Waiting 6c/7
Well, I'm back again with another chapter. I hope that you all like it. I know that ya’ll are puzzled by the 6c part, but I couldn’t cut it into two parts.
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: 6c/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.
Waiting pt. 6
Previously in Waiting:
Angel had to marvel at his Childe. Spike had such love and devotion for Xander that his death might as well included him. He wondered what it might be like to be on the receiving end of that. He might never know and that was a depressing thought.
Spike sleepily opened his eyes. He was still tired and wasn’t sure why he was waking up. There was a blur of black and white in front of him and he blinked hard to bring his eyes into focus. The black was a silk shirt and the white was Angel’s neck. He remembered then that he wasn’t with Xander, but was with Angel. Not wanting to face the larger vampire, Spike rolled over until his back was to Angel. There was silence and a hand crept over and begun to softly stroke his hair. Spike gave a bittersweet smile at that. Xander so loved doing that. A deep voice sounded above him.
"How do you feel?”
Spike heaved a deep sigh and thought about it. How did he feel? Tired? Yes, incredibly tired. Angry? No, not anymore. Sad, grief-stricken numbness? Surprisingly, no. In fact he felt empty, devoid of all emotions, nothing there whatsoever. He knew that he should be worried, but he could dredge up the energy. This nothing had swallowed him whole while he wasn’t looking and he didn’t ever care if he never felt anything again. So, he told the truth.
“I feel tired and empty. There’s nothing left of me.”
The soothing strokes never missed a beat as Angel thought about his Childe. Was this right? Tired he could understand, maybe even empty. But Spike was wrong when he said that there was nothing left of himself. There was plenty of him left, it was just up to Angel to show him.
“As long as you’re not dust Spike, there’s plenty left in you.”
Spike didn’t like that way the conversation was turning and said the first thing that popped into his mind.
“‘S feels nice. Xander likes . . . liked to do that.”
The hand retracted and curiously Spike felt the loss of contact. He also smelled the faint whiff of jealousy. Angel jealous of Xander? It didn’t seem possible, so Spike dismissed that thought as an overactive imagination. Groping behind him, he located Angel’s hand and returned it to his head, positioning it so the palm was behind his right ear and the fingers fanned out.
“There. It has to be there. I didn’t mean for you to stop, ya’ know.”
“I don’t want to bring up any bad memories.”
“Thinking of Xander doesn’t bring up bad memories. He would never be a bad memory.”
The gentle stroking continued and Anger became puzzled. He’d gotten a wave of sadness off of Spike at the mention of Xander, but not the usual crushing grief. Also, Spike was letting him touch him instead of pulling away or striking out. What did this mean? Angel let his hand stray and a thin hand reached up and captured it, bringing it back to it’s desired position.
“Why here, Spike? Why this particular spot?”
Spike considered for a moment before speaking.
“We think that’s where the chip is located. Anyway, that’s where it mostly hurts when it goes off. And that’s where the headaches strike.”
“Headaches? From the chip going off?”
Spike shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “No, they just hit sometimes. Mostly in the middle of the day when I’m sleeping. Sometimes they’re so bad the sound of Xander’s heartbeat is painful. Can’t sleep or feed when they hit me. Xander was trying to get a hold of that wanker Riley. He was starting to worry that the chip was malfunctioning and wanted to get some answers. Doesn’t matter now anyway. Xander left . . . died . . . before he could get through to anybody. Don’t tell the birds though. We didn’t want to worry them.”
Angel was stunned. And then furious. That piece of hardware in his Childe’s head was an abomination. Yes, it prevented him for killing humans, but it also made him helpless to defend himself. And now he was being hurt for no reason. It might even be slowly killing him. Angel vowed to put Wes and Gunn on Riley’s track. If there was a chance to turn it off or remove it, they needed to take it. Angel filed that thought way to pursue later. If there was a later for Spike. Encouraged by the new openness that the blond was displaying, Angel tried to keep the conversation going.
“Tell me about Xander.”
Spike dislodged the hand on his temple when he turned his head around and stared at Angel. There was a faintly amused tone in his voice.
“Tall, dark, gorgeous, hated your guts, called you Dead Boy. I believe you two met.”
Angel let out a sigh of frustration, but was secretly pleased. Sarcastic Spike; if anyone had ever told him that he would miss Spike’s sarcasm he’d laugh himself silly before he staked them.
“I know about Xander the boy. Tell me about Xander the man.”
“Why?” Suspicion laced the younger vampire’s voice.
“He was important to you. And no trying to change the topic. Talk.”
Spike turned back around and Angel resumed the scalp massage. He knew this would be painful for his Childe, but he needed to let his feeling out even more. Maybe if he understood what attracted him to Xander, he could better understand his Childe. For several minutes there was nothing as Spike struggled to put his thoughts in order.
“He was the kindest man I’ve ever met. He literally gave me the shirt off his back. He made me feel warm inside with a simple smile. He treated me like a man and not a monster. Treated me like I was special, he did. Did things for me and never expected anything back, not even a thank you. And he didn’t just do it to get into my pants, so you can just get that out of your skull, Angel. He loved me.”
“I know.”
That seemed to be the last straw for Spike. He got up and began to pace, fist clinched and fury in his eyes. All Angel could do was stay where he was as the blond began to shout at him.
“You don’t fucking know anything Angel! What do you know about love?! Nothing! And don’t you open your pie-hole and say Buffy! If you’d loved the chit you wouldn’t have left her. And no bullshit about it being for the best or for some higher calling! If you’d loved her, really loved her, you would’ve found a way to be with her, curse or no curse! Xander told me that she cried for two months after you left. She cried every day for two whole months! She’s the sodding Slayer, she’s not suppose to cry over some over-gelled bastard like you! Xander accepted me for who and what I am! He never tried to change me, never picked at my faults. He loved me for me! No one’s ever did that before, ever! Cecily didn’t love me because I wasn’t rich enough. Dru only loved her wicked little boy and when I made that deal with Buffy, she dropped me like I had a cross around my neck. Darla only wanted me around so that she could have somebody to punish. Angelus, ha, Angelus not only rejected my love, but he only wanted to turn me into the same kind of sick fucker that he was! And as for you, Angel, I know what you want, don’t think I don’t! When you got that soul and told me you loved me, I knew better. You didn’t want me, you wanted what I used to be. Poor, pathetic William who couldn’t write a good poem to save his life! That’s who you wanted! But Xander . . . Xander wanted me just the way I am.”
Spike stopped pacing and slid down the wall, hugging himself and looking so lost and alone. Angel finally got up and sat close, careful not to touch him even though the only thought running through his head was to comfort the blond. Spike continued, his voice now quiet and oddly shy.
“Shortly after I moved in with him, but before we got together, he took my duster and had it dry cleaned; got demon guts all over it. He went through the pockets to make sure that nothing would get damaged and he found my list.”
When Spike fell silent to the memory, Angel prompted him.
“What list, Spike.”
“The list I made of all the people I was going to kill once I had this chip out.”
There was a long dead silence. Angel didn’t know whether to explode with anger or laughter. He instantly knew that laughter would only serve to drive a deeper wedge between them. Spike was communicating with him now, Angel wouldn’t do anything to stop that. Anger would similarly drive that same wedge deeper. He didn’t really have the right to be angry at Spike. The blond always seemed to find a way to do things that he wanted, whether it made somebody angry or not.
“You . . . you made a list of people you wanted to kill?”
Restless again, Spike got up and began to pace.
“Yeah, I did! Every slight, every cruel taunt, every hurt somebody did to me . . . I put them on the list. It was very detailed, too. I put down what I was going to do to them and why. You were on the list. Number one, actually.”
Spike peeked at Angel and got a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, don’t look so smug. I had it listed alphabetically, so don’t let your ego get any bigger. Everybody was on it except for Joyce, Nibblet, and Glinda.”
“Glinda?”
“Red’s girl.”
“Oh.” Angel supposed that it made sense. Spike always had a fondness for giving nicknames. Some were flattering, others weren’t. Spike stopped pacing and faced a wall. He rested his head against it and was muttering, but Angel had no trouble understanding him.
“What did you expect me to do, Peaches? I can’t so much as trip a human without this bloody chip zapping me. Can’t hunt, can’t feed, can’t even fucking defend myself against sodding children. It’s like arming bloody Bambi with an Uzi. Had to do something to keep from going around the bloody bend, didn’t I? At least the list was harmless, couldn’t get hurt from making a list. And it was my way of dealing with everything. Get all the blood and mayhem outta my system so I wouldn’t be tempted to electrocute myself going after one of the Scoobies. I had to . . . had to go to them for protection. Do you know how humiliating that is? Do you have any idea how degrading it is to ask sodding toddlers to feed and protect me? I’m at the top of the food chain, I shouldn’t have to go to the food for help! They’re the ones who’s suppose to run in terror from me, not the other way around. You have no idea what it’s like to feel so weak and helpless.”
Angel didn’t have anything to say to this. He swallowed the lump in his throat. His Childe had truly been alone and he’d did nothing to prevent it. He’d known about the chip, not from the very beginning, but he’d found out about it soon after Buffy came to visit him after Thanksgiving. And he’d done nothing for his own Childe except to be glad that he couldn’t kill anymore. He didn’t even have one thought or concern about how Spike was getting along, how he was managing to feed himself, or even if he had a secure place to sleep. Some fucking Sire he was. A wave a shame washed over him and he missed Spike’s next move.
The old feelings of frustration and hurts overwhelmed the slim blond. He did now what he did then when it got to be too much for him. He began to pound on the walls in front of him. Harder and harder he beat until the small fists began to bleed and he felt nothing, not even the pain in his hands. A hard body slammed into him, knocking him sideways and onto the floor. Spike starred blankly into the furious face of Angel. He turned his head sideways, not wanting to look in those brown eyes and waited for the typical explosion from the larger vampire. Instead of a tirade about how stupid he was being, Spike heard the rip of his makeshift toga and felt his hands being wrapped.
The smell of his Childe’s blood snapped Angel out of his self pity. He looked up to find Spike beating his fists against the wall, blood flowing down the split skin. He angrily flung himself at the distraught blond and was just about to scream at him, when he noticed the blank look in those blue eyes before the thin face turned away from him.
All the anger died and he just set about wrapping the injuries with pieces of sheet. He knew that Spike expected him to yell at him, but what could he say? He wasn’t exactly angry at Spike. How could he be? Much of what was wrong with the blond was his fault. He’d betrayed him, abandoned him, didn’t care about him for a very long time. He’d treated the smaller vampire like a punching bag whenever they met. And worse of all, Angel had left him alone in his time of need, when Spike was helpless against everyone and everything and he hadn’t so much as spared the blond a single thought. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t begin to cover his debts.
Spike curled up on his side once Angel was done with his hands. It eerily reminded him of his first night at the hotel. Hurt hands and Angel’s silent ministrations. The silence became too much, so he started to talk again, words pouring out of him like a river. Spike actually had a half-thought that he wouldn’t be able to stop the babble even if he could. He just had to fill the quiet or he’d start to cry again.
“I knew he found the list. Knew he read it and everything. So, I kept waiting for him to bring it up. To say something or throw me out. Even start being extra nice and start dropping hints about his friends. Ya’ know the old ploy, Angel, buttering up somebody to get on their good side so when the carnage starts, they're safe. But nothing for two weeks. He treated me the same way and it drove me nuts. Finally I snapped and demanded to know what he was gonna do to me. He looked at me with his big brown eyes looking so innocent and asked me what I meant. I told him that I knew he saw the list and wanted to know what he wanted from me. I mean, everybody’s got an angle, right?”
Spike turned his head and Angel saw the awe in his eyes.
“He looked at me, Angel. He looked right into my eyes and he told me that he understood. He said that he knew what it was like to hurt inside so bad that you’d do anything to make it stop. But you couldn’t make it stop because you didn’t know how. You’re helpless against the hurt and nobody can help you because they don’t understand that it’s not only fists that hurts. Words have their own power and they’ll crush every hope and sense of worth out of you. And then he apologized to me, Angel. To me! Said that he was sorry for the way that he and the others treated me. Sorry for tying me up, for taunting me, for treating me like . . . like an unwanted Christmas fruitcake to be passed from one house to the next. And then . . . and then Xander said that he trusted me. Nobody’s ever said that they trusted me before. Not unless they wanted something, but he meant it. He didn’t say it to get his name off the list. He didn’t say that he trusted me as long as I didn’t go after his friends. Xander said it because he believed it; he believed in me. That was the first precious gift he ever gave me and neither of us realized it at the time.”
Spike turned his head back and didn’t bother to stop the tears. It seemed that he did nothing in this room but talk and cry. Tired and drained again, he crawled his way back to the mattress and curled up once again. Angel listened to him cry himself to sleep once more. Yawning, Angel checked his watch and was astonished to find that it was after midnight. Usually prime hunting time for vampires, but they’d spent the day talking instead of sleeping. He carefully laid beside Spike, studying the tear worn face.
Angel felt a deep wave of shame hit him again. Yes, he loved Spike, but did it go as far as trusting him? He remembered that one of the reasons he brought Spike to L.A. to begin with, was that he hadn’t trusted him around the girls. He’d been so sure that the blond had something up his sleeve. Angel heaved a heartfelt sigh and begun to grudgingly admire Xander.
That small seed of trust had bloomed into true love for the vampire. Spike needed someone to believe in him, someone who trusted him without any doubts or hesitation. He found that in a mortal boy named Xander; someone who loved him for himself and not for what he could do for them. Angel searched his own soul, looking for an answer to his own question. Did he trust and believe in Spike? If Spike ever got the chip out, would Angel put conditions on their relationship? Would they even have a relationship? If Spike got the chip out and started on a rampage, would he dust his lover, or stand out of the way?
That was a question that Angel hoped that he would never have to answer. And if he couldn’t answer that one, then how could he ever convince Spike that he truly loved him? Again, Angel cursed Angelus. Not only did he destroy Spike’s love, but also his ability to trust. The dark haired vampire knew that if he couldn’t win and keep Spike’s trust, there was no chance for either of them. The Sire finally joined his Childe in sleep, his still troubled mind in torment.
Sleepy blue eyes opened and stared at the man across from him. Spike studied the sleeping vampire and wondered how he could ever mistake him for Xander. When Xander slept, he usually sprawled all over the bed. He never minded that because that usually meant that he could plaster himself to the warm human. Xander always looked relaxed and peaceful. Angel, on the other hand, didn’t look relaxed. He looked tense, guarded; as if he was afraid that anyone would mistake him for anything other then a corpse. Actually, now that Spike looked closer, Angel looked rather constipated. He stifled a giggle. Angel the constipated corpse.
Looking around, he spotted the mini-fridge and felt hunger for the first time in ages. Knowing that when Angel woke up, he’ll try to feed him again, so Spike decided to beat him to the punch. Not because he was really hungry, but because he didn’t want to listen to Angel go on and on about how skinny he was. Taking out a cold bag, he was just about to about to drain it when he thought that he might as well go all the way. Watching the bag revolve in the microwave, he had a stray evil thought. Why should he be the only one up? Besides, Angel had to eat too.
Taking the now heated bag out, he placed another one in and punched the setting. He slowly sipped from his bag while he waited. At the ding, he quickly finished his and gleefully tossed the empty bag over to join the others. Spike carefully and cautiously edged around Angel, making sure the other vampire was still asleep. So far, so good. Very slowly, he held the heated blood bag above Angel’s face.
“Sunlight!!!"
He yelled and dropped the bag right on top of Angel’s face. Spike wished that he had a camera handy for Angel’s reaction. As predicted, the yell woke the sleeping vampire and the heated bag had his half-asleep brain convinced that somehow a board had gotten lose and he was being fried. As Angel was frantically screaming and pawing at his face trying to smother nonexistent flames, Spike was rolling on the floor and howling with laughter. By the short time it took for the sleep-addled vampire to realize that it was all a trick, the blond had been reduced from howling glee to simple uncontrollable giggles. He pointed at Angel and managed to gasp out, “You should’ve seen your face, mate. It was priceless!”
Angel watched in amusement as the panting blond struggle to get himself under control. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Spike. It’d been so long since he saw a genuine smile on that small perfect face, longer since he’d heard real laughter. Angel mockingly scrawled at the other vampire, fighting lips that threaten to lift into a smile at the corners. It wouldn’t do for a Sire to let a Childe get away with something like that without some kind of punishment, but Angel didn’t really care. He missed this simple carefree part of Spike.
He stood over Spike and waited until the blond had more control over himself. Giving a Sire worthy glare, he told him, “That wasn’t very nice.”
Spike’s blue eyes dulled a bit and Angel wanted to kick himself. He hadn’t meant to do that. He’d only wanted a typical smart-ass reply; he didn’t mean for Spike to retreat back into himself. Before he could apologize to Spike, he spoke up.
“He likes . . . used to like to hold me, sometimes.”
“Huh?” Another brilliant response, he told himself. But what could he expect when something like that came out of left field.
“Xander, you gibbering moron. He used to like to hold me. Didn’t even have to lead to sex. He just liked to cuddle when we watched t.v. or talked or when I read to him. He said he like my accent. He made me feel safe. Never felt safe before.”
Spike rolled over and stood up. He aimlessly wandered the room again while Angel drained the bag. The larger vampire thought with sorrow that there was another thing he never gave his Childe; a feeling of safety. Spike waited until Angel finished before asking a question that had been gnawing at him.
“Why are we here, Angel? Locked in this room alone? Where’s everybody else?"
Angel had wondered about how to broach the subject of the attempted suicide, but now it seemed that the time had come. Since Spike hadn’t done the mating ritual, he didn’t have that compulsion for death as an excuse. The blond had been grief stricken, but still had some rational thoughts left if he thought that suicide would be the answer to everything. He spoke calmly and rationally. It wouldn’t do for him to shout. Spike had been honest with him so far, he deserved the same thing from him.
“I sent the others away with instructions to not disturb us. Wesley said that he was afraid that you were going to kill yourself. He told me that he thought that you and Xander had mated and suicide was a compulsion that you couldn’t stop. I needed to know if you had for myself. But you didn’t mate, so that means that the compulsion wasn’t there. You did want to kill yourself. Why, Spike? I know Xander meant a lot to you and the fact that you hadn’t tried this before means that you knew that it was wrong. So, why now Spike? Why not before?”
Spike turned away from Angel and muttered something too low for the other vampire to hear, even with his supernatural abilities. Angel forced Spike to look at him and demanded that he repeat himself.
“I said that I promised Xander that after the last time I wouldn’t try again. Happy now?”
Angel was stunned and had a cold sick feeling in his stomach. Spike had tried to kill himself, more then once by the sound of thing. He could’ve lost his Childe and not even known about it. Fright turned to anger and he unleashed it at Spike.
“You tried this before?! Why? What kind of fucking idiot are you?!”
Spike jerked out of Angel’s hold and unleashed his own anger.
“You want the gory details, Sire?! Fine, I'll tell you all of it. First time was after I escaped those maniacs that put this fucking chip in my head! I was starving and desperate when I finally turned to the Scoobies. They kept me chained in a fucking tub the whole time I was there! They knew I couldn’t hurt them, but they did it anyway. Then when Rupert got tired of babysitting me, I was shoved off on the Whelp. He kept me chained to a chair, called me names and ordered me around. He only let me loose in the daytime because he knew I couldn’t go anywhere. That was a real laugh, as if I had anywhere else to go. Couldn’t even wash my own fucking clothes without shrinking them. So, there I was, wearing Xander’s clothes, useless and alone. Figured I didn’t have anything worth living for, so I decided to end it all. A vampire who can’t even hunt is worthless. So, I rigged up a stake, climbed up on the couch and let myself fall. Xander and Red coming through the door threw off my aim. They’d come by to pick up some weapons and after seeing me screw up staking myself, Red insisted that they take me with them. Red’s got a soft heart. Didn’t wanna go, but Xander told me to cheer up, that there was an apocalypse. I accused them of just saying that just to make me feel better. That was the night I found out that I can hurt demons. Had something to live for them.”
Angel watched the anger die and be replaced by sorrow. He saw that small, pointed chin quiver.
“I fought side by side with the Slayer. Plotted against and with the Scoobies. Thought I’d even fallen in love with Buffy, but it was only a passing fancy. She was a friend and worthy adversary. Treated me like a man instead of a monster. Last thing she ever asked me was to protect lil’ sis. She trusted me to keep her safe. I told her I’ll protect Nibblet to the end of the World. But I couldn’t keep my promise. I screwed up again and that time Buffy paid for it with her life. I had only one task that night and I fucked it up. I saw her fall. I smelled her blood. I couldn’t punish anybody but myself for my mistake. So, during the day I did what I could. Moved in with the girls, cleaned the house and cooked. Helped with homework and research. I did what was needed because they were barely functioning. I took care of all of them. That was during the day. During the night I either babysat Nibblet or patrolled. And it was at night that I looked for death. Mine. I took on the biggest and baddest demons around. I still had to keep the others safe, ya’ know. I figured that if I was gonna die, might as well be in a blaze of glory. Then one night a Jackinup went after Giles. Nasty lil’ buggers they are, but I managed to break it’s neck. But not before it ripped my stomach open. I woke up the next day at Xander’s place. He told me that he knew what I was trying to do. Told me that he understood, that he sometimes felt like it would all stop hurting if he was no longer there. He told me that death wasn’t the answer and I was a coward if I thought otherwise. Told me that it took real courage to stick around and that I was many things, but a coward I was not. Then he threw out the Nibblet guilt card. Told me how disappointed she’d be in me and that’s when I promised that I’d never do something like that again. Never could stand seeing her sad. I never had someone care whether I lived or died before. I fell in love with him that day.”
Angel’s anger quickly turned to sorrow. It was true, in away. Even when he was in that wheelchair nobody cared whether he fed, if he was bathed or even dressed. Dru could barely take care of herself, much less an injured Childe. Oh, who was he kidding? Dru couldn’t take care of herself; some days Spike could hardly keep her indoors on sunny days. Angelus couldn’t bother himself with the injured vampire’s day to day care. He assigned minions to that task, but minions generally had the I.Q. of garden slugs. Most days found Spike falling in an exhaustive sleep in that chair, dirty and starving. And Angelus never cared that he was suffering. No wonder Spike fell so in love with the first person who ever treated him like he mattered. But something was puzzling about Spike’s story.
“Willow told me that it was a month after that, that you fell in love with Xander. Did the two of you keep it a secret?”
Spike smiled sadly at that bittersweet memory.
“Couldn’t come right out and lay my heart open to him, could I? What if he hadn’t felt the same? What if he freaked and threw me out? Worse, he could’ve told the others that I made a pass at him. They would’ve started to not trust me around Lil’ Bit. They would’ve started to remember Angelus’ stalking Buffy. The best they would’ve done would be staking me quick. The worse . . . driven me outta town. A slow death, that is. I would’ve been alone again. I can’t handle being alone like that again.”
The last sentence had been said in a heartbroken whisper. Angel still wanted to hold Spike, to cuddle and comfort him, but knew that now wasn’t the right time. Impulsively he asked, “Tell me how you told him. How did he finally know how you felt about him?”
Spike stared at the floor, wondering why Angel acted like the concerned Sire now. Why was he so eager to hear about Xander and him? Deciding that he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, he told Angel of that fateful encounter.
“He’d been hurt at work, threw his back out. The docs sent him home with some pain killers and told him to stay in bed for three days. I got pissed at him for taking chances like that. It just slipped out. I yelled that no man that I love was going to stay at a dangerous job like that. He was going to get a job as a librarian or something like that. In the middle of screaming at him, he told me that he loved me too. Stopped me cold, it did. I didn’t believe it at first, I mean, how could someone so good and pure love a foul demon like me? And then he kissed me. That’s when I knew that he wasn’t lying, he did love me.”
Spike looked down and fidgeted with his toga, tears slipping down his cheeks. The next thing he said was in a voice so vulnerable and so awed, that it made Angel want to weep. He’d never hear that tone from his Childe before.
“The first time we made love, he was so . . . so gentle, so caring. He said that he was afraid of hurting me, of causing me pain. Imagine, being afraid to hurt a vampire. No one had ever been so loving towards me before. Is it any wonder that I ache inside for him?”
Angel was struck speechless. No, it didn’t surprise him that his Childe missed this mortal. No one in Spike’s life ever treated him that special, like he was a fragile bird learning to fly. Angelus had never taken the time to make love to William; it was just violent sex with the demon. And Angel shamefully remembered his own recent encounter with Spike. He hadn’t taken the time to really prepare the blond, had even been more then a little rough with him. The only thing he could say in his defense was that he thought the younger vampire had wanted him to dominate. It was a lousy excuse he knew, but the only one.
“What now, Angel?”
“Huh?” Spike rolled his eyes at another one of Angel’s brilliant responses.
“I said, what now? Do I stay here, go back to Sunnydale, or what? What do you want me to do now?”
Angel was a bit confused. Shit, he hadn’t really thought this far ahead. At first, all he was concerned about was if he had to stake Spike or not. Now that he didn’t have to, Angel was kind of stuck for an alternate plan. He looked at the blond vampire, looked deep into those fathomless blue eyes and saw that Spike was still balanced on the edge. Stay or go, eventually Spike would kill himself, either by his own hands or by facing an enraged demon and not fighting back. And now Spike was asking him what to do.
What Angel really wanted to do was lock up his Childe in a windowless brick room. He could keep Spike safe there, away from danger and temptation. But he also knew that he couldn’t do that. It would be like caging a wild animal, one that was meant to be free. Oddly, one of Lorne’s pet phases echoed in his mind. The green-skinned demon had gotten a page-a-day calendar full of affirmation quotes and cheerful little statements. He had delighted in driving everyone crazy by throwing out one passage after another. The one that struck Angel at this particular time went something like, ‘If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it was meant to be. If it stays free, it was never yours to begin with.’
Like a bolt of lightening, the older vampire knew that he only had two choices. One, he could lock Spike up in that room, but by keeping him safe, ultimately Angel would still lose him. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally; it would be little more then a living suicide. Two, he could give the choice over to Spike. He still might opt to take his own life, but it would be his decision; one made with a clear head and conscious. Angel still might lose his Childe, but by giving him a choice, he could show Spike that he trusted him. Xander had given Spike his trust, the building block of their relationship. Oh, Angel could tell the smaller vampire that he trusted him and mean it, but Spike wouldn’t believe him. With their history, who could blame him? He had to show him that he trusted Spike. It was the only way.
“It’s your choice, Spike. Your decision to live or die. I won’t make you live when all you seek is your death. But I want you to think about it long and hard. I want you to do what you think is best. Not what Xander would’ve wanted, not what I want or what the girls want. Life or death, Childe. Your decision. I trust you, Spike.”
“And if I chose death?”
“I will abide by your choice, because it’s yours. I’m not going to use guilt to change your mind. If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have given you a choice. Just know that I trust you to chose what’s best for yourself, not for anybody else. I’m going to leave you alone now to think without any interference. I’ll give you 24 hours to decide.”
With those parting words, Angel forced himself to turn his back on Spike and leave the room.
T.B.C