Title: Total Eclipse: Angelus
Ascendant Series
Date Posted:
Author: Buffywatcher
Feedback: Constructive comments
always welcome: [email protected]
Pairing: Primarily Angel(us)/Spike
Rating: R Possibly a bit of
romantic NC-17’ish circumstances.
Spoilers: None this story takes
place in an AU setting and will pretty much ignore the current season of Angel.
Warnings: This story will
contain instances of extreme violence, sexuality and character deaths.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing them
for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained
by their owner and accredited license holders.
Writer’s Notes: This story takes
place in an AU setting and includes a scene challenge posted by Angela with
some minor artistic changes. Connor has been born, Spike has his soul and isn’t
chipped as well and Angel and the LA Gang have taken over the running of Wolfram & Hart. However the
incident with the first has not taken place and Buffy died and has been resurrected.
As always thanks are going out to GF, MarieC, Luba, and Mera my most excellent
group of Beta/Editors. Very special thanks to Mera, she got in on the ground
floor on this one and chimed in with some big assistance so dedicating this one
to her.
Distribution: If I’ve already
been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want
it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that
you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit J.
Summary: The Powers That Be
offer to release Angel from his destiny as a Champion but they make a critical
error that may well doom their cause forever.
*
His eyes snap open and he picks himself up off the floor, hiding his
sensitive eyes from the glaring brightness of the light shining above him. He
groans as he recognises the luminescent forms
of the Oracles.
“Why have you brought me here?” He demands looking up. He’s getting
pretty fed up with being manipulated by “higher beings”. It seems the more he
puts his life on the line fighting the good fight, the more pain that comes
from it. Who helps the helpers he thinks helplessly. He looks around and finds
he’s in the same annoyingly foggy coliseum that these drama queens seem to
prefer so that they can look down on the “lower beings” they have felt it
necessary to leash.
**You are to be offered a choice that no lower being before you has been
offered. We will release you from the pact with that we serve if it is your
wish is to be free. Another has arisen that will willingly take your place in
order that you may be free from this destiny. You must be the one to choose.
Will you take the freedom we offer?**
“And who is the fool that will willingly give up their life to take my
place? No one could know how hard this road is to walk, the pain that haunts my
waking hours and steals my sleep from me.”
**You must CHOOSE, Champion. We offer you freedom with your soul forever
bound. Happiness could once more be yours. Even your humanity if you wish it.
Shanshu may be realised but you must CHOOSE.**
“And what elusive and unattainable prize for your new Champion then, oh
wise ones?”
**The new Champion desires not but to free you. He will serve in your
place until he dies. That is what he has offered for your freedom, for your
life.**
“And why would someone do that for me? There would be nothing in it for
them!”
**Love.**
“You’re saying someone loves me enough to do this?! Who!?!!”
**The son has followed in the Father’s footsteps, fought from darkness
to the light.**
“NO!! Haven’t you done enough to Connor?! He was only a child and you
stole that innocence for reasons I STILL cannot fathom. To be your Champion is
to be in pain! I will not have my son become one more of your disposable
commodities!” He hears the sound of heavy footsteps from somewhere beyond the
fog they persist in always mucking the place up with and he starts looking
around. There! A heavy black biker boot appears first, attached to a powerful
but shapely leg framed by black leather. His mouth drops open as he knows who
is coming without needing to see more.
**The son will offer his life for the Father.**
The Oracles intone in eerie tandem speech as Spike steps
from the darkness surrounding the edge of the fog and into the light. **The
Childe will take up the Sire’s burden. CHOOSE.**
“NO!!” Twin voices cry out as they
fly up in their beds, crying out and clutching their heads as though to keep
them from exploding. As one, despite the hours separating them, they lie down
and say a silent thank you that it was all a nightmare and let their eyes slip
closed as sleep once more reclaims them.
The next day the dream plagues Angel
to the point that he can do little else but sit and stare blankly. Fred, Gunn,
and Wesley have all tried both together and singly to talk to him about what is
bothering him but the deep freeze proved too much for all of them. He literally
in Wesley’s case has one by one denied that anything is wrong and physically
barred them from his office. Worried that something is seriously wrong they
decide to place a call to Giles in Sunnydale to ask his advice.
“Mouldy Oldie’s Shop, we sell books and dusty books,
and we have a special on our even dustier books.” A familiar voice purrs from
the speaker phone and the assembled listeners all groan in unison. They hear a
quiet chuckle. “Oi Giles! From the sound of it I’d say the
“Christ Spike, I’m sitting a foot
away you bloody pain in the ass!” They hear the scrape of the chair and a brief
scuttle and the sound of laughter. “How many times have I
told you to behave you Blond
menace?! This is a BUSINESS, Spike!”
“Oi, you know you love me bad Rupes!” The purring
voice shoots back. “Besides I’m good for business ya know ya bleeder! And to
answer your question that was 4,025.”
There is more laughter and someone
snickers. “Well I for one think we should be thankful that the Aerobics Studio
moved in across the way! We should have stripped Spike’s shirt off and had him
help Xander fix the window display sooner! Our profit margin has doubled!”
Anya. Mercenary as ever.
“Well that was a better plan than
letting her hose them off and telling them to go sprawl over the hood of his
car during the late class.” A young girl’s voice chortles.
They hear a sudden cough and it’s
obvious that Giles is trying to cover up his amusement as more laughter breaks
out. It is the soft laughter over their shoulder that has the LA Crew spinning around in their chairs. Angel is
leaning against the door jam laughing and his eyes are shining.
“Oi! With my luck I’d end up attracting
a bunch of hard up Initiative boys looking to do some probing of my posterior
that has NOTHING to do with science! Not looking to have another free stay in
Dr. Frankenstein’s lab on the govvy dollar there Mates!”
“Now, now Spike you know we’d never
let them take you back again and we did figure out how to get that modification
chip out eventually.”
“Sure after two years when it almost
killed me.” The voice sounds annoyed with a bit of a growl and its obvious
still a sore subject for Spike. There’s the sound of another scraping set of
chair legs. “Thanks for the hug Nibblet, I needed that. By the way its getting
a bit late lil bit, we should be getting you home. No do not give me the booboo
face; you know it doesn’t work on me lil brat. Get your things together,
there’s a pet.” More laughter and the sound of muttering.
“More moving and less talking back Bit. I’ll take the
Nibblet home to Tara, Slayer then we can start with our patrols for the
evening.”
“Thanks Spike, I’ll be home in a
little while. Reminds me Willie called he said you can pick up your order, may
want to stop by and pick that up on the way.”
“Will do
Slayer.”
The purring voice is accompanied by the whoosh of an opening door and the
tinkle of a small bell. “Christ hurry up bit, I think the late class just got out!”
The sound of
more chair legs and snickers. “Too late looks like he’s got a pack of
Aerobics bunnies chasing after him.” The snicker becomes outright laughter.
“One of ‘em
even has a camera!”
“We should stop selling books and
find a way to sell Spike!” More laughter before Giles reminds everyone he’s on
the phone and quiets them down.
“What can we do for you Angel?”
“Initiative? Dr.
Frankenstein’s lab? BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION CHIP?”
Angel growls from the doorway.
“Well yes…well. You see we had a bit
of a problem here with a government organisation a couple of years back…”
Angel listens and his heart screams
for what Spike had to endure. His hand tightens around the door jam in slow
increments as his anger builds and finally he rips his way from the doorway and
stalks back into his office, slamming the door.
Wesley stares after Angel and comes
to a decision. “I say Giles…have you considered taking a break for a week or
so? We’ve got plenty of room here…you could all come see the sights.” Wesley
ignores the stares of his friends and motions for them to play along. “We could
use a bit of help on some of our tougher cases if you’ve got some fighters to
spare.”
There’s a moment of quiet as they
hear the Sunnydale gang discussing it then Giles voice is back. “That’s a bit
tricky right now Wesley. Its finals week for the college crew and Xander has
just been promoted to foreman he can’t leave right now. The only fighter we’ve
got to spare is Spike…and I don’t think that it’s necessarily a good idea for
us to send him…Angel and all…” Giles says uncertainly.
“I’m sure everything will be fine
Giles, it is just for a couple of days.” Wesley says smoothly. Giles excuses
himself and they can hear quiet talking but nothing very distinct but then
Giles returns. “We’ll send Spike along with Dawn and Andrew; they can be a
buffer if things…get tense.”
“I say Buffy will let Dawn…” Wesley
is frankly shocked by that.
“Spike has lived in Buffy’s home for
over a year, Wesley. He takes care of Dawn a great part of the time and has
recently taken to looking after Andrew in the same manner. There have been
quite a few changes around here since Spike got his soul and all.” Giles says
quietly.
“His SOUL!” Five voices cry out as Angel storms
out of his office.
“For god’s sake Buffy haven’t you
told them ANYTHING?! You said you’d take care of it!” Giles voice is shouting
in the background while pandemonium reigns in the offices of Wolfram and Hart.
“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Angel roars and
in quick time and both groups fall silent almost instantly and Angel forces himself to calm down. “Are you telling me someone cursed
Spike with a soul and NO ONE THOUGHT TO SAY ANYTHING?!” Realising his shouting Angel
forces himself to calm down as he stalks agitatedly
around the table, making his friends nervous.
“Well…he wasn’t cursed…exactly.” A
voice squeaks through the phone line.
“And just how did he come to have a
soul if he wasn’t cursed Buffy?!” Angel wonders what he ever saw in that
pathetically vapid little twit and chalks it up to Hellmouth madness.
“Well…he doesn’t talk about it much
actually…” Buffy says falteringly. There’s the sound of a scuffle over the
phone.
“God you’re all pathetic! Just tell
the man that Spike and Buffy had orgasms and Spike went to
Angel’s footsteps falter and he
falls onto the couch with a horrible ringing in his ears. Spike…Buffy…orgasms…soul…Spike…using
him…Buffy…Spike…He can’t take it and he throws his hands over his ears trying
to stop the room from spinning. Fred rushes over and makes with her Mother hen
routine but Angel is too locked into his own private hell to pay much attention
to her.
“Spike TOLD me not to worry Angel
that he had enough to do, what with the new job descript and all in the swanky
tower bit! He said he would deal with his own problems in his own way.” Buffy
says heatedly. “And I was not using him!” A moment of
silence. “Okay maybe I was. A little. But he put a stop to it
and we decided to be friends!” In that moment Buffy sounds very much like the
little girl she will probably always be.
Angel rolls to his feet and stalks
out of the room as Wesley stares after him worriedly, but to his mind things
are starting to make more sense. Angel may well have sensed the unrest in the younger
Vampire, through the shared blood connecting them through Drusilla. “If you
could ask Spike to arrive here tomorrow if possible we’d appreciate the help.”
Giles promises to talk to him right
away and hangs up and Wesley breathes a sigh of relief. The relationship
between Angel and Spike has always rather fascinated him; perhaps this will
prove to be a valuable time to observe them both. He dismisses everyone and
dials Angel’s cell phone. “Giles will do his best to have Spike here by
tomorrow.”
“I’m taking the S.U.V. to Sunnydale
now, I’ll bring him back myself.” Angel hangs up without further word and
Wesley congratulates himself on figuring out what’s bothering Angel and taking
steps to fix it.
Angel tenses and releases his hands
around the wheel as he screeches out of the underground parking facility and
into the early evening twilight. His only thought is that he needs to see
Spike. He’s not sure why it’s so important but this is something that he has to
do. He thought he was alone, isolated by circumstances and forced to live alone
as the man on the proverbial island. He’s not alone anymore. The Childe has
followed in the Sire’s footsteps. That phrase has been stuck in his mind since
the night of the dream, replaying endlessly as had the visions of Spike from
the dream.
He pulls up at Buffy’s home just in
time to see the tail of a familiar black duster sweeping around the corner of
the street and before he knows it, he’s jumped out and he runs to catch up. “Spike!” He careens around the corner and almost trips over
Spike’s crossed legs as he leans against a fence smoking a cigarette. Buffy is
talking animatedly over some drama in her life no doubt with an equally bouncy
Xander and
“Why don’t you all play feelings,
I’ll take care of the patrol for the evening.” Spike drawls tossing his
cigarette aside and grounding it out with the toe of his boot. Without even
glancing at him, Angel watches as he strides away into the night, duster
flaring out behind him. He tries to follow but Buffy clings chattering some
nonsense about missing him and he’s hard pressed not to rip her arms out of
their sockets so he can follow Spike.
“Wait up Blondie, I’ll come with!”
Angel watches as Xander runs after Spike like an eager little puppy. He’s
stunned to see Spike slow up so Xander can catch up and even pats his shoulder
in a surprisingly friendly gesture. As far as he knows Xander’s always had
little regard for Vampires. That seems to have changed. In Spike’s case at
least, he thinks darkly.
“We should go patrol.” He tries to
extricate himself from Buffy’s stranglehold but she clings tighter than soap
scum on a shower door.
“Spike can handle it and besides
Xander’s with him. Haven’t you even missed me a little?” Buffy asks with a pout
as she grabs his arm and
Tired of humouring them Angel rips
his arms free and strides in the direction he last saw Spike taking and follows
his nose. After several blocks he hears the sound of fighting and breaks into a
run but the action is over by the time he gets there, Spike is leaping into a
spinning roundhouse kick that breaks the neck of the last Vampire. He lands
with the agile ease of a cat and stalks over to Xander and easily lifts him off
the ground and spins him around checking for wounds. “Ya done good Whelp but
watch the follow through, you’re leaving an opening that’s too big. Snap it
back faster and it will narrow the margin before you recover.” Xander nods and
preens under the praise much to Angel’s shock.
Spike lights a cigarette and after
taking a drag turns on his heel and continues down the street, again without a
word to Angel and Xander nipping at his heels. Angel stifles a growl and stomps
after them. “Buffy send you out for ice cream and videos, Peaches?” Spike
drawls without turning around. He smiles as a low growl is his only answer.
“Xan, why
don’t you head back to the house? You can do a favour for me and keep an eye on
Nibblet and Cub for me eh? The Poof and I will patrol and meet you there and
I’ll teach you a couple of new moves hmm? Make sure they’ve packed what they
need for a few days.” Spike says casually, glancing over his shoulder at angel.
“Seems we’ll be leaving tonight.”
Xander looks at Angel uncertainly but relents
with a sock on Spike’s shoulder. “Sure thing Blondie, I’ll take care of it.” He
says proudly before scampering off.
Once he’s gone Angel picks up his
stride and takes the vacant spot at Spike’s shoulder. After a moment he
casually mentions. “So…new best pal? Never thought I’d see the day Xander was
nice to you…or any Vampire actually.”
“Whelp’s alright he just wants to be
useful and feel like he contributes something. He’s been training for a few
months with me and his fighting skills are getting better. It’s made him feel
better about himself and we’ve worked out most of our differences during our
sparring matches. He reminds me of myself back in the Fledge days.” Spike takes
a drag of his cigarette and exhales the plume of smoke slowly. “So want to fill
me in on the pending Apocalypse. It must be something major if you’re willing
to suffer my presence for any length of time.” Spike smirks. “I think we’ve
managed to avert everything short of a rampaging Hell God. So just point me at ‘em
and lemme go do some damage.”
“You act like you think all you’re
good for is cannon fodder, Spike.” Angel says with a snarl.
Spike shrugs. “They accept me
because I have my uses Angel. I’ve never fooled myself into thinking I’m there
out of the kindness of their hearts. Except for the younglings anyway and maybe
the Whelp, I think they would consider themselves friends of mine.”
“Why the fuck do you stay here if
that’s the case?” Angel asks angrily, grabbing Spike’s shoulder and turning him
to face him.
“No where else to go
“You could have come to me Spike.”
Angel says quietly, tightening his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “We could use more
help in LA you
would be needed there too.” He says quietly.
“You’ve never needed me Angel;
you’ve not only made that readily apparent you’ve actually SAID that on several
occasions. Besides I’m not really built to be a lawyer…built to beat them up
sure but not to work for em. I’m a Vampire, Angel, with or without my soul and
my world is not in a board room. The only good fights I want to fight are the
ones that I can feel, with something tangible I can wrap my hands around. I
don’t want to have to stand back and weigh this decision or that decision on
the great morality seesaw. You taught me long ago Angel that I am disposable.”
“YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN DISPOSABLE
WILLIAM!” Angel realises he’s screaming and makes an effort to reign in his temper.
“If I’m not disposable Angel, why do you continually toss me
aside.” Spike says softly, resuming his patrol while
Angel stares after him.
Angel hurries to catch up. “I’m not
sure how to answer that question…”
“It wasn’t a question Angel so it
doesn’t need an answer. Our past speaks for itself. You left me behind when you
got your shiny new toy of a soul. Leaving me to look after the daft childe YOU
drove mad may I add? A century later it’s the Slayer, then
my lovely ponce of an insane Grandsire pops out for a truly memorable visit and takes Dru for his own personal
bed bunny AGAIN. Then the call of all mighty mission
for the higher powers. You have more concern for how your hair looks than you
do for me Angel. That’s always the way it’s been and it’s the way it will
always be.” Spike says softly. He snaps his arm down and to the side with
almost casual ease as they pass an alley, dusting a comically startled Vampire
with a stake. Spike sweeps the stake up from the dust and tucks it back up into
his sleeve. “Are you going to enlighten me as to why you actually requested my
help or not?”
Before he can answer a loud scream
rips through the night and they take off in a sprint tracking the sound. Angel
almost laughs as old memories resurface and the night air blows through his
hair. As he streaks through the night, his powerful Grand-Childe solidly at his
side as in the days of old, he rejoices. As in times of old, Spike keeps pace
easily, restraining his speed to run in counterpoint with his more solidly
built companion. It is not a conscious decision it is the call of their blood,
their pasts as hunters having ingrained their connection beyond conscious
thought.
At some ingrained moment Spike
accelerates ahead, this has always been his function, the head of the spear,
and he fulfils his function with a roar. He shears into the pack of Vampires
and scatters them neatly into two groups and away from their unfortunate prey.
A glance tells him it’s too late for the poor man so he wades into the group of
Vampires on the left as Angel roars into the group on the right. The fight is
overly fairly quickly, despite their superior numbers the oldest of the
Fledglings can’t be much older than two or three years changed. Spike is
finishing off the last of his half of the group when he sees Angel chasing down
a pair trying to escape. Even as the dust from his last kill settles to the
ground he turns on his heel and chases after Angel.
He comes across a nightmare scene.
Angel backed against the wall by a dozen Vampires, bleeding from several wounds
while a trio of so called “Masters” taunts him. Despite the injuries though
Angel is standing tall and strong and he can’t help but feel the sting of pride
for his powerful Grandsire. He meets the deep brown gaze of his Sire and bows his head in silent
respect, a gesture that seems to surprise him. “Well now this seems to be quite
the party.” He growls twirling a pair of stakes around with skilled ease,
lashing out and 4 fledglings crumble to dust. “Which one of you Tossers is the
leader of this bloodsucking Brady Bunch?” He doesn’t get an immediate answer
and with a seemingly graceful flourish four more minions fall.
“What concern is that of yours?” One
of the many minions growls. It’s the last word he says
as a stake ends his talking days once and for all.
“I do hate to be kept waiting. The
next stake gets YOU, if I don’t get an answer in the next five seconds.”
Spike’s icy gaze locks on one of the arrogant trio of Masters, and he knows
he’s picked correctly by the reaction of the others.
“I am the Sire of this bloodline.”
The man says boldly as he hides behind his two Childer and remaining minions.
“My condolences
Blood Bag.”
Spike drawls lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag he flicks ashes
towards the so called Master. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,
Waste of skin. Easy way; your Childer take the
minions and leave while you stay and answer for spilling the blood of the
Master of the Aurelius order. Or there’s the hard way. Personally I’ve always
adored a good spot of violence. Regardless your existence is forfeit for that.”
He gestures towards Angel with a delicate toss of his head.
“Aurelius…ANGELUS!?!!”
“Very good I see you’ve heard of my Grandsire. I’d leave you to his
utter lack of mercy but then what fun would that be? You are formally
challenged, how do you answer?”
“I would know who issues this
challenge.”
“You can just call me Spike, Tosser.
At least for the few minutes of unlife you’ve got left.”
“WILLIAM THE
BLOODY!
But everyone says there is no love lost between you and Angelus!”
“This isn’t about whether or not
Angelus and I get along. It’s about blood, specifically HIS blood; the same blood that flows in
my veins. You’re going to die; you have only to choose the means of how you
want to meet your final end. I have little trouble just slaughtering you all
like the urchins you are but I am feeling generous. You and I work this out all
private like and I win, you die and my Grandsire is avenged and your Childer will live. Oh forget it you’re not worth the time.” Spike darts forward
driving stakes into the hearts of the Master’s two Childer, as Angel darts
forward to finish off the minions.
Spike grabs the Master as he tries
to dart past him, grabbing him by the neck and holding him aloft easily before
slamming him violently against a wooden telephone pole. A cold smile curves his
lips as a stake appears as if by magic in his hand. “I may let you live if
Angelus wills it worm.” As he suspected the Master tries his best to kiss up to
Angel and Spike quirks his brow and waits for a sign from Angel.
“Let him live.” Angel says finally.
Spike nods and drives the stake
through the Master’s shoulder pinning him to the telephone pole. A second and a
third stake is driven through his body pinning him to the wooden pole like an
exhibit from a macabre butterfly collection. “You have your life, for as long
as it lasts. Bleeding and helpless is never a recipe for a long life on the
Hellmouth. You may of course manage to work your way free before some nasty
takes advantage of the free buffet you represent. Maybe.”
He turns on his heel to face Angel and inclines his head respectfully, smiling
as Angel returns the gesture and walks away.
Spike glances over his shoulder and
waves. “Have fun hanging around.” And strides after Angel in a leisurely
fashion;
whistling.
They’ve gone two blocks when the
screaming reaches their sharp ears and Angel snickers as Spike murmurs, “Sounds like dinner is
served.”
Spike steers Angel into the park and
gently pushes him down onto a bench and pulls a small first aid kit out of his
duster pocket and sets it down.
“Well looks like you’re no real
worse for wear, Mate. Most of these look pretty superficial.” Spike lightly
traces a wound on his forehead with a careful fingertip. He opens the kit and
removes several antiseptic wipe packets but his hand is caught before he can
open one. He lets Angel pull the packets from his hand without resisting, his
eyes widening as a gentle hand cups his head and guides his mouth to one of the
seeping cuts. The scent of the blood causes him to lick his lips and in the
process dragging his tongue across the cut resulting in a low moan from Angel
as he pushes against his mouth. The temptation is just too much and he
hesitates for a second but then his tongue darts out again and again, slowly
drawing it over the cut until the blood stops trickling and the edges seal. He
closes his hands over Angel’s shoulders and turns him and pushes gently until
he’s stretched out on the bench.
Angel sighs and tangles his hand in
Spike’s surprisingly soft hair as his mouth finds each cut and licks it until
it’s clean and the healing has begun. He groans and presses up hard as the
younger vampire’s tongue licks at a small cut just behind his ear, carefully
grabbing a splinter of wood between his teeth and easing it out and spitting it
out. He looks up at that beautifully handsome face so close to his and watches
as his hands frame that same perfection and gently guide it closer until he can
rub his lips gently against that full mouth above his own in a soft and tender
kiss. He moans softly as that talented mouth and tongue sweep into his and curl
caressing around his own tongue for a brief but sweet moment before Spike is
pulling away.
“We should go we still have a bit
more ground to cover before we go.” Spike says quietly as he leans over and picks
up the first aid kit, quickly repacks everything and slips it back into his pocket.
“Thank you. For what you said and
did back in the alley.” Angel says as he accepts Spike’s hand up.
“You’re welcome. It’s been getting a
little dicey around here lately but the challenges are dying down quite a bit.
Back when I had the chip, there were 5 or 6 challenges a week but now that it’s
out most are wiser than to cross me and try and claim the territories I hold.
Just two or three challenges a month is about the standard now. After tonight
though and when word gets out that Angelus was here, I imagine there will be
fewer challenges still.” Spike says with a chuckle and a smirk.
“You should have told me about the
chip Spike. I would have protected you and taken care of you.” Angel says
sadly.
“Peaches, it seems to me there are more
than a few days when you can’t even look after yourself. I was sorry to hear
about your son. It must have about killed you for good to have to give him up.”
Angel stops and Spike pulls ahead
slightly before he can get his feet moving again. “It’s always hard to let go
of a child.” He stares at the back of his head. “I’ll always regret giving up
my childe.”
“Well it’s never too late, Mate.
Maybe you can still get him back some day. Or who knows anything could happen;
he may even come looking for you one day. Love’s a funny thing after all.”
Spike says glancing over his shoulder.
“Yes, I remember a wise man telling me that once
before.” Angel says with a smile as he picks up the pace to pull even with
Spike. “Speaking of children,
tell me about this Andrew you seem to be so fond of? Who is he exactly?”
“Back when that Glory bint was
making her move most of the town cleared out. I was out patrolling one night
and stumbled on the little guy trying to hide in a dumpster. He was beat up
pretty bad and his throat had been savaged, I couldn’t just leave him there so
I took him home. We got him cleaned up and fed and dressed the wounds then we
heard the poor blighter’s story. Seems his parents had run out of town and left
him and his older brother behind. Seems at some point his brother was turned as
a minion and Andrew tried to take care of him. But soon what money they had was
gone and inevitably the older brother turned on him and tried to drain him.
Andrew was able to get away as the sun was still up and tried to hide.” Spike
says with a grimace. “Was a nasty time to be in town and not have any means of
support, was a piss poor time for a lot of things. The witches discussed
perhaps using magic to give Andrew’s brother a soul but I explained that a
minion was likely too weak to be able to ever recover and he would likely be
insane until he either killed himself or someone else did him in.” Angel nods
in understanding. “I took Andrew aside and explained about us and what made a
Vampire and what the difference between minions and such are and asked him what
he wanted to do. He didn’t want his brother to suffer; he wanted him to be
free. Buffy and I took him back to his house and we…helped him to set his
brother free at last. With his folks gone he had no where to go so he ended up
staying. Just as easy to take care of one child as it is two and he’s a right
bright Cub. He and Dawn treat each other like brother and sister.” Spike says
fondly.
Angel admits to being surprised at
how well adjusted Spike seems to be when it comes to living along side humans.
“And how does he feel about you? Given the fact you’re a Vampire too that is.”
Spike chuckles. “Dawn and Buffy call
him Baby Bad.” Angel can’t help but see a miniature Spike clone and he has to
laugh. “Truthfully Angel; and if you ever tell anyone I said this I’ll rip your
tongue out; Andrew will likely be the only Child I’ll ever have, Vampire or
otherwise.” Spike says quietly.
“Why haven’t you ever sired a
Childe, Spike?” Angel asks genuinely interested.
“Dru, despite having sired me was more than a dozen Childer all on her own. It took all my
energy just to keep her alive, I wouldn’t have had time to raise a proper
Childe. Then once Dru wasn’t a factor, I was chipped and then later fought for and won my soul back. I am
considered a traitor by most Demons for siding with the Slayer and humans and hunting my own kind. Any Childer I was to have would inherit that stigma and
their existence would likely be very short. Even with what is left of my
reputation as your Childe to provide some shelter, it is only my age and my
skills that have kept me alive this long. I know that I will never be in the
position to have Childer Angelus.” Spike takes a deep breath and sighs.
Angel can almost cry at the
injustices heaped upon the younger man’s shoulders, no few of them placed there
by his own hand in some way or another. “I’m sorry Spike. I hadn’t truly realised what your life must be
like for you.”
“Yes you have Angel, because it’s been your life as
well. The Childe has followed in the Sire’s footsteps.” Spike stalks ahead as
Angel finds he’s stopped in his tracks at Spike uttering the very words from
his dream. Spike is almost out of sight before Angel realises it and runs to catch up again.
Two hours later the pair makes their
way back to the Summers’ residence; both are sporting the marks of
the night’s effort in the form of blood and bruises. No sooner does the door
open and Spike invites him in, are they ambushed by a flying teenager shaped
projectile. Spike laughs as he’s pushed forward into Angel who has to keep him
from falling.
Angel reluctantly lets Spike go as
he straightens up easily holding the teenager riding his back up.
“Angel, meet my Brat, Andrew.” Spike
says with a laugh. “Andrew this is my Grandsire Angel.”
“Hey
Great-Grandpa Angel.” Andrew says with a smile that bears more than a passing resemblance to
Spike’s smirk. “Pops has told me all about you, Peaches.”
Spike laughs at the look on Angel’s
face as he sets Andrew down on his feet and Angel gets his first real look at
him. He has the same slender but toned build as Spike and his features share
some of the same symmetry. He is dressed in a simple black Metallica concert T-shirt, tucked into black jeans
over black boots. His dark hair is slicked with gel on the side but the top is
left to wave naturally causing a lock of hair to fall over one of his eyes.
Angel laughs as he recalls Dawn and Buffy’s pet name for the young teenager and
pats his shoulder with approval which earns him a beaming smile.
Spike smiles as his Grandsire seems
to approve of his mini-me of a Brat. “Okay I seriously need to get cleaned up.” Spike
says with a grimace of distaste at the drying demon blood on him. “Did you
bring a change of clothes, Peaches?”
“I always keep a small bag packed
and ready in all my cars. Demons never appreciate my clothes.” Angel says with
disgust and everyone laughs.
“Why don’t you fetch it then? We can
get cleaned up down in the basement bathroom.” Angel nods and heads out to his
car, he’s back
with a small suitcase and Spike
waves for him to follow him as he ruffles Andrew’s hair affectionately.
“Why don’t you go first you seem to
have gotten the worst of it on you?” Angel offers; “I can probably make do washing up in the
sink.” Spike nods gratefully and
peels his black T-shirt over his
head and tosses it into a laundry basket a few feet away. Angel gasps when he
sees the faint tracings of what must have been hideously painful scars at one
time. “What happened?!”
“The Trials can be…difficult. In a
few years I imagine the marks will fade altogether. Until then, they can just be my badge of
courage.” Spike says with a distant not altogether pleasant look in his eyes.
Angel’s eyes widen comically; as
Spike toes off his boots and nonchalantly slips out of his clothing with no
regard for his presence at all and pads into the bathroom to start the shower.
After a few seconds Angel laughs and does the same, laughing at his sudden streak
of modesty choosing to focus on his first glimpse of the perfection that is
Spike, in many years.
Within the hour a very pleased Angel
is rocketing back to LA carrying his beautiful Childe and their two young charges and he smiles
as it almost feels like he has a family once more.
TBC
In Part Two: Angel realises that he’s been a fool
and his perfect mate has been at his side all along, he was just too blind to
realize it. In that moment of shared joy Angel and Angelus merge into one being
and they are determined to prove to their mate that this time things will be
different. Very different.