Waiting 6b/7
Well, I'm back again with another chapter. I hope that you all like it.
Title: Waiting
Author: Soulseeker Rating: NC17 for language, slash, and dark theme.
Summary: Can Spike go on without his love?
Pairing: Spike/Xander implied. Spike/Angel
Part: 5b/7
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes, language and sexual content
Feedback: Yes, it gives me the warm and fuzzys.
Disclaimers: I owe nothing. I just got a new job and I don't even get paid until the next month.
Sorry it's kinda short.
Previously in Waiting:
So in tune with Spike’s emotion, Angel felt the soul crushing grief that his question caused. If he hadn’t needed a verbal conformation to be sure, that feeling pouring out of his Childe would convince anybody that it was true. However, Spike’s whispered answer startled him so badly that he was unable to speak.
“No.”
Angel felt like celebrating. His boy was not mated. He didn’t have to die. The larger vampire was just about to hug Spike with glee when he noticed that the blond vampire was shaking again. Angel’s sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of Spike’s tears hitting the mattress. His elation died a quick death. Just because Spike and Xander hadn’t mated, didn’t mean that he was home free. Spike was still grieving and unless he managed to move both of them past this, his Childe might still take a walk in the sun.
Angel reached out to sooth the blond curls, but withdrew his hand. He didn’t know what to do now. The dark haired vampire had never been good at giving comfort, unless it was to serve his own purposes. When he had been human and his mother died, he had been unable to console his own little sister. When Joyce died, he’d been awkward and ill at ease with Buffy. He never seemed to know the right things to do or say and now he was afraid of screwing this up badly. The last thing he needed was to alienate Spike any further. Angel decided to go with the next question on his mental list. Spike’s answer could give him some type of clue as how to proceed next.
“Didn’t you want Xander as your mate?”
Spike finally whipped around to face Angel. The fury shown through the tears, turning them into silvery pearls of angry sadness.
“Of course I want him as my mate, you jackass! I love him more then anyone in my entire existence! He’s my sunlight, my soul. He’s the only one who truly loves me. I didn’t . . .”
Spike trailed off as the bleak look came into his eyes again and he seemed lost in thought. Angel got up and heated up another bag of blood. He wondered if Spike realized that he spoke in present tense when he talked about Xander. He talked like he was still alive and Angel began to wonder if Spike had become slightly unhinged at this point or if it was just merely a slip of the tongue at the stress his questions caused. The bag had finished heating and he handed it to Spike. The blond vampire drained it without fuss and that bag joined it’s twin on the floor. Angel resisted the urge to clean again.
Angel took a long hard look at Spike. Despite the drug and spell induced comas, his Childe looked like he hadn’t slept in months. Which, in hindsight, was true when he remembered the nightmare he’d witnessed and the rapid fire report that Fred had given him. The adrenaline rush and the crying jag left Spike with subtle tremors running through him. His blue eyes were blood shot and swollen. Angel could still count every rib in his body and read the protruding backbone as if it were Braille. Hadn’t he put on any weight at all? Spike’s chest was moving in stress related breathing and Angel thought that he looked like a junkie coming down from a high and looking for his next fix. His face though, his face looked like a sad and lost little boy who didn’t know who to turn to next.
Angel decided to hold off further questions and try to get Spike to rest a little more. He gathered up the covers and placed them over Spike, covering up his naked body. He was about to tuck them securely under his small chin when Spike flinched and a distrustful look came into his eyes. Angel almost became angry at that expression. For God’s sake, he was trying to be nice to Spike and here was his Childe looking at him as if he was going to take an axe to him. After a moment of reflection that left him sick to his stomach, he realized that Spike had a right to look at him like that. When the hell had Angel, or Angelus, ever been nice to him without a hidden motive?
“Just close your eyes Spike.”
A look of horror flirted though those blue eyes before it was masked and Angel wondered at that. Did Spike think that he’d force himself on him? After all, he didn’t have the best rack record in not taking advantage of the blond.
“I just want you to sleep, Spike. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you.”
Still the same look peeked though the blank expression and Spike visibly tensed. Angel was still puzzled. He’d assured Spike that he wasn’t going to be molested in his sleep, so what was the problem? It was almost as if he was afraid to go to sleep. Angel mentally slapped himself in the head when he remembered the nightmares. Of course Spike wouldn’t want to sleep if he knew that he’d have a witness to his night terrors.
“Look, ummm . . . I have some things to do, so you just get some sleep. I’ll check on you later, ok?”
Spike silently nodded and watched Angel leave the room before he fell into a restless sleep. The last thought running though his mind was that he hated to sleep without Xander.
Angel sat on the floor in front of the door. He really hadn’t been lying. He did have something to do while Spike slept. Guard duty. The very second that he hears Spike having a nightmare, he was going to be in that room, making enough noise to pull his Childe back to wakefulness. Maybe Spike would be grouchy and insulting. Major improvement in his current mood. Or maybe he’ll crawl back into his lap like he did before. Angel dismissed that fantasy. The last time he did that, he thought that Angel was Xander. He was trying to pull Spike out of this downward spiral, not push him over the edge.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The ally was dark and he needed to take a shortcut to the Magic Box. He was already late for the meeting and Giles always got in a snit if someone was late. Especially him.
He wondered for the thousandth time why he’d thrown his lot in with the Scooby Gang. Oh yes, now he remembered. Men in white lab coats made sure he couldn’t have fun tearing out human throats anymore. At least there was blood at the shop and he could nick some money from the register for smokes and beer.
He never took much, just a little so that Rupert or Anya thought there was an over-ring somewhere. Although, neither of them would ever admit to making a mistake so his little thievery has gone unnoticed for now. He stopped in the middle of the ally when a stray observation struck him. It seemed to him that every time he edged around to the register, everyone either found somewhere else to be or had their backs to him.
Were they allowing him to steal? They knew he’d never accept charity from them. Bribery and blackmail, yes, but not charity. He still had his pride after all. Not much by the way things had been going lately, but by letting him steal takes all the fun out of it.
However, he begins to grin, maybe he should up his take. After all, he wants to take the money, they want him to take it, so a little, or a lot, extra should teach the humans not to play a Master vampire. Whistling a bit, he began to start walking again, mentally trying to figure out how much dosh he could take before someone squawked about it.
Turning left, he nearly walked into a brick wall. Damn it! That wasn’t there last week. Now he’ll have to go around and waste even more time. The Watcher won’t just be in a snit, he’ll be prissy about it too.
He could have easily jumped it, but he didn’t know what was on the other side. Could be garbage, could be castoff lumber. With his luck he’ll end up staking himself instead of smelling like an unwashed bum.
Turning around and grumbling, he was almost half-way out of the ally before his way was blocked by five large shapes. They were human by the vibes they gave off and drunk by the smell of alcohol pouring off them.
He stood still as alarms of danger clanged in his mind. Tendrils of fear danced down his spine and it took everything he had not to panic and run. For a very long minute they stood and stared at each other. Then, one of them moved into the moonlight and he could see that he was just a boy, younger then the whelp. A large boy, but still someone who should yield to a person of age and authority.
Walking nearer, he injected both calmness and threat into his voice. He wasn’t able to physically hurt them, but he could still sound like he might if he wasn’t obeyed. Fucking chip saw that it was all that he could do against humans. Still, he had to try something because underneath the smell of beer and hostility, a tiny smell of arousal was beginning to bloom from all of them. Bloody hell, not this again! If he wanted to get out of this with his pants still zipped, he had to use his head and do it now.
“If you would excuse me, I have somewhere else I need to be.”
The five boys just grinned and closed ranks, cutting him off from escape. He couldn’t go through them without setting off the chip and he couldn’t get past them without one of them on the end shoving him against a wall, trapping him against a hard body and even harder brick wall. The situation caused a flashback to a similar standoff. There had been five of them too, thanks to Angelus’ little lesson. He’s as helpless now as he was then. Anger and fear warred with each other, fighting for dominance. Anger won and he shot off one of his famous smart mouthed responses.
“Look, why don’t you little kiddies nip off back home to your mommies? I’m a man with important things to do.”
One of the hulking youths spoke from the darkness, his voice was full of menace and promises of violence.
“We don’t like foreigners. We’ll teach you to come into our country and steal jobs from hard working Americans!”
He was tempted to tell them that the only things he’s stolen was money and stuff to hock for money. But before he could utter a word, one of the boys reached for him. He lashed out in instinct, forgetting that they were human; weak pathetic children who should have been cowering at his feet, begging for mercy. He didn’t see five walking Happy Meals whose balls have just dropped, but
The joy he felt when his hard fist hit a jaw was short lived when the chip sent it’s sharp needle - like pains of electricity running though his head. He fell to his knees, howling through gritted teeth, hands clutching his head against the jackhammer of pain. And through the ringing in his ears and the echoes of his own screaming, he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down. He screamed again, this time in fear and tried to fight the hands holding him down, despite the lingering pain of the chip. One of the boys spoke, his voice oddly familiar.
instead he saw the five demons sent to drive home a hard lesson. He wouldn’t be taken like that again!
“Look at me, William! Open your eyes and look at me!”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Spike jerked awake and found Angel’s hands holding him down. Frightened blue eyes stared into brown before the larger vampire released him and backed off. Spike couldn’t believe that one of his worst fears had just come true. Angel had witnessed a nightmare. He refused to look at the dark brown eyes, automatically rejecting the pity that he was sure was reflected in them. His slim body trembled from the aftermath of the night terror and he turned away from his Sire. He didn’t want or need Angel pitying him. Xander never pitied him. Xander held him and rocked him, covering his hair with kisses until he went back to sleep. Or let him rant and rave if he felt like it.
Spike curled up again and covered himself up. He refused to cry over this, he’d been humiliated enough already. The last thing he wanted was to look weak, especially with him here. He felt a hand on his shoulder and tiredly told him not to touch him.
The hand withdrew and he felt Angel leave the mattress. Spike didn’t want Angel, or anyone, to touch him. If he wanted to be touched, he wanted Xander to do it. But Xander wasn’t here anymore and a fresh wave of despair washed over him.
Angel got up and walked over to fix yet another bag of blood. He thought about what just happened. He’d been sitting outside the door for a good couple of hours before the sounds of a distressed Spike reached his ears. Ripping open the door, he was greeted by the sight of his Childe gripped in another nightmare. It looked almost like the one he’d witnessed before. Spike was gasping, flinching from some dream attacker. Then he suddenly curled up into a tight ball, clutched his head with both hands and screamed at the top of his lungs. He seemed to go on forever as Angel forced his body out of the tight ball and onto his back. Shaking him by the shoulders, Angel called out Spike’s name, but the agonized blond didn’t respond. It wasn’t until after he called him William that the smaller vampire suddenly opened his eyes and stared sightlessly at him for the first few moments.
And then Spike began to withdraw, first with his eyes and then his body followed. Angel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and that’s when Spike finally spoke.
“Don’t touch me.”
His Childe’s voice sounded old; beaten down and old. Angel wished that there had been anger or hatred in his statement. Instead, there had been no heat, no menace, no anything that would have made sure that he’d be obeyed. And then Angel felt the now familiar feelings of oppressive sadness coming form the blond and he had to move away. Move away before he gave into the temptation to either hug or strangle Spike.
Angel took the now heated bag over to Spike and held it out. The younger vamp ignored it and this time Angel let him. There was no reason to push food right now and maybe he’ll voluntarily feed later. Not making a fuss and letting the subject of proper nourishment drop, Angel tried to get some answers out of the overly slim blond. Sitting down at the foot of the mattress, Angel maneuvered himself so that he could see Spike’s face.
“What was the nightmare about?”
Spike gritted his teeth and remained silent. No way in Hell was he going to discuss any of his dreams with the likes of Angel. It was bad enough to relive that night in his dreams for months without discussing them with a male version of Oprah. There wasn’t enough Holy Water in existence for him to admit that a bunch of children fucked him like he was fresh meat in a bad prison porno movie. But Angel just had to push it.
“Was it about the Initiative?”
Wide blue eyes stared in Angel in shock. Angel cursed himself for causing that look. The frighten blond wondered how Angel knew about those dreams about the lab. He continued to stare in mute horror, terrified of what the older vampire knew. Beyond the dreams of Xander’s death, the ones about the labs were the most recurring and disorientating. They always took him from his warm and safe place to a place full of cold white walls and even colder men in lab coats.
Angel saw the look of stark terror take over those beautiful blue eyes and wanted to weep at the sight. He shouldn’t have asked that question, he knew that now, but he’d only wanted to know how to help. Apparently he did the wrong thing by Spike’s reaction.
“How . . . how do you know about that dream?”
Spike’s voice sounded small and shaky. Angel frantically wracked his brains, trying to figure out how to tell the truth and still leave his Childe his dignity. He was sure that the unvarnished truth about him witnessing that particular nightmare, plus the fact that Spike had thought that he was Xander, the crippling humiliation would be too much. He’d never get another word out of the distressed blond again.
“I talked to Giles soon after you got here. I wanted to know what happened to you after you escaped from the lab. I needed to know if you had been this depressed before. He told me that Xander came to see him soon after you’d moved in with him in the basement. He told Giles about the nightmares. That’s how I know.”
Angel mentally crossed his fingers. What he said was the truth, just not the whole truth. He wondered if Spike could tell if he was holding something back. He watched as those fear filled blue eyes softened at the mention of Xander’s name. Angel wondered if he’d ever receive that look himself. He watched as his Childe turned his back on him again, covering himself up and shutting out Angel and the rest of the world. Angel tried once again to communicate.
“If it wasn’t about the Initiative, what was it about?”
Frozen silence was the only answer he got.
“It might help if you talked to someone about it.”
A soft and muffled voice came from the covers.
“I told Xander about all of them. He knows and he’s the only one who knows.”
If Angel hadn’t been so intent on getting Spike out of this depth of despair, he would’ve thrown something heavy against the wall in a fit of jealousy at the mention of that name. Xander seemed to be the only thing the blond willingly talked about. ‘I love Xander, Xander loves me, Xander left and never came back, Xander’s clothes are all I need, Xander, Xander, Xander’, fucking Xander all the fucking time! Didn’t Spike realize that this was killing himself on the inside? Didn’t he realize that he was killing Angel with this? Didn’t he know that there were other people in the world that loved him besides that damn Xander fucking Harris?! If Xander was so fucking wonderful, why hadn’t they mated? That thought stopped Angel in mid mental rant. In fact, Spike never did say why they didn’t mate. And like a pit bull scenting fresh blood, Angel went in for the kill. So to speak.
“When I asked you earlier why you hadn’t taken Xander as your mate, you didn’t finish your sentence. What were you going to say?”
There was a long silence from Spike before he abruptly got up. He felt restless for some reason, as if he were preparing for battle. He just didn’t realize how close to the mark he was with that observation. The skinny blond draped a sheet over himself like a toga; being naked in front of Angel made him feel like a wounded antelope in front of a lion. And with the way Angel had looked at him before tempted him to check to see if he had any blood on him. He backed up a few paces and eyed the dark haired vampire with some trepidation. What was Angel’s game now?
“I didn’t ask him. That’s what I was going to say.”
Angel watched his Childe from his seat on the mattress. Spike seemed nervous, skittish almost. In order not to frighten him and to give him some small sense of control, Angel stayed right where he was. The larger vampire was slightly puzzled by his Childe’s answer. What, exactly did Spike mean by that?
“Why didn’t you ask him? Did you run out of time?”
Spike hung his head, hiding his face. He wasn’t sure why he continued to answer Angel’s question, but he felt compelled to tell the truth. The answer was quiet, but determined.
“No, I didn’t run out of time. I wasn’t going to ask him, ever. Now will you get off my back about it?”
Angel sensed the potential panic threatening to eat away at Spike. What was he afraid of? His mind chased that line of thought. As long as he’d known Spike, he couldn’t really say what could scare the blond to an almost panic flight. The only thing that Spike had never really handled well was rejection.
Was that it? Had he been afraid that Xander would’ve rejected his proposal to mate? His whole existence told Angel that that was the answer. The first time Spike had been rejected was when he was mortal and that bitch Cicily humiliated him. That was the night he ran from that party and met Dru. In Angel’s opinion, the stupid cunt didn’t deserve a beautiful and sensitive boy like William. The second rejection was by Angelus and that was the time that Spike was born. Angel regretted that every second after he’d been given his soul back. The third rejection had been from Dru. After over a century of being together, taking care of his crazed Sire and loving her, Dru dropped him like garbage for sliding with the Slayer. Another fault to be lain at Angelus’ feet. And here was Xander, Spike’s one and only true love. Angel knew what would’ve happened if there was a fourth and final rejection. His Childe would’ve been utterly and completely devastated; even fatally. Spike must not have wanted to chance it.
The larger vampire sensed that he should pull back. He wanted to pull back, but some part of him knew that if he did that, Spike would just clam up again. The purpose for this little two man party was for Spike to either heal or dust, and Angel refused to chicken out.
“You didn’t ask him because you were afraid that he’ll say no.”
The blond head snapped up and twin blue flames of anger shot at Angel.
“Don’t you ever say that! Never say that! Xander loves me! He would’ve said yes in the next heat beat if I asked him. Never doubt that for a second! I didn’t ask him because I was afraid that he’ll say no! I was afraid he would’ve said yes!”
“Huh?”
Real brilliant, Angel told himself. Now he was even more confused then ever. Wouldn’t having Xander say yes make Spike even happier? After all, he could’ve spent a century or two with the boy. And if Spike had turned him, they would’ve spent an eternity with each other if luck was on their side. Seeing the puzzlement, Spike clarified himself.
“Xander would’ve said yes and we both would’ve been ecstatic with each other for centuries. But I couldn’t do that to him. He loved his friends so much and watching him watch them die would’ve been too much for the both of us. Xander would’ve stayed young and strong and healthy while the rest of then grew older and weaker and sicker. He wouldn’t have resented me for extending his life, but he would’ve missed his friends. I can’t stand to see him sad.”
Spike backed up until he hit the wall and then slowly slid down. He felt drained, but still he talked on. He lifted his large blue eyes and stared at Angel.
“He used to talk about growing old. About moving into a nursing home with the rest of the Scoobies. He used to joke that he’d chase me around in his walker and tell all the other old geezers that I was just after his body. And Willow and Tara would be there, trying to start a spell, but they’ll forget the words half-way through. And the Slayer would threaten to stake me with her cane, but she wouldn’t be able to see me through her coke-bottle glasses. Dawn would come hobbling in and talking about the hot 65 year old guy that just moved into the room next to hers. Even Giles would be there, napping in the corner after falling asleep over a book, deaf as a fence post. Although how he managed to live that long, Xander never said. But they were all there, the whole gang, together. And when the time came for him to . . . when his time came, I was suppose to be at his side, holding his hand. He made me promise not to leave him alone, but I wasn’t there for him. He’s gone and I never got to hold his hand. I wanted to hold his hand.”
Spike’s voice broke and he lapsed into silence, curling himself into a ball. Angel watched as he started to rock, lost in tortured memories. Angel felt something tickle his cheek and reached for it. His fingers came away wet and he stared at them. He hadn’t even realized that he’d started crying, the pain his Childe was going through was terrible. He learned a few new things about his Childe this day. When Spike loved, he loved deeply and Xander’s death ripped a huge hole in his heart. They might not have done the mating ritual, but for all intents and purposes, they had mated.
A few things suddenly occurred to Angel like a bolt of lightening. Spike never actually said that Xander was dead. He searched his memories, trying to remember the few sentences that he’d been able to drag out of the blond before this. ‘Xander’s gone, Xander’s left, Xander went away, his time to go’. He’d certainly never said the words ‘Xander’s dead’. Angel doubted if Spike had even thought those words. The blond even talked about him in present tense. It was as if Spike expected Xander to come strolling in after going to the grocery store. And Spike’s hope that it might happen like that was killing him.
Angel had to make Spike say those words, for both their sakes. Kneeling in front of Spike, he forced him to come out from behind his wall of pain. Large hands dug painfully into thin shoulders, anchoring them both in the realm of reality. After getting the blond to look at him, Angel firmly stated,
“Xander’s dead.”
Big blue eyes blinked and then shied away. His voice was hesitate and unsure as to exactly what Angel wanted.
“I know that.”
“Then say it.”
“What?” A soft startled voice.
Angel shook him hard, forcing Spike to look at him again. There was a look in those deep blue eyes that Angel couldn’t figure out. Fear. But fear of what and why? The larger vampire was determined to drag that fear into the light. It was the only was to banish it. An Irish lilt crept into his voice.
“Say the words, Childe. Say Xander’s dead.”
“No.” Spike had a stubborn mulish expression on his face. That didn’t deter Angel though.
“Aye! Ye’ mus’, lad!”
“No!”
“Say them! Ye’ hav’ ta’.”
“No!!”
“Why canno’ ye’ say them?”
Angel shook the thin body until Spike’s teeth rattled.
“Cause then they’ll be true.”
Spike’s voice came out in a heart broken whisper. He couldn’t say those words. If he refused to say them, to believe that Xander was truly gone from him, then he still had hope and another chance to live with his beloved. But if he said those awful words, then Xander would be lost to him forever. And then he’ll be left with nothing. He couldn’t go through that again.
Angel hugged the slim blond to him, tucking the fair head under his chin. This was the final push, he knew. This one last big hurtle and then maybe Spike would begin to heal.
“It’s true, lad. Xander’s dead and he can’t come back ta’ ye for all tha’ wishes in tha’ world. He’ll never touch ye’, never kiss ye’, never make love ta’ ye’ again. He’ll never smile or tell another awful joke. He’ll never eat another extra large pizza by himself or steal the snow peas off yer’ Chinese plate ever again. He’s gone, William. Let him finally rest in peace. Let him go!”
Spike felt the struggle to believe began to fade as reality came crashing down like a ton of bricks. He realized then that he was tired. Tired of hoping, tired of fighting, tired of everything. He knew that the other vampire would never stop hounding him until he did what Angel wanted. And what did it matter, anyway in the end? Xander was gone and never coming back. Spike’s heart shattered for the final time as he thought those words. Spike’s voice was dull and toneless as he did what Angel demanded.
“He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!!!!”
Spike’s voice started in a whisper and the more he said those damning words, the louder he got. Angel hugged him tighter and the screaming blond began to struggle. Fury and anger poured out of him and Spike longed to hit something. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fucking fair! Xander left him alone when he swore never to do that to him. Left him to his night terrors and insecurities. Left him to empty arms around him when he watched t.v. Left him to eat alone at an empty table. Xander threw away his life for some fucking human and left him alone again. Why was he always left behind?
Angel held his Childe, letting him vent all of his emotions. He hardened his own resolve as Spike’s heart-brokenly screamed out the words that had been buried inside of him for much too long. The screaming broke off but the struggling didn’t. Angel held him tighter as a new phase was muttered. It took a few minutes for him to understand what the tightly clinched jaw was saying. And when he did, he wondered if the words were meant for himself or Xander.
“I hate ‘em, I hate ‘em, I hate ‘em! He’s dead and he left me alone and I hate ‘em!!”
Ah, now Angel understood. Anger at Xander was good at this point. Wasn’t it one of the stages of grief? Denial, bartering, anger, depression, acceptance. The blond had done plenty of denial, in fact, he’d become an expert in the field. Bartering - Angel remembered that Willow had mentioned that Spike asked her to do the same resurrection spell she did for Buffy. Depression - Spike brought that emotion to a whole new level. And now it was anger’s turn; and Spike had a lot of anger to vent. Acceptance will have to come later, how much later he didn’t know. But once done, his Childe will finally begin to heal and move on. That is, if he was willing to live.
Spike broke off his rant and began to sob. Great, gut wrenching sobs. His failing fists begun to grow weaker and weaker until he fisted them in Angel’s shirt. The blond head rested against the abused chest and Spike clung to the larger vampire as all his heartbreak flowed from his tears. Spike was finally, finally crying for Xander. Angel began to rock Spike in his arms, holding the thin frame tightly. He started to hum an old Irish lullaby that his mother used to sing to him as a boy.
“Let it out, Childe. Let it all out.”
And Spike did, crying for hours on end. He cried until he thought that he used up all his tears and then he cried some more. On and on it went until he was nothing but a limp, hurting rag. Every emotion, every scar he carried around inside, laid open and exposed, raw and bleeding. When Angel noticed that Spike was beginning to blink with exhaustion, he carefully picked him up and carried him back to the mattress. Spike clung to him like a frighten child, refusing to let him go. So, Angel arranged them both on their sides, facing each other and once more tucked the slim blond’s head under his chin. Spike yawned and the cool breath tickled Angel’s neck as he spoke.
“Why does it hurt so much, Angel? My heart doesn’t beat and I have no soul. So, why does it hurt so much?”
“I don’t know why, Spike. I want you to close you eyes and go to sleep.”
“Don’t leave me!” Spike’s voice was desperate and his hand’s gripped Angel’s shirt tighter. Angel hurriedly reassured him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
But Spike continued to talk, trying to drive off the darkness closing in on him.
“Can’t you stop the hurt?”
“I wish I could, Childe. But I don’t know how.”
“You’re the Sire. You’re suppose to know everything.”
“I don’t know everything, Childe. Now get some sleep. I won’t leave you.”
“If you knew how, would you tell me?”
“Aye, I would do anything for you, my love. But you must sleep. That’s an order.”
Big blue eyes blinked twice and the long tear soaked lashes fluttered closed for the final time. There was one last deep sigh before the breathing ceased and the tightly gripping hands went totally slack. Angel pulled the limp body even closer and ran his fingers through the tousled hair. He realized that what he said was true. He’d do anything to take away Spike’s suffering and torment. Everything but selling his soul to the highest bidder. He’d sooner dust himself then to let Angelus have another crack at his boy. He also wondered if Spike noticed his little slip of endearment. Spike might never love him back, but he just might let him become a close friend. And Angel knew that it might not happen if Spike thought that Angel might mistake an act of simple friendship and blow it all out of proportion. The older vampire wouldn’t risk that. If a friend is all that Spike would allow, then he’ll take whatever he could get.
Spike moaned and whimpered in his sleep, fingers automatically clutching Angel’s shirt. Angel softly crooned to him and ran his fingers though the blond’s soft hair. After a few minutes, the smaller vampire relaxed back into sleep. Angel continued to stroke him as if he was a favorite cat and thought. Ok, so he brooded a bit. It was one of the things he was famous for. Spike had begun to open up to him a little. Alright, so it was forced, but he’ll take anything right now. Spike had a long and uphill battle, but he could heal. If he wanted to. Angel had to marvel at his Childe. Spike had such love and devotion for Xander that his death might as well have included him. Angel wondered what it might be like to be on the receiving end of that. He might never know and that was a depressing thought.
T.B.C.