelus, she just stands there as still as a statue at the door.

"Not Daddy," she moans, "Not Daddy. All weeping rivers. Broken graves." Sometimes not even I can decipher her words. She speaks a language the rest of the world isn't privy to. Angelus hears her though, and looks up at her, obviously distressed. I can see tears in his eyes. "Tears for me? NO! Tears for her - pretty nun you killed - pretty girl with flowers."

"Dru, be a good girl and look after your doll," I suggest to her. Her dolls have always kept her entertained, as well as giving the rest of us some peace.

"Oh, Miss Edith, I've been a bad mummy!" She rocks the doll in her arms as Angelus continues to stare at her. I see pain in his eyes, an immense sorrow. Is that regret there? Regret for sending her has mad as a hatter?

Is Darla right about him? Has Angelus got a soul now? Is that the cause of the changes I see in his eyes? Damn, I have so many questions it's making my head spin. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted a normal vampire clan, but nooooo, what do I get? One insane sister and a sire who has a soul. Just great! Now what am I supposed to do with them?

"Get up," I direct my Sire as I untie him. I'm not in the mood for his whimpering. I'm far too pissed off to try to persuade him to move. However, he should fight against me for saying that to him. He should beat me for my insolence, but he does nothing. He just sits there staring at Dru. "Get up!" This time I kick him and he turns to me.

"Leave me!" he wails.

I'm really flaming mad now. I've finally had enough. I can't take this crap. I grab him by his blood-stained shirt and wrench him to his feet. He just stands there, swaying. Next, I find a leather collar, which might have belonged to some animal, and wrap it around his pale neck. He doesn't lift a finger to stop me. Angelus would have skinned me for doing this. To his collar I attach a length of chain, and start to tug him towards the door. A big part of me wants him to fight me - to rebel against my traitorous actions against his person. He doesn't do anything but stand there unmoving. He doesn't even try to defend himself - to save himself from this degradation.

"Move!" I yank hard on the chain in my hand, and after a moment he follows. I grab hold of Dru's arm and we start walking. We make a strange little trio - 3 vampires, one insane, one evil and one soul-ed. I keep thinking that the people we pass will stop us. But during a time like this they don't notice, and they don't care about anyone else. They are running just like we are. In the end I have to smile. Here I am leading Angelus with a chain and collar. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. I'm not going to forget this day for a long time.

Two weeks later:

We left China by catching a boat leaving for Europe. It has been a long voyage around India, up past Africa, across land to the Mediterranean and another boat to Greece. Angelus has been silent since the night I found him. He follows behind me on his collar and chain without a word.

We arrived in Greece at a large fishing town on the fourteenth night, and I decided that we had run far enough. The voyage was hard and there was little for us to live on. It was a strange two weeks we spent together.

Angelus grows weaker by the day and refuses to eat humans. I found him a couple of rats, but he doesn't even eat them. I don't think he cares anymore. He doesn't speak, he doesn't wash, and he doesn't eat. It's not normal. This is not the Angelus I've known for over twenty years. That Angelus would have a fit if his shirt got dirty. Now he hasn't changed in a fortnight.

Dru sulked all the way here. She didn't eat much, and sat all day in our shared cabin staring at Angelus. He obviously despises her eyes on him all the time; only when the staring became too much for him did he try to escape the chain and face away from her. He weeps when we sleep. I pretended to sleep once and just listened to him. Drusilla and I even had sex, and he just wept through that too. Maybe even more so. Maybe it was because our coupling aroused him. I could smell him in the air, but he did nothing to relieve himself. See, he's nothing like the real Angelus.

When we finally reached Greece, I obtained a house for us, and in the dead of night I moved Angelus and Dru into it. Then I had to find servants that Dru wouldn't kill. Next, food for Angelus. After that I have to take Dru on the hunt. Fucking hell - I feel like a parent. That isn't my position in this clan. I'm not the one who should be doing this running around, Angelus should be. He should be the one planning all this - I should be the one enjoying all the killing to be done.

For some strange reason, since leaving China and Darla, I haven`t felt the need to kill mindlessly anymore. I don't know why. I always had thought I enjoyed it, or maybe I just did it to make Angelus notice me. I wanted him to behold that I am just as evil as he is - well, was. I know I am going to have to do something soon about Angelus not eating. He's becoming thin and weak, almost corpse-like in appearance. He'll be of no use to anyone soon.

This night, I take Angelus out on his leash, looking for food. He walks quietly behind me, and doesn't do a thing without instruction beforehand. Dru runs ahead, looking for a tasty dinner. A moment later she vanishes into an alley, and a sudden shout is heard.

"Dru!" I call out. I know she's a vampire, but sometimes she's not a very good one. Oh, she's evil alright, but she's a little too crazed to be able to fight all that well. I know that in time I'm going to have to teach her to look after herself. Angelus can't do it. What can he teach her now - advanced depression? I sprint towards the alley, dragging Angelus behind me. We skid to a halt when I take in the scene before us. Four huge, burly men are holding Dru down on the cobbled street. They tear at her dress, endeavouring to get between her legs. She cries out in fear, and I wonder why the hell she doesn't just bite them. I told you she was a little out of it. I'm about to pounce on them, when I hear a loud growl from behind me.

Angelus has morphed into his true face and snarls at the men holding Dru down. I let go of the leash as he leaps into the fray. Men are catapulted through the air as Angelus rips and tears. A flash of fang and strong killing hands finish off Dru's would-be attackers. It doesn't take him long to finish them off, feeding on the last until he`s dead. I comfort Dru in my arms as I gape at my savage but protective Sire in action. When all the men are dead, I wipe away her tears, then turn to the silent Angelus.

"Angelus, th..."

"NO!" he screams. My sire pulls himself up, and with extreme effort changes back to human features. I swear that I see tears in his eyes. "NO!" he weeps. His hands tear at himself, claws ripping into his own skin. "Oh, please no! I dinna mean it. I..." Angelus slides down the wall and starts to shrivel into his knees.

*****
Part 3:

He moans laments in what I think is Gaelic, but I can't be sure. I've never been to Ireland. His hands continue to claw at his own skin, seemingly trying to cleave it from his bones. I can't move. I think it's the shock of my sire being so quiet and doing nothing for so long, and then all of a sudden he becomes alive and kills Dru's attackers. I know he did it instinctively. He protected us, his Childer. He protected us - demons - when he himself has a soul. Why? He made with the disappearing act when he first got the soul two years ago. He ignored us when he returned to Darla. So why protect us now? Gods, I just wish I knew what was going on in his unhinged and soul-disturbed mind . I wish I could unravel the mystery of his soul.

Dru pulls herself from my embrace and crawls over to our Sire. "Pretty girl screams inside. So many little hands pulling at the edges taking you all away. Eating you inside - chomp, chomp."

I wish I could speak Dru`s language. I have no idea what she means. Is it guilt she's referring to? She prevents his hands tearing at his skin by holding them together.

"God doesn't want you. You are damned," she says.

Angelus stops crying and gapes at her. Her fingers stroke his face and she actually smiles. Nothing with malice, but a real pretty-girl smile. It seems to calm him and he leans into her caresses. I wonder if he cares for us or if it is just blood calling to blood?

"We want you."

Huh? What did she say? I thought she didn't like him anymore. All through the voyage, all she did was stare at him, and she never even tried to touch him. I was the one who did everything.

"Spikey wants you. You shine in his heart."

"Dru, that's a load of crap and you know it," I correct her, quickly. I don't want him. I don't want him one little bit, nope; I don't want anything from him. I've never wanted Angelus, and I certainly don't want this broken being. NO!

Angelus doesn't take his eyes away from Dru. I think she understands something I can't. She sees inside of him, things that I've been trying to comprehend for weeks. Suddenly, I'm jealous. It grows as Angelus leans into her embrace and lets her comfort him. I don't want her touching him! I want...

NO! I jump up and briskly brush the dirt from my clothes. "Dru, take him home and stay there." With that I leave them. I can't be around them at the moment. I can't bear to look upon them. I wanted Dru. That's it. I was jealous because Dru was touching Angelus. Touching his soft smooth skin. Feeling that large muscled body around her. To feel the sensation of his perfectly hard cock digging into her stomach... Woah! Where did that spring from?

That's it! No more thinking! Tonight's for killing, and lots of it. Tonight, I won't muse about Dru or Angelus. Got it! Fine! No thinking!

Dawn:

Oh, shit! I am so drunk! It's getting kinda late too. If I don't make it back soon it's going to be flamed Spike for dinner. I laugh and stumble again. Luckily for me, I make it to the front door just as the sun peeks over the horizon. I wish I could see it just once. Just one more time. Sometimes I miss it so. I never appreciated it when I was alive; not once did I take time to watch a sunrise. Then the opportunity was gone forever.

I walk - well, crawl, into the main bedroom, and to my shock find Angelus and Dru entwined in the bed. My first thought was that they had shagged, but even in my drunken state I can tell that there is no smell of sex or arousal in the air. No, it smells, looks, and feels more like comfort. I move to sit on the bed next to Angelus, my sire.

My beautiful shining angelic-faced sire. My soul-ed sire. He's so ravishing now, more than ever. Around his neck is that collar, the one I put on him back in China. Not at any time has he tried to remove it, and for the life of me I can't think why. My hand strokes it gently, and I brush against his cool skin with my careless, drunken hand. It doesn't obey me like it should. My hand grazes his cheek, and then moves to rest on his chest. His shirt has been pulled open during sleep. I can see the perfect marble skin of his chest. There are cuts and bruises, yes, but they only add to his splendour.

I remember the first time I saw Angelus. I had just scrabbled my way out of my grave, and there he stood, waiting for me. He laughed as I pulled myself dirty and bedraggled from my coffin. It had been raining and the soil had turned to mud. He had chucked merrily and compared me to a drowned rat. It was then that I decided to show him I was better than that.

He took me on my first hunt, and to my everlasting shame, I wasn't very successful. The first sight of blood made me sick, and I brought everything I'd eaten back up again. My Sire was foaming at the mouth with rage. He screamed about some woman called Dru: why did she choose a worthless little shit like me? Even my poems were bloody terrible. For weeks after that I became Angelus' punching bag. He never touched me but to hurt me. He never spoke unless to speak ill of me. But for some reason I wanted to prove myself to him. Dru took me in and looked after me like a baby. Darla ignored me and left me well alone - for which I am eternally grateful. The same was not true of Angelus, he remained an enigma to me. He was a puzzle I wanted to crack. I wanted his pride, his pride at my accomplishments. Also to my horror, and then my eternal shame, I wanted his love.

I soon came to learn that Angelus was incapable of love. Many a time I watched him fuck Darla and/or Dru. Not once did he touch them like he loved them. He was incapable of showing them any tenderness. I wanted what he wouldn't give to them. I wanted to own Angelus' heart. So I decided on a plan. Damn good one too. It would have worked if Angelus hadn't gotten himself a bloody soul - I'm not sure what that means yet - but it messed my plan up.

During my fledging years I resolved to become every bit like Angelus. I strove to be as he was - heartless, vile, evil - but most of all I strove to be accepted by him, and to be near him. Still, he ignored me. I killed for him, massacred for him, killed a slayer for him - a phenomenal action that I thought would please him. I remember his words; "now you are one of us." Those words should have given me great joy. They should have spirited me into his arms and into his bed, but they never did. Those words were supposed to be all I wanted. Words that should haven given me his acceptance, but that emotion did not exist in his words. All I heard and all I saw in his eyes was disgust. Disgust in my sire's eyes? I had disgusted the great Angelus. But now I know different. I was too late. My actions weren't witnessed by Angelus, but by his soul. It was his soul reflected back at me that day. That's what it means - Angelus has a conscience. He has emotions, sentiments, passion and spirit. He can love, hate and be disgusted - so unlike Angelus. It was his soul that wept that night for the dead girl. It is his soul living here with me now.

I have attempted not to think about that night since we left China. The day I became Angelus-like. When I betrayed all of who I am. I endeavour not to contemplate about how I tried to please him. How I strove to make him notice me at long last. Angelus never did, but the soul saw me. It knows who I am... no... wait, it doesn't. It knows what I tried to be for Angelus. I became Spike for him. Didn't... doesn't he see that? I killed for him. Tortured for him. Suffered the death of my humanity for him. All the soul does now is hate me. Now all I have left is a memory of the man I used to be. The one deep inside - the one I set out to kill for Angelus - tried but somehow never could. I could never wash William out of me completely. William, who wishes he could interpret what that Slayer asked of me at her death. Wishes that I had not partaken of her blood. He yearns for Angelus' soul-ed eyes to look upon me with something other than revulsion. He desires that this new being could love what his predecessor could not.

I lean over and take a deep whiff of Angelus' scent. I should have worked it out before. He still smells of Angelus, but deep down, hidden inside, I can scent his soul. I can sniff out his goodness, his innocence and spirit. It makes a part of me sick, but another part wonders: can he love me now? Can his soul see me - perceive who I really am, and not this charade?

I believe I am far too drunk to have any control over my body. I lean nearer to Angelus and take in his unique scent. I can smell something more than him in this warm bedroom. I get a whiff of arousal, and I think it's mine. I move to lie down on the bed and press myself into his bed-warmed side. My tongue flicks out and tastes the skin of his chest. He's cool and smooth; he tastes clean, with a hint of sadness. I slide further up so that his lips are beneath mine. Is this what I want? I press my mouth to his and I feel as if I could weep. His lips taste of peaches.

His mouth opens beneath mine and I slip my tongue into his cool wet depths. The taste is stronger here - pungent and fresh, and I want - need - more of him. I stroke his teeth and palette, trying to tempt his tongue to play with mine. Angelus groans under me and his tongue finally thrusts into my mouth. He sweeps inside, tasting, taking all I am offering him. He feels so wickedly good. His mouth is fantabulous - more perfect than in any of my dreams. His arm moves, and his fingers reach out to touch mine.

Without warning I am thrown from the bed and Angelus scrambles away from me. "OW!" I complain as my head hits the wall. He stares at me with wide, frightened eyes. What the hell is wrong with him? I only kissed him - and it was bloody first-rate too.

"Why... how... I..." he stammers, wide wet eyes staring unbelievingly into mine. I've never noticed how perfectly brown they are. How they reflect all that he - all that his soul - is feeling.

"For god's sake, you haven't spoken for two weeks, and now you can't make a sentence. Just bloody well spit it out!" I shout, enraged. I've had enough of his self-pity. He submissively lowers his eyes and then, to my utter amazement, starts to undress. He strips out of his trousers and shirt, but leaves his collar on. He kneels on the floor before me, and believe you me it's a breathtaking sight. I felt my dick respond as soon as he commenced stripping. Now it's erect and throbbing and I want him and I wi... Hold on!

"What are you doing?!" I yell, suddenly vexed.

"I deserve it. I've done worse to you - take what you want."

Oh, Bloody hell! He's sacrificing his body to me for his supposed crimes. He wants me to rape him! I don't want to violate him! I want him willingly in my arms - that was what the whole brooding part was about! I don't just brood for anyone - I want him to see me! I wanted him to notice I had always lusted for him... I need him to sodding want me! I want... There's a hell of a lot of wants here. Fuck! He's botched the whole thing up. I can't think straight now. I start to pace before him and reach in my pocket for those new things they call cigarettes. I light one up and try to calm down.

He's always pissing up my plans. I did everything I could to get him to notice me as Angelus - and now he wants me to ravage and violate him! I mean I could just take him - shag him raw. The problem remains that I won't allow my desire for him to be turned into his punishment. I won't be a messenger for his penance. No bloody way! I continue to pace and I watch him from the corner of my eye. He lifts his head and stares meekly up at me. He's so beautiful, even more so, if possible, with that light in his eyes.

"Daddy?" Dru calls in a sleepy voice. She sits up in bed, and studies Angelus for a moment. "Naughty Daddy, it's daylight. Come back to bed and tell me a story," she scolds him, wagging her finger.

"He'll come in a moment, luv. Go back to sleep." Dru does as I suggest and smuggles deeper under the covers.

I turn my attention back to Angelus to tell him... hold on, he's gone. What the hell? I run from the bedroom as quick as my rapidly sobering legs will let me, and into the courtyard. I usually love these continental houses with their little sunny courtyards - but not today, however. Because Angelus now stands on the edge of that courtyard, his body tensed in preparation to cross into the light. Beyond him the morning sun slowly creeps towards us.

"Angelus! What the hell are you doing?"

"I deserve this. I deserve to die. I did so much evil. I am an abomination before god! A murderer and... oh... oh god, I killed so many. They scream out to me from the dark. They scream for mercy... for justice... I can't shut them out... I can't... they never keep quiet."

I don't interrupt him but let him continue, for this is my first talk ever with the soul. I need to hear what it has to say.

"I tried to deny them. I tried to go back to my life with Darla... with my family. I wanted it uncomplicated again. I wanted to exist without the compassion, the torment, and the fear. I couldn't... I couldn't kill. I tried... I really did... I just couldn't." He gives a loud sob. "I wanted to go home. I wanted to belong again, but I don't have a home now... I... I disgust you, don't I? You won't even take your revenge on me. This body is a vile monstrosity, a conduit of evil, so I have to destroy it."

Destroy it! Destroy that paragon of a body? Now *that* would be the real crime here.

"NO! Don't you dare move a muscle!" This soul never ceases to astound me. It's so contrary to Angelus. It feels, it fears, it cares. It is learning to accept its emotions. Emotions that Angelus never experienced, for he was devoid of all humanity. "You never felt this before, did you? Before the soul you felt nothing."

"No!" he bellows, "I killed, I took and I never felt anything. I was empty... oh god, I wish I was empty now. All I hear is their screams. I try to grieve for them. I try to say I'm sorry so many times, but it's not enough. It hurts. Oh god, William, it hurts!" Angelus collapses on the floor and starts to sob again. He called me William! He has never called me that - ever. It was boy, it, thing, hey you - never my name. And he never asked me for help.

"Come back to bed, Angelus." I tell him, noticing the slight flinch as I use his name. Also it's morning, I'm drunk, and I can't deal with this right now! However, my words have upset him even more, and he weeps into his bare knees. I just realised what I said. I called him Angelus. That's what hurt him. Ehem... What to call him? I just want to go back to bed.

"Angel, come back to bed." I say again. This time I get a response. He looks up at me, and beautiful, dark chocolate eyes, filled with tears, stare into mine. I don't know how I could have ever mistaken him for the same old Angelus when he came back. Those eyes are filled with the radiance of a soul. I thought it would disgust me, but the truth is I don't think he can. My desire outweighs my disgust. I wish I could comfort him, but what can I say? He did do all those things, but I wouldn't wish him to be without this soul. Without it he would be devoid of all humanity. Why should I deny him - I mean this version of my sire can actually feel - he can love me. I *want* him to love me.

I take Angel's hand, and gently lead him back into the bedroom. I quickly shed my own clothing, and steer his despairing-self over to the bed. He sits down, totally grief-stricken, and looks up at me with needful eyes. My erect, naked member isn't far from his mouth, and I wish he would take me into his wet depths. He doesn't, just stares into my eyes, as if he can find all the answers there that he requires, as if I could take his pain away. This simple action is so sexual and sensual. So erotic - him just looking at me, me looking at him. I help him lie back on the bed and I slide in next to him. We face each other and my hand rests on his chest. Angel shivers. I wonder if he has ever touched another man. I haven't, and yet I don't feel afraid.

"Angel, have you ever...?" I whisper.

My sire shakes his head and looks a little flustered. I lean forward and brush my lips against his warmed ones. He slowly parts his lips and invites me inside. He tastes better than the first time, as our tongues touch and taste in a sensual dance. Finally, when I pull away, he asks me the same question.

"No, I waited for you," I answer truthfully. I French kiss him again, to prevent any questions he might have. I don't want to speak right now. I just want to touch and hold. I pull him into my arms, ignoring my throbbing cock, and finally allow myself to sleep.

*****