Runaways ~ NC17 ~ Liam/Spike (William) ~ AU Human ~ Chapter 11
Title: Runaways
Authors: angelspike69 and anamcara420
Pairing: Liam/Spike (William)
Rating: Adult. This story contains M/M sex. If that isn’t your cup of tea then go away now and don’t read any farther.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Angel and Spike don’t belong to us. If they did, they’d be following up all their fighting and snarking with each other with lots of manly shagging.
Spoilers: No spoilers at all as this is a story that takes place in an alternate universe where our boys are totally human and have never been vampires. We’re not even sure if they believe in them.
Feedback: AngelSpike69 and Anamcara420
Notes: Would like to extend our sincere thanks to makd for her beta of our story. You are the best sweetie!!!!! Previous chapters can be found in my memories here or in our archive here.
Summary: Two damaged young men meet by chance in the woods in Vermont. Through conflict and kindness and the special magic of Christmas, they stop running from their pasts and help each other to heal.
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Chapter 11
The jarring ring of the telephone awakened Liam. He eased away from Spike, who was still sleeping in the crook of his neck. The phone kept ringing. Liam hurried out to answer the phone. It was early - not even seven o’clock. As he lifted the phone, he realized he was naked and struggled to cover himself with the blanket from the sofa.
“Hello?”
“Liam. It’s Sister Margaret - your Aunt Margaret.” A soft voice replied.
Liam was stunned. Something had to be wrong. He had spoken to his aunt only a few times since his mother - her sister - had died. “Hello," he said tentatively.
“Liam, your father is dead. He died last week.”
“Oh.” Liam felt very little sadness. His father had not spoken to him since he moved in with David, years ago. But, it was his father. “When is the funeral?”
There was silence. “Aunt Margaret?”
“He’s already been buried, Liam. He…he didn’t want you there. I’m so sorry.” She answered quietly. “He’d been ill for several months and I tried to…”
“That’s okay. I know I broke my parents’ hearts and he blamed me for my mother’s death.” Liam gripped the phone tightly, old memories stomping to the front of his mind.
“Liam, your father was wrong. My sister had heart problems when she was a young woman. You had nothing to do with her death. Your father was a powerful man and he expected every one to measure up to his standards. He…I’m sorry I shouldn’t…”
“It’s okay, Aunt Margaret. But if the funeral’s over, why are you calling me?”
“The will is going to be read.”
Liam laughed bitterly. “I won’t be mentioned.”
“You were in your mother’s and your grandmother’s wills but he kept them from you. You should come, Liam. There are things your mother and grandmother wanted you to have.”
Liam said nothing for a few minutes. He hadn’t been back to his childhood home since he and David moved in together. He would like to have a few pieces of furniture that belonged to his mother and grandmother for remembrance.
He vividly remembered his last visit to his parents' house. His father hit him and said horrible things to him. His mother intervened, but Liam stormed out. He loved his mother but she would never cross his father, not even for her own son. She never came to see him after he began to live with David, although she called a few times. And then she died. After her death, his grandmother came to his apartment to tell him; he cried in her arms. His father never even called to tell him.
“Liam?” His aunt’s voice pierced his reverie. “Will you come? Your father had a…woman friend. She…You really should come.”
“Okay. When?”
“Saturday afternoon. We’ll meet at the house. Call when you get to the hotel. We should meet by noon to give us enough time.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling, Aunt Margaret. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“God bless, Liam.” She answered softly, and hung up.
Liam stood for several minutes clutching the buzzing phone. Mac nudged his leg. He put down the phone and let the dog outside. Without thinking, moving like a robot, he put out food for the dog and Bella; his mind was awash with memories. Happy memories from his childhood were crowded out by his final visit home. He saw his father’s furious face and his angry words screamed in his head. Pervert. Whore. Fag. “I never want to see your vile, disgusting face again. After all we’ve done for you. You deviant. Hurt yourself playing football…A man’s game. Queer. I’ll see that your…that he never gets another contract. I have friends! Get out of my sight. Get out!
Mac barked, and tore him out of his reverie. He let the dog in, and then stumbled to the sofa. He lowered his head and sobbed. Sobbed for all of the lost years. For his mother’s sudden death…the loss of his grandmother and…David. He had no idea how long he sat until he heard Spike’s voice as he hurried over to him. “Liam…what’s wrong? What happened?”
Liam looked up and Spike gasped at his flushed, tear-streaked face. Spike knelt in front of him and put his hands on his cheeks. “Tell me…how…how can I help?” Spike begged.
Liam looked at the man who now filled his life and sighed. “My father died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Liam.”
“He’s already buried…didn’t want his deviant son at his funeral.” Liam said in a harsh voice.
Spike froze at the word deviant and took his hands from Liam’s face. Liam quickly grasped Spike’s slender hands. “My father called me that because I was with David. I told you he threw me out. I never saw him or my mother again.”
“Someone called you?” Spike asked. “What did they want?”
“My aunt - my mother’s sister. She’s a nun.”
“A nun!” Spike eyes were wide with shock and Liam felt his heart flutter at the look of innocent wonder on his beautiful face.
“She wear one of those long black dresses and her head is under some veil thing?” Spike asked, totally incredulous. He thought nuns were locked in their convents with no phones.
Liam’s sad face brightened a bit into a lopsided smile and he squeezed Spike’s fingers. “Not today. My aunt wears a gray suit and no veil.”
“How do you know she’s a nun?”
“Well, she wears a large cross over her blouse. Somehow even without the habit, she looks like a nun. You’ll see.” Liam replied.
“What d’ya mean I’ll see?” Spike demanded.
Liam pulled Spike up from his knees and motioned for him to sit next to him. “She called to tell me that I have to go down to New York on Saturday. My mother wanted me to have some of her things, but my father wouldn’t tell me. It’s in her will, apparently.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll be okay here by myself.” Spike said quietly.
“Spike, I want you to come with me. I’m going to drive down. It’ll take five hours.”
Spike didn’t answer but he looked intently at Liam. “Sure ya want me to go? Will the nun care?”
“Aunt Margaret is…well, I met her for lunch shortly after I moved in with David. She just wanted me to be happy. She told me my mother did too, but she couldn’t stand up to my father.”
“Okay. Never been to New York.” Spike said.
"Well, it’s not New York City. It’s in the suburbs. We’ll see how things go. Maybe we could go into the city. See a play.” Suddenly his body stiffened and he drew back. Memories clawed their way from the recesses of his mind: The Nutcracker with his mother at Christmas. Theatre evenings with David. Formal parties at the Warwick Hotel. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Carriage rides in Central Park. Yankee games…the Jets. Spike’s animated voice dragged him back to the present.
“I saw the website for the Metropolitan Museum and I read about Greenwich Village; lots of authors lived there and Andy Warhol.” Spike said. The sixties icon fascinated him. He couldn’t believe that paintings of soup cans would be considered art.
Liam spoke tentatively. “We’ll…we’ll see. We’ll leave Friday afternoon. We have to stay in New Rochelle. There’s no hotel in the village.”
“Village?”
Liam smiled slightly although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Larchmont is a village, not a town. It’s very small - not more than a mile. It’s on Long Island Sound. There’s a beach.”
Spike’s stomach growled and Liam looked over at him. “I’m not really hungry. Can you get breakfast for yourself?”
“Sure.”
Liam stood up, still clutching the blanket to him. “I’m going to shower.”
Spike watched him leave the room. Liam’s whole body seemed sad. He walked slowly, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered.
*************************
Liam drove Spike to work. There was little conversation between them; Liam seemed distracted and distant. He dropped Spike off and didn’t go into the store to talk with John and Amy as he usually did.
“You goin’ back to the cabin?” Spike asked.
“Yeah.” Liam replied. He didn’t smile, just turned his head and drove away. Spike stared after the truck, biting his lips in concern. He could understand Liam being sad, but he hadn’t seen his father in years. Something else was going on. When he entered the store, John and Amy knew immediately something was wrong. His demeanor was totally off. No grin on his face and he walked slowly, instead of his usual quick lope. He told John and Amy that Liam’s father had died.
“Oh, he never mentioned family.” Amy said.
“They…he…he and his da hadn’t spoken in a long time. His mum died years ago.” Spike replied. He paused and his forehead wrinkled into a frown. “I think…”
“What, Spike?” John asked.
“He’s…he’s more than sad.” Spike looked up at the couple. He knew they cared about Liam and he didn’t know what to do. “I’m worried.”
“I’ll call Doc Clayton.” Amy said. “Is he going home?”
“He said he was.”
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A few hours later, the doctor arrived. He nodded to Spike, John and Amy and looked around to see if anyone else was in the store.
“What’s wrong?” Spike asked. The doctor face was serious.
“Liam…” He paused and Spike’s stomach cramped in fear. The doctor began again. “People deal with death in different ways. I think there’s more going on with Liam than just his father’s death.”
“I knew it. I’ve gotta go home.” Spike said.
“No. Liam wants you to stay here for now. You’re supposed to go to Ann’s today, right?” The doctor asked.
Spike’s heart trembled. “He doesn’t want me…?”
“He just needs to be by himself for a bit. He needs some time.” The doctor said.
“Spike, stay with us for dinner and then go to Ann’s. We’ll drive you home later.” Amy said. She wanted to hug the younger man, but wasn’t sure how he’d respond.
Spike looked at the three adults. They knew he was hurt that Liam didn’t want him to come back to the cabin. The doctor walked over and stood directly in front of him. “Spike, do you know why he and his father were estranged?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m not asking you to reveal a confidence. It just helps me to know. I’ve never seen him like this.” The doctor replied.
“Like what! What’s wrong? I’ve got to go home. He shouldn’t be by himself!” Spike’s voice grew louder and more strident with each sentence.
The doctor put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “His affect…he’s very sad and not responsive. I’ve given him something to help calm him; help him sleep. I called Tom and he brought Mrs. Jenkins over. She’s sitting with him.”
Spike’s eyes were wild. “Something to make him sleep? I need to go home!”
“Not right now, Spike.” The doctor said authoritatively. “He needs quiet.”
Spike glared at the doctor and stomped to the other side of the store. He was terrified and angry. I’ll just leave. I’ll walk home. I’ve gotta see him. Why’s he pushing me away? I thought… Furious tears sprung into his eyes. He doesn’t want me there. Lies, always lies. He remembered Liam’s tender touches and another piece of his heart broke. He thought they were growing closer. He thought…Damn him…bloody good actor, Liam…you are a sodding stupid idjit, William!
He jumped and spun around when he felt a hand on his arm. Amy was looking at him with concern. “Spike, I know you’re hurt, but…sometimes people need to be alone when they’re struggling with something.”
“But…” Spike interrupted.
Amy sighed and continued in a soft voice. “Spike. I had a baby, and he died. He was three months old. When I went to check on him, he was dead.” Her voice broke. “I sat in the rocking chair by his bed for weeks. Couldn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t talk to John. Doc Clayton took me to talk to a…a grief counselor…a psychiatrist. I dealt slowly with the guilt and sorrow. It was ten years ago, but it still haunts me. I can’t look at a baby without a piece of my heart breaking.
"I don’t know why Liam is suffering. I do know that if the doc thinks he should be alone for a while, you need to believe him…and don’t think it’s you. I loved John with my whole heart and I kept him away.”
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Spike worked in a fog for the rest of the day. His anger had dissipated, replaced by worry and fear. Ann called to tell him he could take the test another time.
“May as well take it now, Ann. Won’t pass it later. I know nothin’ about History, ‘specially American.”
He had dinner with John and Amy although none of them ate very much. Spike wasn't even tempted by the chocolate cake that Amy offered. John tried to keep the conversation going with anecdotes about various customers and delivery men, but Spike paid little attention. His mind was on the man alone in the cabin in the woods a mile away.
Spike took the history test and as he suspected, he failed. That would be one of the subjects he would have to work on to pass the final GED test. He was surprised when the sheriff arrived to take him home. He worried that he’d have to stay in town overnight. He needed to see Liam…to be there to…watch over him, to feed Mac and Bella. He needed to be home!
The sheriff tried unsuccessfully to engage Spike in conversation. The younger man answered in monosyllables and clenched and reclenched his hands. When the car stopped, he bounded out and raced up the steps. Tom followed him into the house. Liam was sitting on the sofa, watching television. He gripped a large photo album on his lap and several others lay open on the floor. Mac lay across his feet and Bella curled next to him. Spike stood stiffly behind the sofa and stared at the television. Images of a tall, blonde man walking, smiling and talking in a sunny city flitted across the screen.
“Liam.” The sheriff broke the silence and walked over to stand before him. Liam looked up. “You need anything?”
“No…no, thanks, Tom.” He answered and turned back to the television.
Tom was concerned. Liam was distracted and Spike was rigid with anger, his pale face flushed deep red, his hands balled into tight fists. He said good night and left, but he called the doctor on his cell phone.
The DVD ended and Liam stood up. Spike shifted and Liam turned around. He blinked as if surprised to see him there. “Hi…did you…did Tom bring you back? I didn’t know you were there,” he said vacantly as he turned back around. He walked over to flick off the TV and eject the DVD.
“Guess not.” Spike answered coldly. “Been standin’ here for a while. That David?”
“Um…yeah. We were in Rome before…before he got sick.” Liam answered quietly. He sat back on the sofa.
“Those pictures of him too?” Spike asked, his voice strained by his blooming anger.
“Um…this one.” He pointed to the one on his lap. “These…these are when I was little.”
Spike’s shoulders grew less stiff. “Can I see…like to see what you looked like when you were a kid.”
Liam nodded and Spike sat next to him on the sofa. Long into the night, Spike listened to Liam haltingly describing the pictures in the photo albums. Sometimes he would just trail off and rub his finger over a picture. When Spike prodded, he would continue in a whisper. Spike saw pictures of Liam as a happy little boy and as a football player flanked by his grinning parents. In the later albums, the parents were absent. An elderly lady was in some pictures, but the focus was the tall blonde man…David…and Liam. They traveled to many places: jungles, beaches, and many, many cities. There were pictures of them on a large, white sailboat; in tuxedos at fancy parties. In every one of them Liam was grinning, smiling, and beaming.
Liam closed the last album and turned to Spike, tears spilling from his deep brown eyes. “I…I needed to remember…when…he loved me…when my father loved me.” Liam fell against Spike and sobbed. Spike held him and stroked his hand up and down his back, his own tears falling into Liam’s dark hair. Eventually the two men slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Liam opened his eyes and stared into Spike’s sleeping face. Spike’s slender arms embraced his large body. His eyes filled with tears. He had pushed Spike away. He had hurt the most important person in his life. He pulled back carefully hoping to escape without waking him, but as soon as he moved, Spike opened his eyes.
“Am I crushing you?” Liam asked.
Spike blinked and smiled. “Yeah, a bit.”
Liam drew away. “Spike…I’m sorry…”
“No worries…” Spike began but stopped and his blue eyes blazed. “I was scared something happened to you! They wouldn’t let me come home!”
Liam lowered his head. “I’m sorry…I was…I’m sorry I hurt you…just had…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Liam…I thought…thought we were…friends.” Spike said softly. “Friends look out for each other, yeah?”
Liam looked up at Spike’s troubled face. The anger was gone from his beautiful blue eyes; replaced by sadness. Liam spoke quietly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Spike’s hand. “I’m sorry…I…fell apart…I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Why? You saw me…crying, scared, sick.” Spike’s voice was thick and he frantically blinked his eyes to keep the moisture from spilling out.
“Sometimes…” Liam sighed and looked away from Spike. “I…I finally got myself together after…David. I was a mess. I’d stay in bed for days…unable to get up. All the pain from my father’s rejection…the guilt because my mother died came rushing back. It took me years to stop falling apart when I thought of…my past. I thought I was…I thought I was strong…and then…my father died and he didn’t want me at his funeral. He hated me from the grave!” He looked at Spike, who was watching him intently, his forehead creased with anxiety. “And all the hurt came back…and I collapsed…again.”
He touched Spike’s face. “I’m sorry if I hurt you…I wasn’t thinking…I was remembering.”
“You know my past haunts me, Liam. You’ve seen me when my nightmares…I…I could have helped you.” Spike said quietly, his hurt visible on his face.
Liam swallowed, lowered his head and sat silently for a few minutes. He felt Spike stiffen beside him and he looked up. “I…I had hardened my heart…didn’t want it to ever be hurt like that again and then…I found you and…you forced your way into my heart…and…and I keep waiting for you to leave.”
Spike’s anger flared. “Leave! Think I’m gonna run out on ya? I’m a runaway, yeah?”
Liam reached for his hand. “Spike…you’re young…the island…most of the young people leave…go away to school and…they don’t come back. Why would you stay?”
“Why would I stay?” Spike shouted and snatched his hand away. He glared at Liam. “You’re bloody…sodding stupid, Liam, even with your college degree! I want to be with you!” He stood up suddenly and stomped away from the sofa. He spun around to face Liam, fury etched on his pale skin. Suddenly his anger disappeared and tears flowed down his cheeks as he spoke. “I want to be with you! You…these people…everyone cares about each other. You…they…when I was in the hospital…Thanksgiving, Christmas…I never…Never sat a dinner table with everyone…like that. There’s so much…kindness…happiness…I…I belong somewhere and people…know my name…all because of you…why would I leave you?” He sank to his knees. Liam rushed over and knelt in front of him. He enveloped Spike in his arms and they clung to each other for a long time.
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The next afternoon, Friday, Doc Clayton brought Mrs. Jenkins over to get Mac and Bella. Mac bounded into the car, but Spike carried Bella wrapped in Liam’s robe. “She can smell the both of us. Maybe she won’t be as upset.” Spike said.
“Mac will be with her. She’ll miss you but she’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Spike.” Mrs. Jenkins got into the car and Spike gently placed the robed cat on her lap.
Bella meowed plaintively and he petted her. “It’s okay, girl. Be back soon.” Hot tears slipped into his eyes and he stepped away from the car.
Mrs. Jenkins looked seriously at Liam. “You be careful. There’s more traffic in those big cities. I know they drive crazy in Boston where my daughter lives. It will probably be worse in New York.”
“I’ll be careful. I’ll call you to tell you when we’ll be back. Just a day or two.” Liam responded with a smile.
“Stay a few days. Do something fun while you’re down there. We’ll keep an eye on things here.” Mrs. Jenkins returned his smile.
The car drove away and Liam and Spike went back into the cabin to get their bags and lock up. They were on the road in a few minutes.
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They arrived at the Radisson in New Rochelle at seven that night. Liam had arranged for a large room with two queen-sized beds and a small kitchenette. They checked in and went up to the room. Spike quickly turned on the huge television. “Wow! That’s a big screen!” He immediately began flicking through the channels.
Liam called his aunt and they arranged to meet at the house around eleven. Aunt Margaret wanted Liam to have a chance to choose the pieces he wanted before they left for the reading of the will. He had first choice and then his father’s girlfriend would be permitted to take a few things. The will would be read at three in the afternoon in a lawyer’s office. Surprisingly, Liam’s father had named the nun as executor of the estate. Liam and Spike unpacked, freshened up and went down to the dining room for dinner.
Liam was nervous. He ordered a Jameson’s before dinner and drank several glasses of wine as they ate. He was quiet and often looked off and didn’t hear what Spike was saying.
“Liam, why are you nervous?” Spike asked.
Liam looked surprised and then chagrined. “Um…haven’t been in that house for years. Don’t know what to expect. If my father changed things or if it’s the same.”
“Well, your aunt and I’ll be there. Won’t let you get lost.” Spike grinned, hoping that his comment would bring Liam out of his worry.
Liam returned Spike’s smile. “Sorry. You finished?”
“Yeah, want to watch a movie on that big screen TV?” Spike asked.
Liam looked at the hopeful expression on Spike’s face. His heart lurched as he looked at Spike. He gave the smaller man a mock glare. “My TV is gonna be too small for you now, huh?”
Spike looked a bit embarrassed. “Never seen anything on one that big. We don’t need one quite that big. Take up too much room in the cabin.”
They went up to their room and Spike ordered The Last Samurai while Liam took a shower. Then, Spike went in to take his. When he came out, Liam was already in one of the beds. They looked at each other for a long moment.
“I got two beds in case you…”
“Your bed is closer to the TV.” Spike responded nonchalantly.
Liam turned back the covers and Spike hopped in. The film began a few minutes later. This time it was Liam who fell asleep during the movie. Spike watched it all, turned off the television and the lights and spooned his body closely around Liam’s. The larger man moved back against him but did not wake up. Spike wrapped his arm around Liam’s waist and fell asleep within minutes.
*************************
They drove to Larchmont and Liam pointed out the larch trees which gave the town its name. Unlike other evergreens, the maverick genus sheds its needles every fall. They were first planted in the town in the eighteenth century to protect a rich man’s house from the dusty traffic on the Boston Post Road. Liam parked in front of an enormous colonial house. Spike stared. “That’s your house?”
Liam smiled. “Yeah.”
“How many rooms?”
“Five bedrooms, three baths, living room, dining room, kitchen, den, library, mud room.” Liam rattled of the information.
“Five bedrooms! What’s a sodding mud room?” Spike demanded, his eyes wide with surprise.
Liam laughed and it felt good. Spike is so good for me. How could I have pushed him away? “A mud room is adjacent to the garage. You come in that door and take off your coats, boots, etc. It’s also the laundry.”
Liam’s aunt was waiting and they walked inside. Spike was in awe. The only thing he had ever seen that was this spectacular was the royal apartments that he’d seen on television once. He followed Liam and the nun around, marveling at the opulence. The kitchen was bigger than his father’s apartment in Liverpool! They climbed the stairs and looked at the bedrooms. Liam opened the last door in the hallway. It was his old bedroom and it was almost exactly the same as he left it when he went to college. The posters were gone but the portrait his mother had made him sit for when he was sixteen still hung on the wall. His trophies and the books he left behind were on the shelves. The bedspread and drapes were the same. There were several pictures of him in frames on his desk; pictures of him as a baby, a child, a boy and a man. The rocking chair that had been his grandfather’s was in front of the window. Liam took it all in and then turned and left the room.
Spike looked at the nun, whose eyes were filled with tears. “His mother came in here all the time. She kept it for him, in case…” She stopped and wiped at her eyes. “Catherine wasn’t strong. She couldn’t stand up to that bastard.” She spoke harshly but smiled when Spike looked at her in shock. “I’m a nun, not a saint, Spike. I’ll go find Liam.”
Spike nodded and followed her downstairs, but he turned in the opposite direction and wandered in and out of the perfectly decorated rooms. The silver pieces in the dining room cabinet looked like the pieces that people sold for thousands of pounds on a TV show back in England. The library had almost as many books as the small one on North Hero and the desk - It’s sodding bigger than the one the President sat behind when that blue Nightcrawler guy attacked him in the second X-Men movie. Bloody hell! He’s rich as Croesus!
He walked around, taking in the expensive furniture and paintings that looked like the ones in a museum. He became more and more agitated and embarrassed by his humble background. Liam knew what his mother was. He knew he had always lived in apartments or rooms - never in a house. Half the time in California, he lived in shelters. He’s a bloody, sodding toff, William, and you’re fucking street scum!
He threw open the back door and stormed outside onto a stone patio with steps that led down to a huge pool, covered for the winter. He ran down the steps and began pacing on the frozen grass. He felt more and more out of place. Fucking fool, William. You didn’t pass that history test. Not gonna pass the maths or the science one neither. Never go to sodding college or art school. Ann would have to tutor you forever. You talk like a bloody street tart. That’s what you are. Stop pretending! You’ll embarrass Liam in front of his friends. Bollocks! Tried to forget who you are. Tried to pretend, you stupid sodding idjit. Street trash. Whore. Sold your skinny ass. Let men fuck you for money. Never be anything but street trash.
“Spike! I was looking for you.” Liam shouted from the house.
Spike stopped pacing and walked back up to the house. Liam looked at him. “Is anything wrong?”
Spike shook his head no, but Liam noticed his rigid posture, clenched fists and flushed face. What happened to make him upset? “We’re going to have a quick lunch near the lawyer’s office.”
“Liam…could you take me back to the hotel? Not feelin’ good.” Spike asked.
He saw Liam’s worried frown and hated himself for lying. “Just need to lie down. Headache.”
“Sure. I won’t be long.”
They were going to the lawyer’s office in the nun’s car. Spike’s world was askew. Liam was rich. Movie star rich. And the nun drove a car!
“I’ve got some powerful aspirins, Spike.” The nun said. She looked at him so intently that he had to look away.
“Just a headache. Be okay.” He mumbled and got in the backseat.
Liam drove the long black car that belonged to the convent back to the hotel. Spike stared out the window. Least it’s sodding black!
They stopped in front of the building. Liam turned around to look at Spike. “Sure it’s just a headache?”
Spike attempted a smile. “Not pneumonia, ponce. Just a headache.”
Liam rolled his eyes and smiled. He waved and drove off. Spike went up to the room and threw himself on the bed. His thoughts were tormenting him and he really had a headache. He knew Liam carried some ibuprofen and Spike searched his small black shaving case. He found the medicine and a tiny bottle with Liam’s name on it. It had four pills inside. The label read Alprazolam. He remembered that Doc Clayton said he had given Liam something to help him sleep. I need to sleep…stop thinkin’… Spike spilled out two of the pills and took the medicine. Within minutes he was fast asleep.
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Liam returned to the hotel several hours later, emotionally and physically drained. He had told the attorney what he wanted - the rocking chair in his room, his grandmother’s pewter tea set, antique desk and cabinet. He chose the overstuffed chair and dresser that had been in his mother’s sewing room. She preferred to sit in that chair to read, rather than anywhere else. He wanted one piece from his mother’s jewelry collection. It was a ring with a Celtic design that had belonged to his maternal grandfather. He took two of the three small sculptures that he had made and given to his mother. Aunt Margaret had asked for one. He decided on four of the many paintings in the house - the portrait of him hanging in his bedroom that his mother loved, a watercolor she painted of the beach in Larchmont, a watercolor of East Chop Light on Martha’s Vineyard that he had often visited as a child and a small Edward Hopper watercolor - Adobe Houses - that his mother’s father had purchased many years before. All of the others would be donated to the various museums that his father stipulated in his will.
His father’s girlfriend could choose three pieces of furniture and Aunt Margaret could select a few things that she wanted and would manage the sale or donation of everything else. The house already had a buyer and Liam would receive three-fourths of the amount; his father’s girlfriend would get the rest. There was also a huge trust fund that his mother had set up for him that he knew nothing about. This would be added to the money and properties David left him. He was very, very wealthy. He drove back to the hotel, relieved it all was over. He actually felt as if the huge weight of memories and hurt had been lifted. He smiled and began to plan the trip into New York City with Spike. He couldn’t wait to see his excitement.
Liam didn't hear any noise from the hotel room and he entered quietly. Spike was sprawled in bed, sleeping soundly. He smiled at the tousled curls and admired, not for the first time, the beauty of this man who had burst into his life and reawakened powerful feelings in his heart and soul. He showered and dressed. It was now six o’clock and Spike had been sleeping for at least three hours. Liam knew he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Liam grinned. If he sleeps much longer, he’ll be awake all night watching television on that big screen and I won’t get any sleep. His groin tightened and his grin widened. Of course, we may be doing other things.
He pushed away his sexual imaginings and sat on the bed beside Spike. He shook him gently and called his name. Spike didn’t move or make a sound. Liam tried for several minutes to rouse him. He went into the bathroom to get some ice. He noticed his open shaving kit and the bottle of pills the doctor had given him. Two were missing! Oh God, no…no…no. He hurried back in and took Spike’s pulse. It was faint, but beating. He rubbed the ice-filled cloth on Spike’s face. Liam pulled him up and shook him harder as he loudly called his name. He clutched Spike into his arms and rocked him, whispering his name over and over. Suddenly he heard a soft voice. “You’re squishing me, ponce!”
Liam drew back and stared into slightly unfocused blue eyes. Spike looked back at Liam and noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Fear, happiness and fury battled in Liam’s heart. “Spike, did you take my pills?”
Spike looked sheepish. “Yeah, doc said he gave them to you to help you sleep. I needed to sleep…stop thinkin’.”
“Spike, never, never take medicine without knowing what it does to you.” Liam said authoritatively as he grasped Spike's shoulders tightly. “If you take too many…you could…you could overdose and die!” Liam’s voice broke on his final few words.
Spike looked at Liam’s face. He saw the anger, but he also saw fear. Liam’s body was trembling. He reached toward the larger man. “Never do that, Liam. Saw too many drug overdoses. Wouldn’t do that to you.” Spike’s voice trailed off and he looked away.
Liam grabbed his chin and forced Spike to look at him. “What’s wrong? You didn’t really have a headache, did you?”
Spike closed his eyes and answered. “No.” He sighed and opened his eyes. “You’re bloody rich... a sodding, bloody toff, Liam. I’m…I’m nothin’…a street…”
Liam covered Spike’s mouth with his hand. “You are not that man anymore. Stop thinking that.” He paused and sat back, staring intently at Spike’s quivering mouth. He leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. He drew away and reached to brush Spike’s hair from his forehead. He began to speak quietly and seriously. “Spike, Aunt Margaret told me I should see a therapist. David’s death haunts me…” He felt Spike stiffen and reached out to stroke his face. “You know I worry that you’ll leave…me.”
Spike interrupted. “Told ya I won’t runaway, Liam.”
“That’s what I mean,” Liam continued. “My fears are irrational and now my father’s ugly words are taunting me. I think Aunt Margaret’s right and…and I think it would be good for you to go…to…” He stroked Spike’s flushed face again. “Your feelings change so quickly…you’re happy…then furious…all in a few seconds. That’s not good, Spike.” Liam watched Spike’s face, begging him silently not to feel rejected; not to burst into tears or violent curses.
Spike stared at Liam for a long time; emotions and thoughts battling each other. He saw the worry etched on Liam’s face but also concern. Spike believed for the first time that Liam truly cared for him and wanted him in his life. Suddenly he heard the voice that taunted him; told him he was scum and un…unlovable. Liam was right; he listened to the suspicions and let them make him feel worthless. Liam had been honest with him. Liam was going to therapy. He smirked. “Okay, ponce. But I ain’t talkin’ about my toilet training.”
Liam’s face cleared and he began to laugh. He hugged Spike to him tightly and they stayed together for several minutes until Spike’s stomach growled. Liam leaned back. “You must be starving! Go get a shower. I’m taking you to Agostino’s for some pasta!”
*************************
At the restaurant, Liam ordered three different pasta dishes and Spike sampled them all - vigorously. The chef came out from the kitchen when he heard about the slender young man, stuffing himself with his specially made dishes. The two men exited the restaurant sated and a bit buzzed from the wine. Liam noticed the moon was full and bright. He drove to the beach in Larchmont and they got out and walked across the sand. They stopped to watch the waves crashing onto the sand. Liam wrapped his arms around Spike and rested his chin on the soft light brown curls.
“Shall we go to the city tomorrow? Do you want to see a play? I’ve heard that Wicked is really great.”
Spike spun around a huge smile creasing his thin face. “Yeah! Saw pictures of that on the internet. It’s about the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz - except she’s not really wicked.”
“I’ll call Mrs. Jenkins tomorrow morning. Make sure Mac and Bella are okay. We can stay in the city for a few days.”
Spike had not stopped grinning. He gave Liam a quick kiss before he stepped away and began to dance down the beach singing in a high voice, “Ding dong the Witch is dead, Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Ding dong the Wicked Witch is Dead!”
Liam laughed until his cheeks were wet with happy tears.
*************************
They drove into New York the next morning. Liam had arranged for a suite at The Michelangelo Hotel on West 51st Street. They checked in and immediately went to the Empire State Building because Spike had seen it in Sleepless in Seattle and King Kong. They visited Greenwich Village, which had been an artistic haven since the 1920’s. Jackson Pollack, Willem de Kooning and Andy Warhol all spent time working and socializing in the many cafes that dotted its streets and alleys. Mark Twain, Walt Whitman and Edgar Allan Poe rented rooms and did some writing and drinking. They hurried back to the hotel to shower and change for dinner at La Grenoville. Spike was not impressed.
“The food’s okay - bit oozy. I liked Agostino’s better. These waiters are too…snooty.”
Liam could barely contain his laughter. The restaurant was one of the most famous and expensive restaurants in the city. They took a cab to the theatre. Spike was mesmerized by the production of Wicked. Liam watched him almost as much as he watched the musical. After another cab ride, they arrived back at their hotel. Spike was visibly exhausted. He leaned heavily against Liam in the elevator and collapsed fully clothed on the bed. Liam went in to shower. He had just rinsed the soap out of his hair when the glass door opened and a grinning, naked Spike walked in nonchalantly. He turned his back on Liam and bent over to pick up a bottle of shampoo. He knew full well what the sight of his ass would do to Liam. He grinned to himself and began to wash.
Liam stood frozen - all except his cock - which hardened immediately at the sight of Spike’s pale ass as he washed and stretched.
Spike stepped back and pressed his body into Liam’s. He felt the larger man’s hardened cock but he spoke matter of factly. “Hey, Liam, can you wash my back for me?”
Liam woke out of his salacious reverie and soaped Spike’s back as he washed his hair. Spike turned around and with his eyes closed, stood directly under the shower head, letting the water slide seductively over his skin. Liam had enough teasing. He stepped in and pressed close to Spike, who opened his eyes and grinned.
“Wanted to see how long ya could resist me, Liam.” He said smirking.
Liam stared for a moment at Spike’s lovely mischievous face and then pushed off the shower. In one swift movement, he lifted the smaller man up, grabbed a towel from the heated rack and carried him into the bedroom. He dropped Spike onto the center of the enormous bed and knelt over him and began to pat him dry. He said nothing and his face did not give a clue to what he was feeling. Spike’s cock was already stiff, but Liam ignored it and just patted it dry like the rest of his body.
Spike was getting a bit nervous. Did he misread Liam? Suddenly Liam stopped drying and lay down between Spike’s legs and swallowed his previously neglected cock down to the root. Spike arched off the bed as Liam sucked hard and fingered his hole. He was lost in the sensual sensation and couldn’t control himself. He erupted into Liam’s mouth.
Liam took him all, wiped his mouth and then lay his body across Spike’s. He grinned. “About as long as you can resist me.”
Chapter 12
Authors: angelspike69 and anamcara420
Pairing: Liam/Spike (William)
Rating: Adult. This story contains M/M sex. If that isn’t your cup of tea then go away now and don’t read any farther.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Angel and Spike don’t belong to us. If they did, they’d be following up all their fighting and snarking with each other with lots of manly shagging.
Spoilers: No spoilers at all as this is a story that takes place in an alternate universe where our boys are totally human and have never been vampires. We’re not even sure if they believe in them.
Feedback: AngelSpike69 and Anamcara420
Notes: Would like to extend our sincere thanks to makd for her beta of our story. You are the best sweetie!!!!! Previous chapters can be found in my memories here or in our archive here.
Summary: Two damaged young men meet by chance in the woods in Vermont. Through conflict and kindness and the special magic of Christmas, they stop running from their pasts and help each other to heal.
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Chapter 11
The jarring ring of the telephone awakened Liam. He eased away from Spike, who was still sleeping in the crook of his neck. The phone kept ringing. Liam hurried out to answer the phone. It was early - not even seven o’clock. As he lifted the phone, he realized he was naked and struggled to cover himself with the blanket from the sofa.
“Hello?”
“Liam. It’s Sister Margaret - your Aunt Margaret.” A soft voice replied.
Liam was stunned. Something had to be wrong. He had spoken to his aunt only a few times since his mother - her sister - had died. “Hello," he said tentatively.
“Liam, your father is dead. He died last week.”
“Oh.” Liam felt very little sadness. His father had not spoken to him since he moved in with David, years ago. But, it was his father. “When is the funeral?”
There was silence. “Aunt Margaret?”
“He’s already been buried, Liam. He…he didn’t want you there. I’m so sorry.” She answered quietly. “He’d been ill for several months and I tried to…”
“That’s okay. I know I broke my parents’ hearts and he blamed me for my mother’s death.” Liam gripped the phone tightly, old memories stomping to the front of his mind.
“Liam, your father was wrong. My sister had heart problems when she was a young woman. You had nothing to do with her death. Your father was a powerful man and he expected every one to measure up to his standards. He…I’m sorry I shouldn’t…”
“It’s okay, Aunt Margaret. But if the funeral’s over, why are you calling me?”
“The will is going to be read.”
Liam laughed bitterly. “I won’t be mentioned.”
“You were in your mother’s and your grandmother’s wills but he kept them from you. You should come, Liam. There are things your mother and grandmother wanted you to have.”
Liam said nothing for a few minutes. He hadn’t been back to his childhood home since he and David moved in together. He would like to have a few pieces of furniture that belonged to his mother and grandmother for remembrance.
He vividly remembered his last visit to his parents' house. His father hit him and said horrible things to him. His mother intervened, but Liam stormed out. He loved his mother but she would never cross his father, not even for her own son. She never came to see him after he began to live with David, although she called a few times. And then she died. After her death, his grandmother came to his apartment to tell him; he cried in her arms. His father never even called to tell him.
“Liam?” His aunt’s voice pierced his reverie. “Will you come? Your father had a…woman friend. She…You really should come.”
“Okay. When?”
“Saturday afternoon. We’ll meet at the house. Call when you get to the hotel. We should meet by noon to give us enough time.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling, Aunt Margaret. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“God bless, Liam.” She answered softly, and hung up.
Liam stood for several minutes clutching the buzzing phone. Mac nudged his leg. He put down the phone and let the dog outside. Without thinking, moving like a robot, he put out food for the dog and Bella; his mind was awash with memories. Happy memories from his childhood were crowded out by his final visit home. He saw his father’s furious face and his angry words screamed in his head. Pervert. Whore. Fag. “I never want to see your vile, disgusting face again. After all we’ve done for you. You deviant. Hurt yourself playing football…A man’s game. Queer. I’ll see that your…that he never gets another contract. I have friends! Get out of my sight. Get out!
Mac barked, and tore him out of his reverie. He let the dog in, and then stumbled to the sofa. He lowered his head and sobbed. Sobbed for all of the lost years. For his mother’s sudden death…the loss of his grandmother and…David. He had no idea how long he sat until he heard Spike’s voice as he hurried over to him. “Liam…what’s wrong? What happened?”
Liam looked up and Spike gasped at his flushed, tear-streaked face. Spike knelt in front of him and put his hands on his cheeks. “Tell me…how…how can I help?” Spike begged.
Liam looked at the man who now filled his life and sighed. “My father died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Liam.”
“He’s already buried…didn’t want his deviant son at his funeral.” Liam said in a harsh voice.
Spike froze at the word deviant and took his hands from Liam’s face. Liam quickly grasped Spike’s slender hands. “My father called me that because I was with David. I told you he threw me out. I never saw him or my mother again.”
“Someone called you?” Spike asked. “What did they want?”
“My aunt - my mother’s sister. She’s a nun.”
“A nun!” Spike eyes were wide with shock and Liam felt his heart flutter at the look of innocent wonder on his beautiful face.
“She wear one of those long black dresses and her head is under some veil thing?” Spike asked, totally incredulous. He thought nuns were locked in their convents with no phones.
Liam’s sad face brightened a bit into a lopsided smile and he squeezed Spike’s fingers. “Not today. My aunt wears a gray suit and no veil.”
“How do you know she’s a nun?”
“Well, she wears a large cross over her blouse. Somehow even without the habit, she looks like a nun. You’ll see.” Liam replied.
“What d’ya mean I’ll see?” Spike demanded.
Liam pulled Spike up from his knees and motioned for him to sit next to him. “She called to tell me that I have to go down to New York on Saturday. My mother wanted me to have some of her things, but my father wouldn’t tell me. It’s in her will, apparently.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll be okay here by myself.” Spike said quietly.
“Spike, I want you to come with me. I’m going to drive down. It’ll take five hours.”
Spike didn’t answer but he looked intently at Liam. “Sure ya want me to go? Will the nun care?”
“Aunt Margaret is…well, I met her for lunch shortly after I moved in with David. She just wanted me to be happy. She told me my mother did too, but she couldn’t stand up to my father.”
“Okay. Never been to New York.” Spike said.
"Well, it’s not New York City. It’s in the suburbs. We’ll see how things go. Maybe we could go into the city. See a play.” Suddenly his body stiffened and he drew back. Memories clawed their way from the recesses of his mind: The Nutcracker with his mother at Christmas. Theatre evenings with David. Formal parties at the Warwick Hotel. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Carriage rides in Central Park. Yankee games…the Jets. Spike’s animated voice dragged him back to the present.
“I saw the website for the Metropolitan Museum and I read about Greenwich Village; lots of authors lived there and Andy Warhol.” Spike said. The sixties icon fascinated him. He couldn’t believe that paintings of soup cans would be considered art.
Liam spoke tentatively. “We’ll…we’ll see. We’ll leave Friday afternoon. We have to stay in New Rochelle. There’s no hotel in the village.”
“Village?”
Liam smiled slightly although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Larchmont is a village, not a town. It’s very small - not more than a mile. It’s on Long Island Sound. There’s a beach.”
Spike’s stomach growled and Liam looked over at him. “I’m not really hungry. Can you get breakfast for yourself?”
“Sure.”
Liam stood up, still clutching the blanket to him. “I’m going to shower.”
Spike watched him leave the room. Liam’s whole body seemed sad. He walked slowly, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered.
*************************
Liam drove Spike to work. There was little conversation between them; Liam seemed distracted and distant. He dropped Spike off and didn’t go into the store to talk with John and Amy as he usually did.
“You goin’ back to the cabin?” Spike asked.
“Yeah.” Liam replied. He didn’t smile, just turned his head and drove away. Spike stared after the truck, biting his lips in concern. He could understand Liam being sad, but he hadn’t seen his father in years. Something else was going on. When he entered the store, John and Amy knew immediately something was wrong. His demeanor was totally off. No grin on his face and he walked slowly, instead of his usual quick lope. He told John and Amy that Liam’s father had died.
“Oh, he never mentioned family.” Amy said.
“They…he…he and his da hadn’t spoken in a long time. His mum died years ago.” Spike replied. He paused and his forehead wrinkled into a frown. “I think…”
“What, Spike?” John asked.
“He’s…he’s more than sad.” Spike looked up at the couple. He knew they cared about Liam and he didn’t know what to do. “I’m worried.”
“I’ll call Doc Clayton.” Amy said. “Is he going home?”
“He said he was.”
*************************
A few hours later, the doctor arrived. He nodded to Spike, John and Amy and looked around to see if anyone else was in the store.
“What’s wrong?” Spike asked. The doctor face was serious.
“Liam…” He paused and Spike’s stomach cramped in fear. The doctor began again. “People deal with death in different ways. I think there’s more going on with Liam than just his father’s death.”
“I knew it. I’ve gotta go home.” Spike said.
“No. Liam wants you to stay here for now. You’re supposed to go to Ann’s today, right?” The doctor asked.
Spike’s heart trembled. “He doesn’t want me…?”
“He just needs to be by himself for a bit. He needs some time.” The doctor said.
“Spike, stay with us for dinner and then go to Ann’s. We’ll drive you home later.” Amy said. She wanted to hug the younger man, but wasn’t sure how he’d respond.
Spike looked at the three adults. They knew he was hurt that Liam didn’t want him to come back to the cabin. The doctor walked over and stood directly in front of him. “Spike, do you know why he and his father were estranged?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m not asking you to reveal a confidence. It just helps me to know. I’ve never seen him like this.” The doctor replied.
“Like what! What’s wrong? I’ve got to go home. He shouldn’t be by himself!” Spike’s voice grew louder and more strident with each sentence.
The doctor put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “His affect…he’s very sad and not responsive. I’ve given him something to help calm him; help him sleep. I called Tom and he brought Mrs. Jenkins over. She’s sitting with him.”
Spike’s eyes were wild. “Something to make him sleep? I need to go home!”
“Not right now, Spike.” The doctor said authoritatively. “He needs quiet.”
Spike glared at the doctor and stomped to the other side of the store. He was terrified and angry. I’ll just leave. I’ll walk home. I’ve gotta see him. Why’s he pushing me away? I thought… Furious tears sprung into his eyes. He doesn’t want me there. Lies, always lies. He remembered Liam’s tender touches and another piece of his heart broke. He thought they were growing closer. He thought…Damn him…bloody good actor, Liam…you are a sodding stupid idjit, William!
He jumped and spun around when he felt a hand on his arm. Amy was looking at him with concern. “Spike, I know you’re hurt, but…sometimes people need to be alone when they’re struggling with something.”
“But…” Spike interrupted.
Amy sighed and continued in a soft voice. “Spike. I had a baby, and he died. He was three months old. When I went to check on him, he was dead.” Her voice broke. “I sat in the rocking chair by his bed for weeks. Couldn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t talk to John. Doc Clayton took me to talk to a…a grief counselor…a psychiatrist. I dealt slowly with the guilt and sorrow. It was ten years ago, but it still haunts me. I can’t look at a baby without a piece of my heart breaking.
"I don’t know why Liam is suffering. I do know that if the doc thinks he should be alone for a while, you need to believe him…and don’t think it’s you. I loved John with my whole heart and I kept him away.”
*************************
Spike worked in a fog for the rest of the day. His anger had dissipated, replaced by worry and fear. Ann called to tell him he could take the test another time.
“May as well take it now, Ann. Won’t pass it later. I know nothin’ about History, ‘specially American.”
He had dinner with John and Amy although none of them ate very much. Spike wasn't even tempted by the chocolate cake that Amy offered. John tried to keep the conversation going with anecdotes about various customers and delivery men, but Spike paid little attention. His mind was on the man alone in the cabin in the woods a mile away.
Spike took the history test and as he suspected, he failed. That would be one of the subjects he would have to work on to pass the final GED test. He was surprised when the sheriff arrived to take him home. He worried that he’d have to stay in town overnight. He needed to see Liam…to be there to…watch over him, to feed Mac and Bella. He needed to be home!
The sheriff tried unsuccessfully to engage Spike in conversation. The younger man answered in monosyllables and clenched and reclenched his hands. When the car stopped, he bounded out and raced up the steps. Tom followed him into the house. Liam was sitting on the sofa, watching television. He gripped a large photo album on his lap and several others lay open on the floor. Mac lay across his feet and Bella curled next to him. Spike stood stiffly behind the sofa and stared at the television. Images of a tall, blonde man walking, smiling and talking in a sunny city flitted across the screen.
“Liam.” The sheriff broke the silence and walked over to stand before him. Liam looked up. “You need anything?”
“No…no, thanks, Tom.” He answered and turned back to the television.
Tom was concerned. Liam was distracted and Spike was rigid with anger, his pale face flushed deep red, his hands balled into tight fists. He said good night and left, but he called the doctor on his cell phone.
The DVD ended and Liam stood up. Spike shifted and Liam turned around. He blinked as if surprised to see him there. “Hi…did you…did Tom bring you back? I didn’t know you were there,” he said vacantly as he turned back around. He walked over to flick off the TV and eject the DVD.
“Guess not.” Spike answered coldly. “Been standin’ here for a while. That David?”
“Um…yeah. We were in Rome before…before he got sick.” Liam answered quietly. He sat back on the sofa.
“Those pictures of him too?” Spike asked, his voice strained by his blooming anger.
“Um…this one.” He pointed to the one on his lap. “These…these are when I was little.”
Spike’s shoulders grew less stiff. “Can I see…like to see what you looked like when you were a kid.”
Liam nodded and Spike sat next to him on the sofa. Long into the night, Spike listened to Liam haltingly describing the pictures in the photo albums. Sometimes he would just trail off and rub his finger over a picture. When Spike prodded, he would continue in a whisper. Spike saw pictures of Liam as a happy little boy and as a football player flanked by his grinning parents. In the later albums, the parents were absent. An elderly lady was in some pictures, but the focus was the tall blonde man…David…and Liam. They traveled to many places: jungles, beaches, and many, many cities. There were pictures of them on a large, white sailboat; in tuxedos at fancy parties. In every one of them Liam was grinning, smiling, and beaming.
Liam closed the last album and turned to Spike, tears spilling from his deep brown eyes. “I…I needed to remember…when…he loved me…when my father loved me.” Liam fell against Spike and sobbed. Spike held him and stroked his hand up and down his back, his own tears falling into Liam’s dark hair. Eventually the two men slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Liam opened his eyes and stared into Spike’s sleeping face. Spike’s slender arms embraced his large body. His eyes filled with tears. He had pushed Spike away. He had hurt the most important person in his life. He pulled back carefully hoping to escape without waking him, but as soon as he moved, Spike opened his eyes.
“Am I crushing you?” Liam asked.
Spike blinked and smiled. “Yeah, a bit.”
Liam drew away. “Spike…I’m sorry…”
“No worries…” Spike began but stopped and his blue eyes blazed. “I was scared something happened to you! They wouldn’t let me come home!”
Liam lowered his head. “I’m sorry…I was…I’m sorry I hurt you…just had…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Liam…I thought…thought we were…friends.” Spike said softly. “Friends look out for each other, yeah?”
Liam looked up at Spike’s troubled face. The anger was gone from his beautiful blue eyes; replaced by sadness. Liam spoke quietly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Spike’s hand. “I’m sorry…I…fell apart…I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Why? You saw me…crying, scared, sick.” Spike’s voice was thick and he frantically blinked his eyes to keep the moisture from spilling out.
“Sometimes…” Liam sighed and looked away from Spike. “I…I finally got myself together after…David. I was a mess. I’d stay in bed for days…unable to get up. All the pain from my father’s rejection…the guilt because my mother died came rushing back. It took me years to stop falling apart when I thought of…my past. I thought I was…I thought I was strong…and then…my father died and he didn’t want me at his funeral. He hated me from the grave!” He looked at Spike, who was watching him intently, his forehead creased with anxiety. “And all the hurt came back…and I collapsed…again.”
He touched Spike’s face. “I’m sorry if I hurt you…I wasn’t thinking…I was remembering.”
“You know my past haunts me, Liam. You’ve seen me when my nightmares…I…I could have helped you.” Spike said quietly, his hurt visible on his face.
Liam swallowed, lowered his head and sat silently for a few minutes. He felt Spike stiffen beside him and he looked up. “I…I had hardened my heart…didn’t want it to ever be hurt like that again and then…I found you and…you forced your way into my heart…and…and I keep waiting for you to leave.”
Spike’s anger flared. “Leave! Think I’m gonna run out on ya? I’m a runaway, yeah?”
Liam reached for his hand. “Spike…you’re young…the island…most of the young people leave…go away to school and…they don’t come back. Why would you stay?”
“Why would I stay?” Spike shouted and snatched his hand away. He glared at Liam. “You’re bloody…sodding stupid, Liam, even with your college degree! I want to be with you!” He stood up suddenly and stomped away from the sofa. He spun around to face Liam, fury etched on his pale skin. Suddenly his anger disappeared and tears flowed down his cheeks as he spoke. “I want to be with you! You…these people…everyone cares about each other. You…they…when I was in the hospital…Thanksgiving, Christmas…I never…Never sat a dinner table with everyone…like that. There’s so much…kindness…happiness…I…I belong somewhere and people…know my name…all because of you…why would I leave you?” He sank to his knees. Liam rushed over and knelt in front of him. He enveloped Spike in his arms and they clung to each other for a long time.
*************************
The next afternoon, Friday, Doc Clayton brought Mrs. Jenkins over to get Mac and Bella. Mac bounded into the car, but Spike carried Bella wrapped in Liam’s robe. “She can smell the both of us. Maybe she won’t be as upset.” Spike said.
“Mac will be with her. She’ll miss you but she’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Spike.” Mrs. Jenkins got into the car and Spike gently placed the robed cat on her lap.
Bella meowed plaintively and he petted her. “It’s okay, girl. Be back soon.” Hot tears slipped into his eyes and he stepped away from the car.
Mrs. Jenkins looked seriously at Liam. “You be careful. There’s more traffic in those big cities. I know they drive crazy in Boston where my daughter lives. It will probably be worse in New York.”
“I’ll be careful. I’ll call you to tell you when we’ll be back. Just a day or two.” Liam responded with a smile.
“Stay a few days. Do something fun while you’re down there. We’ll keep an eye on things here.” Mrs. Jenkins returned his smile.
The car drove away and Liam and Spike went back into the cabin to get their bags and lock up. They were on the road in a few minutes.
*************************
They arrived at the Radisson in New Rochelle at seven that night. Liam had arranged for a large room with two queen-sized beds and a small kitchenette. They checked in and went up to the room. Spike quickly turned on the huge television. “Wow! That’s a big screen!” He immediately began flicking through the channels.
Liam called his aunt and they arranged to meet at the house around eleven. Aunt Margaret wanted Liam to have a chance to choose the pieces he wanted before they left for the reading of the will. He had first choice and then his father’s girlfriend would be permitted to take a few things. The will would be read at three in the afternoon in a lawyer’s office. Surprisingly, Liam’s father had named the nun as executor of the estate. Liam and Spike unpacked, freshened up and went down to the dining room for dinner.
Liam was nervous. He ordered a Jameson’s before dinner and drank several glasses of wine as they ate. He was quiet and often looked off and didn’t hear what Spike was saying.
“Liam, why are you nervous?” Spike asked.
Liam looked surprised and then chagrined. “Um…haven’t been in that house for years. Don’t know what to expect. If my father changed things or if it’s the same.”
“Well, your aunt and I’ll be there. Won’t let you get lost.” Spike grinned, hoping that his comment would bring Liam out of his worry.
Liam returned Spike’s smile. “Sorry. You finished?”
“Yeah, want to watch a movie on that big screen TV?” Spike asked.
Liam looked at the hopeful expression on Spike’s face. His heart lurched as he looked at Spike. He gave the smaller man a mock glare. “My TV is gonna be too small for you now, huh?”
Spike looked a bit embarrassed. “Never seen anything on one that big. We don’t need one quite that big. Take up too much room in the cabin.”
They went up to their room and Spike ordered The Last Samurai while Liam took a shower. Then, Spike went in to take his. When he came out, Liam was already in one of the beds. They looked at each other for a long moment.
“I got two beds in case you…”
“Your bed is closer to the TV.” Spike responded nonchalantly.
Liam turned back the covers and Spike hopped in. The film began a few minutes later. This time it was Liam who fell asleep during the movie. Spike watched it all, turned off the television and the lights and spooned his body closely around Liam’s. The larger man moved back against him but did not wake up. Spike wrapped his arm around Liam’s waist and fell asleep within minutes.
*************************
They drove to Larchmont and Liam pointed out the larch trees which gave the town its name. Unlike other evergreens, the maverick genus sheds its needles every fall. They were first planted in the town in the eighteenth century to protect a rich man’s house from the dusty traffic on the Boston Post Road. Liam parked in front of an enormous colonial house. Spike stared. “That’s your house?”
Liam smiled. “Yeah.”
“How many rooms?”
“Five bedrooms, three baths, living room, dining room, kitchen, den, library, mud room.” Liam rattled of the information.
“Five bedrooms! What’s a sodding mud room?” Spike demanded, his eyes wide with surprise.
Liam laughed and it felt good. Spike is so good for me. How could I have pushed him away? “A mud room is adjacent to the garage. You come in that door and take off your coats, boots, etc. It’s also the laundry.”
Liam’s aunt was waiting and they walked inside. Spike was in awe. The only thing he had ever seen that was this spectacular was the royal apartments that he’d seen on television once. He followed Liam and the nun around, marveling at the opulence. The kitchen was bigger than his father’s apartment in Liverpool! They climbed the stairs and looked at the bedrooms. Liam opened the last door in the hallway. It was his old bedroom and it was almost exactly the same as he left it when he went to college. The posters were gone but the portrait his mother had made him sit for when he was sixteen still hung on the wall. His trophies and the books he left behind were on the shelves. The bedspread and drapes were the same. There were several pictures of him in frames on his desk; pictures of him as a baby, a child, a boy and a man. The rocking chair that had been his grandfather’s was in front of the window. Liam took it all in and then turned and left the room.
Spike looked at the nun, whose eyes were filled with tears. “His mother came in here all the time. She kept it for him, in case…” She stopped and wiped at her eyes. “Catherine wasn’t strong. She couldn’t stand up to that bastard.” She spoke harshly but smiled when Spike looked at her in shock. “I’m a nun, not a saint, Spike. I’ll go find Liam.”
Spike nodded and followed her downstairs, but he turned in the opposite direction and wandered in and out of the perfectly decorated rooms. The silver pieces in the dining room cabinet looked like the pieces that people sold for thousands of pounds on a TV show back in England. The library had almost as many books as the small one on North Hero and the desk - It’s sodding bigger than the one the President sat behind when that blue Nightcrawler guy attacked him in the second X-Men movie. Bloody hell! He’s rich as Croesus!
He walked around, taking in the expensive furniture and paintings that looked like the ones in a museum. He became more and more agitated and embarrassed by his humble background. Liam knew what his mother was. He knew he had always lived in apartments or rooms - never in a house. Half the time in California, he lived in shelters. He’s a bloody, sodding toff, William, and you’re fucking street scum!
He threw open the back door and stormed outside onto a stone patio with steps that led down to a huge pool, covered for the winter. He ran down the steps and began pacing on the frozen grass. He felt more and more out of place. Fucking fool, William. You didn’t pass that history test. Not gonna pass the maths or the science one neither. Never go to sodding college or art school. Ann would have to tutor you forever. You talk like a bloody street tart. That’s what you are. Stop pretending! You’ll embarrass Liam in front of his friends. Bollocks! Tried to forget who you are. Tried to pretend, you stupid sodding idjit. Street trash. Whore. Sold your skinny ass. Let men fuck you for money. Never be anything but street trash.
“Spike! I was looking for you.” Liam shouted from the house.
Spike stopped pacing and walked back up to the house. Liam looked at him. “Is anything wrong?”
Spike shook his head no, but Liam noticed his rigid posture, clenched fists and flushed face. What happened to make him upset? “We’re going to have a quick lunch near the lawyer’s office.”
“Liam…could you take me back to the hotel? Not feelin’ good.” Spike asked.
He saw Liam’s worried frown and hated himself for lying. “Just need to lie down. Headache.”
“Sure. I won’t be long.”
They were going to the lawyer’s office in the nun’s car. Spike’s world was askew. Liam was rich. Movie star rich. And the nun drove a car!
“I’ve got some powerful aspirins, Spike.” The nun said. She looked at him so intently that he had to look away.
“Just a headache. Be okay.” He mumbled and got in the backseat.
Liam drove the long black car that belonged to the convent back to the hotel. Spike stared out the window. Least it’s sodding black!
They stopped in front of the building. Liam turned around to look at Spike. “Sure it’s just a headache?”
Spike attempted a smile. “Not pneumonia, ponce. Just a headache.”
Liam rolled his eyes and smiled. He waved and drove off. Spike went up to the room and threw himself on the bed. His thoughts were tormenting him and he really had a headache. He knew Liam carried some ibuprofen and Spike searched his small black shaving case. He found the medicine and a tiny bottle with Liam’s name on it. It had four pills inside. The label read Alprazolam. He remembered that Doc Clayton said he had given Liam something to help him sleep. I need to sleep…stop thinkin’… Spike spilled out two of the pills and took the medicine. Within minutes he was fast asleep.
*************************
Liam returned to the hotel several hours later, emotionally and physically drained. He had told the attorney what he wanted - the rocking chair in his room, his grandmother’s pewter tea set, antique desk and cabinet. He chose the overstuffed chair and dresser that had been in his mother’s sewing room. She preferred to sit in that chair to read, rather than anywhere else. He wanted one piece from his mother’s jewelry collection. It was a ring with a Celtic design that had belonged to his maternal grandfather. He took two of the three small sculptures that he had made and given to his mother. Aunt Margaret had asked for one. He decided on four of the many paintings in the house - the portrait of him hanging in his bedroom that his mother loved, a watercolor she painted of the beach in Larchmont, a watercolor of East Chop Light on Martha’s Vineyard that he had often visited as a child and a small Edward Hopper watercolor - Adobe Houses - that his mother’s father had purchased many years before. All of the others would be donated to the various museums that his father stipulated in his will.
His father’s girlfriend could choose three pieces of furniture and Aunt Margaret could select a few things that she wanted and would manage the sale or donation of everything else. The house already had a buyer and Liam would receive three-fourths of the amount; his father’s girlfriend would get the rest. There was also a huge trust fund that his mother had set up for him that he knew nothing about. This would be added to the money and properties David left him. He was very, very wealthy. He drove back to the hotel, relieved it all was over. He actually felt as if the huge weight of memories and hurt had been lifted. He smiled and began to plan the trip into New York City with Spike. He couldn’t wait to see his excitement.
Liam didn't hear any noise from the hotel room and he entered quietly. Spike was sprawled in bed, sleeping soundly. He smiled at the tousled curls and admired, not for the first time, the beauty of this man who had burst into his life and reawakened powerful feelings in his heart and soul. He showered and dressed. It was now six o’clock and Spike had been sleeping for at least three hours. Liam knew he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Liam grinned. If he sleeps much longer, he’ll be awake all night watching television on that big screen and I won’t get any sleep. His groin tightened and his grin widened. Of course, we may be doing other things.
He pushed away his sexual imaginings and sat on the bed beside Spike. He shook him gently and called his name. Spike didn’t move or make a sound. Liam tried for several minutes to rouse him. He went into the bathroom to get some ice. He noticed his open shaving kit and the bottle of pills the doctor had given him. Two were missing! Oh God, no…no…no. He hurried back in and took Spike’s pulse. It was faint, but beating. He rubbed the ice-filled cloth on Spike’s face. Liam pulled him up and shook him harder as he loudly called his name. He clutched Spike into his arms and rocked him, whispering his name over and over. Suddenly he heard a soft voice. “You’re squishing me, ponce!”
Liam drew back and stared into slightly unfocused blue eyes. Spike looked back at Liam and noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Fear, happiness and fury battled in Liam’s heart. “Spike, did you take my pills?”
Spike looked sheepish. “Yeah, doc said he gave them to you to help you sleep. I needed to sleep…stop thinkin’.”
“Spike, never, never take medicine without knowing what it does to you.” Liam said authoritatively as he grasped Spike's shoulders tightly. “If you take too many…you could…you could overdose and die!” Liam’s voice broke on his final few words.
Spike looked at Liam’s face. He saw the anger, but he also saw fear. Liam’s body was trembling. He reached toward the larger man. “Never do that, Liam. Saw too many drug overdoses. Wouldn’t do that to you.” Spike’s voice trailed off and he looked away.
Liam grabbed his chin and forced Spike to look at him. “What’s wrong? You didn’t really have a headache, did you?”
Spike closed his eyes and answered. “No.” He sighed and opened his eyes. “You’re bloody rich... a sodding, bloody toff, Liam. I’m…I’m nothin’…a street…”
Liam covered Spike’s mouth with his hand. “You are not that man anymore. Stop thinking that.” He paused and sat back, staring intently at Spike’s quivering mouth. He leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. He drew away and reached to brush Spike’s hair from his forehead. He began to speak quietly and seriously. “Spike, Aunt Margaret told me I should see a therapist. David’s death haunts me…” He felt Spike stiffen and reached out to stroke his face. “You know I worry that you’ll leave…me.”
Spike interrupted. “Told ya I won’t runaway, Liam.”
“That’s what I mean,” Liam continued. “My fears are irrational and now my father’s ugly words are taunting me. I think Aunt Margaret’s right and…and I think it would be good for you to go…to…” He stroked Spike’s flushed face again. “Your feelings change so quickly…you’re happy…then furious…all in a few seconds. That’s not good, Spike.” Liam watched Spike’s face, begging him silently not to feel rejected; not to burst into tears or violent curses.
Spike stared at Liam for a long time; emotions and thoughts battling each other. He saw the worry etched on Liam’s face but also concern. Spike believed for the first time that Liam truly cared for him and wanted him in his life. Suddenly he heard the voice that taunted him; told him he was scum and un…unlovable. Liam was right; he listened to the suspicions and let them make him feel worthless. Liam had been honest with him. Liam was going to therapy. He smirked. “Okay, ponce. But I ain’t talkin’ about my toilet training.”
Liam’s face cleared and he began to laugh. He hugged Spike to him tightly and they stayed together for several minutes until Spike’s stomach growled. Liam leaned back. “You must be starving! Go get a shower. I’m taking you to Agostino’s for some pasta!”
*************************
At the restaurant, Liam ordered three different pasta dishes and Spike sampled them all - vigorously. The chef came out from the kitchen when he heard about the slender young man, stuffing himself with his specially made dishes. The two men exited the restaurant sated and a bit buzzed from the wine. Liam noticed the moon was full and bright. He drove to the beach in Larchmont and they got out and walked across the sand. They stopped to watch the waves crashing onto the sand. Liam wrapped his arms around Spike and rested his chin on the soft light brown curls.
“Shall we go to the city tomorrow? Do you want to see a play? I’ve heard that Wicked is really great.”
Spike spun around a huge smile creasing his thin face. “Yeah! Saw pictures of that on the internet. It’s about the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz - except she’s not really wicked.”
“I’ll call Mrs. Jenkins tomorrow morning. Make sure Mac and Bella are okay. We can stay in the city for a few days.”
Spike had not stopped grinning. He gave Liam a quick kiss before he stepped away and began to dance down the beach singing in a high voice, “Ding dong the Witch is dead, Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Ding dong the Wicked Witch is Dead!”
Liam laughed until his cheeks were wet with happy tears.
*************************
They drove into New York the next morning. Liam had arranged for a suite at The Michelangelo Hotel on West 51st Street. They checked in and immediately went to the Empire State Building because Spike had seen it in Sleepless in Seattle and King Kong. They visited Greenwich Village, which had been an artistic haven since the 1920’s. Jackson Pollack, Willem de Kooning and Andy Warhol all spent time working and socializing in the many cafes that dotted its streets and alleys. Mark Twain, Walt Whitman and Edgar Allan Poe rented rooms and did some writing and drinking. They hurried back to the hotel to shower and change for dinner at La Grenoville. Spike was not impressed.
“The food’s okay - bit oozy. I liked Agostino’s better. These waiters are too…snooty.”
Liam could barely contain his laughter. The restaurant was one of the most famous and expensive restaurants in the city. They took a cab to the theatre. Spike was mesmerized by the production of Wicked. Liam watched him almost as much as he watched the musical. After another cab ride, they arrived back at their hotel. Spike was visibly exhausted. He leaned heavily against Liam in the elevator and collapsed fully clothed on the bed. Liam went in to shower. He had just rinsed the soap out of his hair when the glass door opened and a grinning, naked Spike walked in nonchalantly. He turned his back on Liam and bent over to pick up a bottle of shampoo. He knew full well what the sight of his ass would do to Liam. He grinned to himself and began to wash.
Liam stood frozen - all except his cock - which hardened immediately at the sight of Spike’s pale ass as he washed and stretched.
Spike stepped back and pressed his body into Liam’s. He felt the larger man’s hardened cock but he spoke matter of factly. “Hey, Liam, can you wash my back for me?”
Liam woke out of his salacious reverie and soaped Spike’s back as he washed his hair. Spike turned around and with his eyes closed, stood directly under the shower head, letting the water slide seductively over his skin. Liam had enough teasing. He stepped in and pressed close to Spike, who opened his eyes and grinned.
“Wanted to see how long ya could resist me, Liam.” He said smirking.
Liam stared for a moment at Spike’s lovely mischievous face and then pushed off the shower. In one swift movement, he lifted the smaller man up, grabbed a towel from the heated rack and carried him into the bedroom. He dropped Spike onto the center of the enormous bed and knelt over him and began to pat him dry. He said nothing and his face did not give a clue to what he was feeling. Spike’s cock was already stiff, but Liam ignored it and just patted it dry like the rest of his body.
Spike was getting a bit nervous. Did he misread Liam? Suddenly Liam stopped drying and lay down between Spike’s legs and swallowed his previously neglected cock down to the root. Spike arched off the bed as Liam sucked hard and fingered his hole. He was lost in the sensual sensation and couldn’t control himself. He erupted into Liam’s mouth.
Liam took him all, wiped his mouth and then lay his body across Spike’s. He grinned. “About as long as you can resist me.”
Chapter 12