Title: Carry On, Part Five � Never Tell
Author: Inca
It�s feeding time at [email protected]
Rating NC 17
Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like to play with them
Spoilers: Up to 5.22 �Not Fade Away�
Summary: Without a past, who are you?
Dedicated to: Forging Ghost, my ever loving list Dad! *Mwah*
Authors notes: Robert Service delivered the title, which is also the title of his poem. I thought of it when I read the transcript for �Not Fade Away�.
Italics indicate something that�s happened in the past.
Angel�s direct thoughts indicated by a tab space.
~~~
Brace up for another attack.
It�s looking like hell, but � you never tell.
Part Five � Never Tell
***
The last of the demon attackers were jumping into a portal just outside the Wolfram and Hart building when Angel, Spike and Illyria arrived. The portal snapped shut.
�They have fled. They fear us.� Illyria observed.
�Yep, we won.� Spike grinned.
�Don�t celebrate just yet.� Angel cautioned. With the roar of the battle gone, the silence of the town really struck them. No wind, no animals, no movement � at all.
�The calm before the storm?� Spike asked quietly.
�Maybe.�
Rieff ran up. �Are you ready?� he asked, holding up his sword.
�Hold back. Secure the outside of the building, if anything else comes out of there, I don�t it reaching anyone.� Angel instructed. �They�re defenceless.�
Rieff nodded. �And you?�
He looked back at Spike, a cut on his leg causing blood to dye his jeans, and Illyria with her vacant eyes.
�We�re going inside.�
They stepped away from Rieff and walked up to the imposing building. The electronic doors pinged open immediately. They entered the wide, spacious lobby, and found it empty.
�Maybe they left too?� Spike asked.
Suddenly, a huge crackle of energy boomed overhead, forcing them all to cover their ears. They are looked up to see a huge vortex spinning above them, howling as streaks of lighting coursed through the swirl. A guttural growl echoed through the lobby.
�I guess not.� Spike said, lifting the sword.
***
Angel opened his eyes, then squinted them shut against the stinging light.
Ow � my head � whats �?
SCCHINNGG�
Angel frowned weakly, his brain pulsating. The whole back of his head radiated pain; sharp splinters of burning metal itched at his head, snaking down to his shoulders. He was lying flat on his back in his bed; the soft sheets pulled up around him.
SCCHINNGG�
A metallic noise sliced through the air every couple of seconds, causing blooms of colour pain to blossom and dance behind Angel�s eyelids.
SCCHINNGG�
He groaned.
The metallic clamour ceased.
�You�re awake.� Spike�s voice stated.
Angel opened his eyelids, allowing only a sliver of piercing light to reach his eyes. His eyelashes blocked most of the light. He was squinting at the ceiling.
�You alright?� Spike�s voice asked.
Angel rolled his head slowly towards the voice. Spike was sitting on thew floor, his back leaning against the wall. Jean clad legs spread in a wide v; he balanced a katana on one thigh and rested a whetstone against the other. He watched Angel for a few moments before dragging the sword along the whetstone, creating the loud metallic SCCHINNGG sound. He rested the sword against his thigh again and lifted his eyes to meet Angel�s.
SCCHINNGG�
�Could you stop doing that?� Angel grumbled, closing his eyes as the nausea caused by talking, span the room.
�Bit of a headache, eh?� A wide grin filled his face.
�Bit.�
He heard Spike shift the sword aside and move over to him. The bed sunk as he sat and a moment later Angel felt cold fingers on his face. He jerked his head away; opening his eyes in offence as his brain weaved.
�What are you doing?� He asked, the room still tilting behind Spike�s pale face. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to vomit.
�You�ve got a rip in your face, I was looking at it.�
�A rip?� He reached up to investigate and felt a large raised, rough line running down his right cheek. He nudged it and new pain seared his face.
�Ow.� He complained.
�Well no one told you to go poking at it. Cor.�
He felt Spike�s fingers gently tilting his head to get a look at the cut, moving around the wound but not enough to hurt.
�How did it happen?� Angel asked.
The fingers stilled.
�Don�t remember?�
�Ah, me darling, it�s not about mercy. It�s an experience. Tell me, do you believe in God?�
Angel shuddered.
�Not that.�
�What do you remember?� the fingers left his face, but he could feel puffs of air on his face when he spoke.
Angel was silent.
�So,� Spike continued, interested, �do you remember anything before last week?�
�No, but � � Angel stopped.
�But? Little memories?�
�My beautiful William.�
�Yes.�
�You cut yourself when you fell,� Spike said, answering Angel�s earlier question, �Against the table corner. Deep, but healing.�
The weight on the bed shifted as Spike sat up straight, but he didn�t leave.
�Is that why my head hurts?�
A heavy moment passed. �Could be.�
�It really hurts.�
�We don�t have any aspirin, Gunn took the last of it before he left.�
�Could you get me some?� he asked sickly.
�It�s dusk, pet. Shops are closed.�
Angel made a pained face, eyes still closed. His body felt like it tied with weights and his head was on fire.
Spike shifted. �I could get�� he started.
The weight lifted from the mattress, and Angel could hear Spikes booted footsteps walking across the carpeted floor. The clink of glass sounded from across the hall, and then Spike returned to the bedroom. He set something on the bedside table, and then the soft, tinkling sound of liquid pouring soothed the room.
�What are you doing?� He murmured, rolling his head towards the sound but unwilling to open his oversensitive eyes.
�Headache remedy. Usually for hangovers, but it should work.�
Curiosity prevailed and Angel parted his eyelids, feebly wincing at the light. Spike was refastening the screw top to a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a glass filled with amber was on the table.
�Alcohol, I remember.�
�Terrible thing to forget.� Spike set the bottle down and leant forward, wrapping his hands around either side of Angel�s t-shirted waist. He pulled him up into a sitting position, padding the headboard with pillows.
Pain and nausea fought for dominance in Angel�s head, and the dim light in the room swelled painfully.
�Watch it.� He growled.
�Don�t be a poofter.� Spike spat back, his face twisting as he tried to hold off a smirk.
�You like hurting me.� Angel sulked.
The grin broke out on Spike�s face. �Not really.�
�Don�t lie. And turn off the lights.�
�Its as dim as it will go.� He answered, holding out the drink.
�Not dim, Off.� He corrected.
Spike rolled his eyes, shoved the drink into Angel�s hand and he obligingly walked over to the door, flicking the light switch off.
The dark blue grey of dusk washed over the room, cooling and soft, the sun hidden behind the tall L.A. buildings. Angel looked to see the grey shrouded over Spike, bleaching out the little colour in his face that he had, frosting his skin and turning it to ice. His skin looked like marble, perfect and luminous and his eyes shimmered, the colour of the stormy sky.
�Happy?�
Angel nodded; Spike stayed still, simply watching Angel sip his Daniels in the dark room.
�You just gonna watch me?�
�Yes.� Spike answered, expressionless.
He was standing in a barn. It was cold; the blue grey light of dusk flittered down from the high windows. He turned his head and he could see Spike, Will, dressed in a golden waistcoat and breeches, standing in the shadows, looking out through a crack in the wall, fiery hair covering his face.
�Do you think they know we�re here?� he asked nervously, peering out.
�Not a chance, boy.�
�Should we run?� He asked, turning his wide, stormy blue eyes towards him.
�No, I think we should wait. Until tomorrow. The chase will have lost its meaning by then.�
He looked doubtful. �You killed six women. And left them in the square.� He reminded.
�Not all I did to them� He answered, grinning. Spike averted his eyes.
�Tomorrow?� Spike asked, changing the subject.
He sat down on a bale of hay, taking off his own long coat and flinging it over a railing. Spike peered out through the ramshackle wall.
�William.�
Spike turned his head slightly, but a noise from without drew his attention and he peered through the wall again. He felt suddenly affronted and ignored, and he stood, walking over to Spike.
�William.� He said again, growling into the man�s ear. He grabbed the strands of red hair in his fist, delighting in the surprised pain that washed over Spike�s face.
�Ah! Angelu ��
He shook his hand, causing Spike�s body to fling from side to side.
�Ow! Please! Oh, Ow, Please!�
He opened his hand and Spike reached up to his head with a grumpy look on his face. He looked down at his hand and saw strands of brown clinging to his palm. He shook them aside.
�Bad Will. Bad.� He said like he was scolding a dog, and grinning evilly, he stepped forward to wrap the smaller man in his arms.
Spike stood in the embrace, sulking, avoiding his eyes, just simply tolerating the hug.
�There was a time when you would�ve killed for this affection.� He mused.
�That�s before I realised it meant nothing.� He looked down at the man in surprise, to see his jaw clenched, eyes resolutely staring away.
�Nothing? Nothing! Will-pet, do you think I do this to anyone else?� He tenderly rubbed his hands up and down Spike�s back.
�If you knew that�s what the wanted. You�d do it till they fell, then you�d use it against them. Just like you do to me.� Spike stared up at him, eyes angry, �Don�t think I don�t know how you play. Dru wanted you to be her god, and you were, for a time. Now you only give her a little, just to keep her obsession going, never enough to appease her.�
He dropped the hug, stepping back, face blank and expressionless.
�And you?�
�You pretend.�
He was starting to enjoy this. �Pretend what?�
Spike looked away, lips pursed. �To care.�
�And then I took it away?�
�And now you just play with me.�
He leant back against a stall, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly unaffected by the discussion, unmoved by Spike�s confessions.
� So Willy, what is it you think you�re going to do?� he asked conversationally.
�I could leave. What would you do then?� The blue eyes flashed defiantly.
He shrugged. �Find someone new. Hold them, look after them, watch over them and cover them with kisses every night.� He stood tall before Spike. �Everything you want. Could you live with that? Knowing that someone else would receive?�
Spike looked up at him, to the barn door and back again.
�Why?� he asked, confused and frustrated.
�To spite you.� He laughed.
�Why do you do this?� He pleaded, trying to understand.
�Because I enjoy it. It amuses me. Your love amuses me. Are you leaving?�
Spike looked towards the door sadly.
�Angelu ��
�Are � you � leaving?� He asked, a growl tinging his voice. He stared Spike down.
His blue eyes were tired, drained. He shook his head.
�Good. Then, come here boy.�
Spike stepped towards him slowly. He stood still and allowed his hands to run over him gently. He slipped his hands under Spike�s coat and massaged his shoulders through his light shirt. The blue eyes blinked, searching his face. He slipped his hands over the shoulders, pushing the coat off. Spike sighed as the coat fell to the floor.
�Good.� He said, staring into the wet grey eyes, relishing every flavour of the effect he had on the boy, knowing he could hurt him so deeply.
�Willy?� he asked softly.
Spike stared up at him, wide eyes blinking furiously. �Yes?�
�Kiss me. Kiss me the way you wish I would.� Spike closed his eyes, eyelashes growing wet. �Kiss me the way I�ll never kiss you.�
He grinned as Spike leant forward.
�Here, more.�
Angel stared up at Spike pouring out the Daniels into his glass.
Will? Was that Spike human? He didn�t seem human, but he acted �Why was he �? No it couldn�t �
Questions crowded Angel�s head as the memory he just had, started to play over reality. William�s red hair falling in his face as he poured out the Daniels in the cream coloured room, instead off Spike�s slick blond.
The same blue eyes flicked to him. �Wha�?�
�Thankyou.�
�S�Alright.� He put the bottle back on the table and sat on the bed again. Angel sipped, his headache slowly dissipating, as Spike lightly tapped a beat out on his knees. Angel�s belly was warming from the alcohol, while his mind was growing fuzzy.
�Spike?�
Spike raised his eyebrows, ceasing the beat. �Yeah?�
�I wasn�t very nice to you, was I?�
Spike frowned, confused for a moment, before the thought settled.
�No.� He looked away. �You weren�t.�
�I�m sorry.�
�Wasn�t you.� Spike looked at him out of the corner of his eye. �What do you remember � exactly?�
Angel fixed his gaze on the curtains. �Not much.�
�Well � was a while ago.�
�Why do you do this?� Spike�s voice echoed in his head. �Because I enjoy it. It amuses me. Your love amuses me.�
�I am sorry.�
Spike rolled his eyes, standing up. �You said that.�
�Well I am.�
�What does it matter? What does it even count coming from you, you don�t even know what you�re apologising for!� Spike snapped �Don�t even know who you are, so don�t apologise to make yourself feel better, just �cause you�re getting a few memories that don�t quite fit your view of yourself.�
�I�m not apologising cause I know what I did,� Angel argued. �I think you need to hear it.�
�From your mouth? Just cause someone looks the same doesn�t mean they are. You�re just a fake Angel.�
�From what you�ve been saying, I�m the same person, my memories are just locked up.� Angel pointed out.
�Well until you unlock them pet? You ain�t you. Nobody is anything without their past, and you don�t have one.�
Angel stared out the window.
Is that true? Without a past, who are you?
��sides didn�t mean anything. Vampires, as you might remember some day, ain�t exactly the nicest things around. No souls, no feelings.�
Angel turned his gaze back to the man, who was standing in the centre of the room, arms crossed in his tight black shirt.
He stared hard at him for a moment. �I don�t believe you.�
Spike looked down at him, glaring hate. �Do you think I give a fuckin� toss what you think? Believe whad you want."
He walked across the room and into his own, slamming the door. A moment later loud music erupted from behind the door.
Angel got up, stumbling across the floor. His head felt better, if a little foggy. He knocked on the door.
�Spike?�
�Piss off Angel! Go to sleep!�
�I don�t want to sleep, I want to talk to you.�
Spike swung the door open. �Well that�s a fucking first.� He slammed it closed again, but Angel stopped it with an outstretched hand.
�Spike!� He growled, surprising himself.
You sound like you in your memories. Practical Sensible calmly observed.
Spike spun around at the growl, eyes golden and forehead furrowed. He slowly stepped up to Angel and backhanded him clean across the face, knocking him to the ground. He stepped over him and out into the hall. Angel stood, and reached out, grabbing onto Spike�s arm.
�Spike!�
Spike span around and pushed Angel back, slamming him against the wall. He held him there, hand against his throat, for a few moments, blue gaze to brown, before stepping up against him. He wrapped one hand around the back of Angel�s neck, and pulled him down into a frenzied kiss, the other hand reaching up to tangle in the hair behind Angel�s ear. With his lips hard up against Angel�s, he opened his mouth, dragging the older vampires lips open with the move. He swept his tongue in fiercely, tasting the sting of the JD in Angel�s mouth, licking across his teeth, over the roof of his mouth. Angel kissed back just as needy, swallowing Spike�s tongue, and placing sharp little bites on the lips pressed against his own.
Angel grabbed Spike�s hips and whirled them so Spike was against the wall. He shoved his knee into the plaster and pushed Spike up, so that only his toes were touching the ground as he straddled Angel�s thigh. It was all so familiar. Angel reached up and tilted Spike�s jaw up, revealing the perfect vulnerable lines of his neck. He leant and licked up, long swipes of his tongue and small sucks as Spike groaned and rambled above him.
He ran his hands under Spike�s shirt, pulling it out of his jeans, and found his nipples, pinching and twisting them lightly.
Spike grabbed Angel�s hair around the back of his head causing him to hiss at the pain. Spike shook his head and looked down at him, his huge eyes the colour of rain-washed metal.
�You.� He panted. �How do you do this to me?� he asked, guileless eyes wide, pink lips wet and puffy.
A door slammed below them.
�Spike?� Gunn�s voice yelled. �Yo my white brother, where are you?�
Spike pushed Angel away from him, �Yeah, up here. What did you find?�
Steps echoed as Gunn made his way up the stairs.
�Oh a few leads, but that�s not important. What�s important is that I spent my last night with a long haired tahitian �� he stopped when he saw Angel.
�Hey Angel.� He then frowned, �What happened to your face?�
Silence fell on the three, and Gunn raised his eyebrows in confusion.
�I fell.� Angel said quietly after a moment.
�Okay,� Gunn peered at him, and then at Spike, �Bad fall, I guess.�
Angel was looking at Spike, but the blonde was staring straight at Gunn.
�Name?� Spike asked, breaking the uncomfortable moment.
�Naveeta.� Gunn breathed happily.
Spike scrunched up his face.
�Well it sounds a lot prettier coming from her.� Gunn said, defensively. �So you wanna see pictures?�
Spike leered, wiggling his brow.
�Not of that! Pig. Of the island.�
�Sure. Never seen it in sunlight.�
�Angel, you in?�
�Angel was just going to bed.� Spike said. �Been a bit tired lately.�
Angel stared at him.
�Figures. Body�s getting used to it all.�
�Yeah.� Angel said uncertainly.
�You remember anything yet?� Gunn asked hopefully.
�Little bits.�
He grinned, showing huge white teeth. �That�s great!�
�Fantastic.� Angel deadpanned.
�Okay, well you sleep and I�ll see you tomorrow.� Gunn nodded happily.
�Sure.� Angel answered, looking at Spike one more time. The blonde�s face was expressionless.
��night.� Spike said.
Angel walked away from the two men, confused and hurt.
What was that? Why did Spike � why did we �
He entered the room closing the door behind him and lay back down on his bed. He wasn�t tired. He was achingly hard and bewildered, but not tired. He grabbed the waist of his sweats and arched his back, pulling them off. He wrenched the covers up and then reached shyly down dragging his hand along the length of his hard on. All he could see behind his closed eyelids was Spike, panting and puffy lipped, metal blue eyes glistening. He imagined Spike�s pale hand as he stroked, imagined marble-white, long, tapered fingers wrapping gently around his hard flesh.
�You� � �How do you do this to me?�