Waiting 7d/7
Well, I'm back again with another chapter. We’re almost to the end, folks.
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: 7d/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
Previously in Waiting:
“That,” Cordy nodded to the now human looking Angel, “is a vampire. A good vampire with a soul. And your patient is a vampire too. Although, he doesn’t have a soul, but he’s good now. And he has a chip in his head that’s doing a lot of damage for no reason. If we don’t get it shut off, it’ll kill him. Permanently. He’s done a lot of good, he can still do good if the chip is turned off. Please help him.”
***********************************
Doc Noah looked at the blond stretched out on his examining table, looking sick and vulnerable. He watched as the thin, fragile body contorted beyond the realms of possibilities. He watched as three other people hovered around the jerking body, making sure that he wouldn’t fall off the table. He saw the look of devastation and despair on their faces. He saw the look of naked hopelessness and fear in Angel’s face. It was that look that decided him. Everything that he’d read as a child about vampires, much that he was sure was now mostly myth, meant nothing. With or without a soul, Noah knew that this man, this demon, loved the suffering blond that was on his table. Anyone or anything that could look like that over another’s pain was well worth knowing.
“Tell me what I have to do.”
There was a collective sigh of relief all around. Fred was the one that spoke up. After all, she was the one who brainstormed this whole idea.
“First step is to stop his seizures. Do you have anything to stop it, even temperately?”
“Actually, I do. It’s designed for large dogs though. I’m not sure how much to use for a person.”
“Doesn’t really matter. Spike’s technically dead anyway, so an overdose isn’t really an issue. Use all of it, we don’t want him to seize during the operation.”
Noah nodded and filled his largest syringe. He waited until the ridged body relaxed once again before emptying the entire contents into the largest muscle on the wasted body that he could find. He waited for a tense ten . . . twenty . . . thirty minutes before he was satisfied that the medicine had stopped the seizures.
He then ordered everyone out as he and Fred began to scrub up for surgery. He didn’t need any more distractions then he already had with the physiology of his patient.
It took Cordy, Wesley and Gunn to drag a protesting Angel out of the examining/operating room. They forcefully sat him down in a waiting room chair and the two men took up positions on either side of the door. Cordy slapped a magazine into Angel’s hands with a tense order to read, she’ll be giving a quiz later on the subject matter. She sat down, crossed her legs and began to read a six month old edition of ‘Bird’s Weekly’.
Angel angrily threw down his magazine and approached the door, intent in reaching his ailing Childe. As if on cue, both Wes and Gunn whipped out pocket sized crosses, stopping the vampire in his tracks, his demon hissing at the faint pain from the holy relics.
“Angel,” Cordy speaks up, not missing a beat with one swinging leg, “sit back down. Now.”
The vampire whirled on her. “Spike needs me! I can’t believe you’re trying to keep me from him. I’m his Sire, he’s my Childe! Let me go to him.”
Head still buried in an article about Cockatiels, she calmly told him, “What Spike needs right now it that chip fixed. Fred and the doc can’t do that if you’re hovering around them and growling. Now sit the fuck down and read the damn magazine. No brooding allowed. There will be a test later. Or, if you’re still feeling frisky, Wes, Gunn and I will take you into another room and neuter your sorry dead ass.”
With that threat hovering over his head, Angel meekly sat down, picked up the discarded magazine, and began to follow Cordy’s orders. The two guards put away their weapons and pulled chairs over so that they could still cover the doors in case Angel tried another escape to the back.
Oblivious to what was going on up front, Noah quickly filled Fred in on the proper procedures and what was expected as his assistant. He was impressed as Fred rapidly repeated everything back, word for word. He had Fred prep Spike by draping the vampire in surgical sheets and towels, while he tested his equipment. He decided to forgo any drips or tubes, seeing as his patient had no circulation to speak of. He did, however, injected a powerful sedative in case Spike woke up in the middle of the operation.
After they both scrubbed up and donned surgical gloves and masks, they began. Calling for a scalpel, Noah expertly peeled away the first layer of skin just below the hairline and under the top of the ears. The scalp came away easily and exposed the whitish-pink fat and muscle just under the hair flap. Noah reminded himself that the absence of blood was normal for this patient. Another, deeper sweep of the sharp instrument exposed the white bone of the skull. Taking a deep and cleansing breath, he called for the bone saw.
The first grinding high pitched whine had Angel shooting out of his chair and half-way across the lobby. Gunn and Wesley calmly took out their crosses again and repealed the anxious vampire. Cordelia just as calmly got up and towed Angel back to his seat and put his magazine back into his lax hands. Angel stared blindly at the article, forcing himself to stay in his seat. Cordy placed a soothing hand on his as all three of the humans crossed their fingers in hope that all went well. Three pairs of fearful eyes meet over the tensely bowed head of the vampire.
Still oblivious to what was happening out in his lobby, Noah gently removed to top of Spike’s skull and exposed the brain. With a little gentle probing in the area that Fred indicated, he found the defective chip nestled in the grayish-pink folds and crinkles of the brain. For a short moment, he and Fred stared in awe at the technology that really shouldn’t exist. And if it did exist, it could be better used to benefit mankind by helping the blind, deaf, paralyzed. Instead, it was used to control demons, crippling them to their own nature and making a mockery of so called ‘humanity’. Noah felt a brief stab of shame.
“Ok, Fred. It’s your show now.”
He stepped back to give Fred some room. She picked up one of her homemade devices, cobbled together using different parts and technology. It took over a year to do the math and build the device to her specifications. Even now, it looked like a remote control on steroids, complete with dangling wires and teensy tiny alligator clips. And it still might not work at all.
Using tweezers, Fred attached the tiny clips to the exposed wires of the microchip, being extremely careful not to include any brain tissue in the teeth. Pressing a series of numbers, she watched one of the two small lights that she scavenged from Christmas tree lights, waiting for a switch from green to red. No change. Punching in a second series of numbers, she waited. No change again. Biting her lip, she input another series, this time longer, her fingers flying from one number to the next. If this code didn’t work, she had nothing left.
Pressing the last number, she waited with held breath, praying for the light to switch. Just as she thought she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, the light went from green to red. Two sets of breaths whooshed out in relief. She gently removed the clips and picked up the second device, one that would detect any artificial electrodes.
Fred touched the probe to the microchip and watched for any activity. She gave a sigh and a silent prayer of thanks when there was no sign of activity. She put the probe down and picked up the third and finally device. It looked like a garage door opener for Dr. Frankenstein. The fact that it had been an actual garage door opener in a previous life was immaterial now. Fred pointed it at the chip and pressed the button. She held the probe up to the chip once more. Still dead, which meant that the chip was permanently inactive and could never be turned back on ever again. She was putting up her tools when the voice of the vet startled her. She had been so engrossed in her work that she temporarily forgot about him.
“Don’t you want to remove the chip?”
Fred delicately probed around the now dead chip. “No, there’s no tellin’ how far the wires go in and I don’t feel comfortable explorin‘. We might damage him more then we might already have. The chip is terminated for good now, it can’t be turned back on. We’ll just put Humpty Dumpty back together again and hope that all went well.”
It took longer to replace the skull cap and stitch up the layers of muscle and skin then it did to open him up in the first place. He and Fred took a quick x-ray as soon as Noah noticed the broken wrist. It didn’t take much time to set the bones and as Noah bandaged his patient, Fred stretched her cramping muscles and checked the clock. Over five hours had passed between the time they started and finished. She tiredly went to inform the crew of the semi-good news.
Cordelia was on her third magazine and noticed that Angel had yet to turn a page in the last hour or two. She stifled another yawn and checked out Gunn and Wes. They had moved from quietly discussing the differences between the Gov’ylickic’d clan and the Govylicic’d clan to lightly dozing in their chairs. So when Fred burst through the door, it startled the two men and sent them careening out of their chairs and crashing to the floor. Cordy stifled a grin as the two men untangled their legs and she placed a comforting hand on Angel’s arm.
Fred looked at the worried face of Angel, walked up to him and took his limp hands in hers. “The chip is turned off for good. It can’t be turned back on ever again,” she informed him. She hated to destroy that look of relief the flooded the vampire’s face. “However, we don’t know if there has been any permanent damage from the operation. We talked about the risks, remember? We won’t know anything’ ‘til he wakes up. I just thought you needed to know that the operation was a success.”
The feeling of elation faded as Angel looked into Fred’s serious eyes. Just because the battle had been won, didn’t mean the war was over.
“When can I take him home?” Angel quietly asked. He wanted to take his Childe home and spend the rest of the day holding him. Fuck any visions from the Powers That Be. Nothing was going to take him from his boy’s bedside until he knew for sure if he was completely well or not.
“Noah’s fixin’ his broken wrist and after that, we can take him home.”
“A couple of his ribs broke, too. They need taping up.” Angel’s voice was too eerily calm and composed. Fred knew that he was suffering from some sort of shock. She would’ve felt like that if it’d been Charles in an operating room and her not knowing what was going on. Angel would feel much better once they knew what condition Spike would be left in.
“We’ll tell him. We can go get him now, if you want.”
Angel nodded and Fred took him into the OR room, holding his hand and leading him like a small child. The fact that Angel felt like a lost child was immaterial. What was material, was that Spike made it out of the woods, but he wasn’t home free yet. Cordy and the guys trailed behind them.
Noah looked up as the Fang Gang entered the room. He’d just put the last piece of tape around the wrist when Fred’s soft voice filled the room.
“Angel said that a couple of ribs are broke. Can you tape them up? We’ll go as soon as you release him.”
Noah didn’t question it, just felt around the thin chest until he found the injury. There were indeed two broken ribs, but without an x-ray, he’d never would’ve known. He didn’t try to figure out how the other vampire knew about them. He just firmly taped them up and nodded for them to remove his patient. As Angel gently picked up the limp form of Spike, Noah marveled at his new awareness. He went from having a routine day with nothing more exciting then patching up Mr. Harvest’s dog from a fight with the local tom cat, to finding out that vampire’s were real and he just met two of them. He wondered what else went on in this big city and suddenly felt small and insignificant.
“Fred,” he called out just before the girl left, “let me know how it all turns out.”
She silently nodded and closed the door. It was already dark, so they didn’t have any problem of the sunlight variety. The ride was quiet on the way back, no one knew what to say that didn’t sound phony. So they said nothing. They still said nothing as they followed Angel up to his room and place his precious burden in their bed. Angel pulled up his customary chair and the other’s left him alone to brood in peace.
Cordy had a vision and sent the rest of the crew out to clear out a nest of Agsen’di’fer demons that were going to snack on some homeless shelter. The warriors came back in triumph three hours later, dripping in purple goo. Angel didn’t even acknowledge their return. Nor did he notice when Cordy placed a phone call to Buffy and the girls to tell them about Spike’s condition and operation. He only looked up from his study of a still, pale form when Buffy forced his head up.
“Go take a nap,” she ordered. And, when Angel looked like he was going to protest, she told him, “You need to sleep. We’ll take turns and wake you up if he stirs.”
Still, he was reluctant to leave until all the girls looked at him with their resolve faces. Knowing that he was beaten, he let Wesley and Gunn lead him out, taking a last look at the blond in the bed.
For the next three days, everyone keep vigil over the still and silent Spike. They worked in pairs so in case he woke up, one of them can alert the others and someone would still be there for Spike. On the morning of the fourth day, the figure on the bed twitched. Wesley and Dawn crowded close, waiting to see if the movement was repeated. After the second twitch, Dawn raced excitedly downstairs to alert everyone.
Spike moaned. Everything felt all stiff, as if he’d been lying on the old marble slab in his old crypt. But that was impossible. He was now in L.A. and he doubted that the poof’s bed would ever be that hard. Speaking of which, where was Peaches? Spike didn’t feel him in his usual spot and it was still vampire nighttime. Besides, Tall, Dark and Broody always woke him up if a vision from Cordy sent him on a mission.
His stomach growled and after a stretch and a scratch, he opened his eyes. And immediately stifled a gasp as ten grinning faces crowded over him. The whole L.A. crew and Sunnydale gang, including Giles, whom he thought flown back to England, was smiling at him like loons.
“Why are you all staring at me like that?” Spike asked suspiciously.
“How do ya’ feel?” asked Fred, still smiling away.
“Like the prized booby in a nuthouse. Back off, will ya? You’re all beginning to give me the hebbie jebbies. What’s going on, anyway?”
They all stood back as Spike cautiously sat up and then regrouped around the bed.
“What’s the last thing ya’ remember?” Fred asked, pressing for information. She wanted to know if there had been any damage at all.
“Headache, same as usual. Why, what happened?”
Spike stared from one member of his family to another. They were hiding something, he was sure of that. Fred had talked to the others about the chip. The signal might be turned off, but that didn’t mean that Spike would be willing to try it out. Too many years of careful avoidance of physical contact with humans had left it’s psychological mark on the blond vampire. As bad as the headaches had progressed, Spike would never risk so much as a pinch to test out the success. So, they had come up with an alternate plan, unbeknownst to two of the family group. After all, they couldn’t have one of them flinching before contact was made.
“Wesley made a pass at me,” Dawn suddenly said.
Spike immediately reacted without thinking, a clinched fist lashing out to punch the young ex-Watcher in the mouth. No one, absolutely no one, hurt his Nibblet! The fist had made contact before Spike’s brain could tell him of the danger of hitting a human. As Wesley nursed a bruised jaw, Spike’s clutched his head, waiting for the tidal wave of pain.
Nothing.
“Hey, wait a minute. What’s going on?”
Spike listened as the whole crowd explain about the seizures, the operation, and the most important news of all, the chip’s termination. It took a few minutes for his brain to absorb it all, but when he finally figured it all out, the first thing on Spike’s mind was to find some muggers and beat them up. They manage to convince him to wait until he was fed and for night time to fall, but then the whole gang went out for a night on the town. They proudly watched as a gleeful Spike found bad guy after bad guy and beat the tar out of them. Although he didn’t kill them, several of them found that their chosen vocations were not to their liking after all.
Now that Spike was more or less back to his full strength, he rejoined Angel on his missions. Not once did it cross anyone’s mind that the blond would resume feeding on the populace, not even Spike thought about taking a sip every now and then. Just the thought of going against Xander’s wishes was enough to curb even the strongest hunger pains.
Time passed.
Buffy was getting married. She’d first became good friends with Harold and the friendship gradually grew into love. A few months into being hired by The Magic Box, Harold had been attacked by vampires on the way home. Buffy had been secretly following him and saved his life. At first, he’d been disbelieved his own eyes, certain that his mind had been playing tricks on him. Until once again, he’d been attacked a few months later. Then Harold didn’t have any excuses and listened as Buffy and the girls explained about the Hellmouth and the real beasties that went bump in the night. He went on a few patrols with the girls and was content to stay in the background, doing research and helping to run the shop.
Harold met Buffy’s extended family. He’d been very impressed with Angel Investigation and made some investing suggestions, which immediately endeared him to Cordelia. Angel and Spike mistrusted him on principle and kept a close eye on him. After all, Buffy was family and they wouldn’t stand for it if she was hurt. After Riley, they’d become very suspicious of any male sniffing around one of their girls. They were impressed, however, when Harold didn’t bat an eyelash when they growled and threaten him in their game faces. Spike told Angel later that the boy had balls. He’d have to in order to keep up with Buffy.
After knowing each other for three years, Harold finally popped the question. Ironically, it was on one of the rare patrols that he went on, and after coming across a group of Kormice demons. Buffy happily accepted the ring on her goop covered finger and began to make plans.
They had the wedding at the Hyperion, since Spike still refused to visit Sunnydale. Dawn was matron of honor with Willow and Tara as bridesmaids. Angel, Spike and Gunn stood up for Harold and Giles walked a radiant Buffy down the aisle. She’d sent an invitation to Mr. Summer’s, but it was returned unopened. Buffy wasn’t upset though. She did have her ‘real’ father give her away, after all. Harold even grinned when Spike made his toast into a description of how he would eviscerate the human if he ever hurt Buffy in any way, shape or form. Spike later reflected that it was a match that Xander would’ve approved of. Harold was an alright chap and he deserved to have someone see the real him below the surface. And the Slayer finally found someone who didn’t try to prove his manhood by trying to protect her or compete against her.
Time passed.
Angel was having his usual dream of making love to Spike. Then he felt a very real, cool hand grip his cock. Angel’s eyes popped open and he found a very naked Spike trying to initiate sex. The older vampire almost let it happen, it had been so long for both of them, when he happened to glance over at Spike’s bedside table. The ever present picture was face down and at least three empty Scotch bottles littered the surface. Forcing Spike to stop took all of his willpower, especially with a very happy Jr. rearing his head, perfectly willing and eager for anything Spike had to offer.
“What do you think you’re doing, Spike?”
“Wha’s itz loo’ like?” slurred Spike, trying to worm his way onto Angel’s body.
Angel forced the blond to focus on him. “Who am I, Spike?”
Big blue eyes blinked a couple of times, trying to process the question. Finally grasping the answer, he triumphal announced, “Angel! Hav’ sex now, ‘kay?” and tried to clumsily kiss the other vampire.
“Well,’ Angel thought, ‘at least he knows it’s me this time. But still, why now?’ Angel finally captured the wandering hands and forced the younger man to look at him again. Unfocused blue eyes stared at him, full lips in a pout.
“Why do you want me now, Spike?”
A pale forehead winkled in a frown. There were too many words and he didn’t understand most of them. He tried to touch Angel again and was stopped. The pout deepened.
“Knows ya’ wan’ me,” Spike slurred. He didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Wha’ ta’ be touched ‘gain. Not nothin’ wong wit’ tha’. Juzz sex. Don’ hafta mean nothin’.”
A wave of sadness washed over Angel. Spike just wanted to be fucked, not made love to. He didn’t want any kind of commitment from Angel, he was still committed to Xander and his memory. And Angel wasn’t going to be used like that.
Springing out of bed, he thrust the picture into Spike’s hands. Big blue eyes focused on Xander’s face and tears began to pour down milky-white cheeks. Angel left to go sleep in Spike’s old room as the younger vampire crumpled into a ball, sobbing his heart out.
Later, when Spike sobered up, Angel sat him down to explain a few things. The older vampire wasn’t going to be used as a substitute. If Spike’s heart wasn’t involved, he didn’t want any part of it. He still loved Spike, but he was willing to wait until the blond’s heart was free, no matter how long it took. Spike asked if they could still share a bed and Angel said yes, as long as the younger man knew that there wouldn’t be any lovemaking until Spike was truly ready.
Time passed.
Dawn graduated from Harvard and became an over worked, underpaid juvenile lawyer. Two years later, she met and fell in love with a social worker. They married at the Hyperion, with the whole family looking on. Spike walked her down the aisle and Buffy was the maid of honor. Spike gave his visual speech once more, just to make sure the new addition knew not to screw around with his Nibblet’s tender affections. Wesley brought a surprise date. Doctor Noah and he had gotten together as the ex-Watcher expanded the vet’s horizons on the demon population. And the good doctor had done some expanding of Wesley’s horizons.
Time passed.
Tara and Willow legally wed. Once again, they hosted the wedding. Angel watched as Spike chatted with his girls after the simple, but elegant ceremony. Ten years had passed since Spike had come to live with him. Ten years since the blond had stepped one foot in Sunnydale.
Time passed.
Fred and Gunn got married and they lost Giles to a series of strokes in the same year. Angel and Spike paid to have his body brought back from England. They buried him next to Joyce and Spike still refused to return to Sunnydale.
Time passed.
Wesley and Noah married and Tara and Willow both lost their lives closing the Hellmouth for good. Although Spike mourned his witches, he still refused to go to the funeral in Sunnydale. He was glad they both went together. He didn’t want any one of his girls to feel the hollow emptiness that he still felt with Xander’s passing. Buffy stayed on the closed Hellmouth with Harold, Dawn and her husband Jason moving in with them to fill the void left by the girls’ passage.
Curiously, neither the Scoobies nor the L.A. crew produced any children. No medical problems had been found and any artificial means failed. So, they opened their hearts and homes to foster hard to reach children. And, since the Hellmouth closed, Buffy semi-retired, using her spare time to train the new Slayers that were called. Faith had lost her life years ago protecting a guard during a prison riot. So, each new Slayer was directed to Buffy, the longest living Slayer, for training.
Time passed.
Angel lost Wesley to a drunk driver, something no one could have predicted or prepared for. Noah had been inconsolable and grieved himself into a grave a few months later. Cordelia had begun to see Lorne, and didn’t that come as a surprise to the remaining groups. In that same year, they lost both Charles and Fred to a Gobexidixf attack. The poisonous claws killed the couple instantly. They buried them next to Wesley and Noah. Angel, Spike and Buffy went on a vendetta, killing off all clans of the Gobexidixf in L.A. in just a few weeks.
Time passed.
Buffy and Harold both passed on easily in their sleep within a few hours of each other. Spike thought that it was poetic justice. The oldest living Slayer in history died peacefully; not in battle, not in pain. They were laid to rest beside Joyce and Giles. It was a small gathering, made smaller by the absence of one blond vampire. Spike kept telling Angel that he wasn’t ready to return to Sunnydale.
Angel understood. They still shared a bed platonically, and Spike even let the other vampire hug him ever so often. Cordy and Lorne married, and even though they still didn’t know what part of demon the Seer was, it apparently was a long living one. Spike once joked that maybe she was part vampire, since she didn’t look like she had aged in the last fifty years. He laughingly ran from her as she chased him with a stake.
Time passed.
Throughout the years, Spike had his good days and his bad days. Some days he cracked corny jokes and insulted Angel. Other times he spend whole days in bed, uninterested in anything or anybody. Angel hated those days, heart still aching for his mischievous Childe of old. But, with patience, he saw the blond through the worst of it.
They finally lost Dawn after a long, drawn out illness. Spike returned to Sunnydale.
T.B.C.