Fic: The Fire Within, Chapter 15. AU Human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 15
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike, Lindsey/Faith, Lindsey/Spike(sort of)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 9228 words this part
Continued from here.
Liam did say public but the place he’d picked barely met the criteria. It was dark, it was practically covered in plants to hide behind and it was as far away from their usual hangouts as it could be. But it was a restaurant, and it did have people. So, in theory it counted. He just hoped Spike wouldn’t be too disappointed in him.
He’d felt so ready, had the restaurant picked out and everything. Was gonna wear a suit and tie to show Spike this was a proper date. And then he chickened out. Kept the clothes though but lost the tie. Still felt overdressed. Obvious.
Fuck. It was just food. Friends ate food together all the time. It shouldn’t be this hard. Why was it so hard? Spike was gonna give him that sad look and shake his head and tell him-
A low whistle made him turn on his heel. Spike was standing in the doorway to the restaurant, wearing black slacks, a red unbuttoned shirt over a black t-shirt, and a short leather jacket. He looked absolutely delicious. He also seemed… impressed? “Decided to go full romance, did ya, luv?”
That’s when Lian noticed the candles on every red-clothed table, along with a tiny vase, each holding a single rose. His face suddenly felt warm. “I … I didn’t …”
“Just keep in mind I won’t put out for less than a steak.” Spike laughed at Liam’s horrified expression. “I’m taking the piss, luv. Relax.” He winked. “There bloody well better be wine as well.”
“Fuck you,” Liam muttered.
Spike’s grin widened. “Like I said.”
“Sirs?”
Liam turned around, his face growing even hotter. “We have a reservation. O’Connor.”
The waiter checked the register. “Certainly, sir. Please follow me.”
He led them to a table by the window and Liam’s old panic reared its ugly head. What if someone walked by and saw them?
“We can ask him to move us somewhere else,” Spike said when the waiter had handed them their menus. Liam glanced at him, ready to apologize, but Spike didn’t seem miffed, he just smiled kindly. Which made Liam feel even worse.
“This is fine.” Liam cleared his throat as his voice had come out a little strangled. “Never been here before, but I’ve heard the food is good.” He felt like a cheat when Spike smiled at him, as if he was pleasantly surprised that Liam had made inquiries. Truth was he’d just gone online and searched for a restaurant that looked dark and was out of the way and didn’t have too bad reviews. God, he really was the worst.
Liam ordered a bottle of wine, challenging Spike to say something but he just nodded and asked the waiter to bring them some water as well. Liam was about to growl about Spike not needing to baby him, he could drink a few glasses of wine without falling back into bad habits, when Spike said, “Have a shift tomorrow.”
He felt like a tool. “Oh. We could have done this some other night.”
Spike looked at him. “Why? You planning on us staying up late?” He snorted when Liam blushed. “God, you’re so easy.”
“Wasn’t the only easy one last Saturday,” Liam pointed out and felt stupidly happy when Spike chuckled. And then he ruined it by adding, “Was there anyone you didn’t kiss that night?”
Thankfully Spike just laughed and winked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Actually, yes, he would. He wanted to know the name of every single person who’d ever laid lips, hands, or other body parts on Spike, so he could make sure they never did it again. And that was a thought he was never sharing with Spike, ever. And should, all things considered, probably talk to a therapist about. If he had one. Fred kept hinting that he should meet this and that friend of hers that just so happened to be a shrink of some kind. Occupational hazard, he guessed, of working at a university library. He probably should talk to someone, his issues were unlikely to be resolved with a couple of beers and sex, but his father’s words still echoed too loudly in his mind. He was not to talk about it. And how on earth could he discuss his problems if he couldn’t mention the one thing that was the root of them all?
“You with me, luv?”
Liam blinked. Spike was looking at him, head tilted, and Liam wondered what thoughts he’d shown on his face to make Spike seem so worried. “Sorry. Was just thinking of my dad.”
Spike raised one eyebrow. “Yeah? Bad thoughts?” Like that hadn’t been obvious.
Liam shrugged, but then he thought, here was someone willing to listen who already knew about the one thing he was not supposed to tell anyone. Not that Spike was in any way qualified to sort out Liam’s definitely fucked up mind, but didn’t everyone say talking was the first step? “No worse than usual,” he said cautiously.
Spike nodded solemnly. “Do you talk? I’m sorry, I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
“He’s alive.” Three heart attacks and two times cancer survivor. Seemed neither Heaven nor Hell wanted him. “We talk once, twice a year. He asks me about work, and I try not to tell him to go fuck himself.”
“Ah.” Spike sipped from his glass, looking thoughtful. “So, he knows?”
Liam swallowed. “As far as he’s concerned there’s nothing to know. Not since he beat it out of me when I-” Suddenly aware of where they were, he stopped. “You know.”
Spike sighed, “Yeah.” He probably knew it all too well, having come out on multiple occasions. “So, he’s a total wanker. You must take after your mum.”
Liam couldn’t help laughing. “I thought I was a wanker?”
Spike smirked. “Different sort of wanker.” His face turned serious again. “You need back up, let me know.”
Liam snorted. “I can take him. Could probably have taken him even back then. I grew past him pretty much as soon as I hit puberty.” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Here he was a grown man, still being bullied by his scrawny old man. “It was never about that.”
“Never is, innit? I could have fought back my mum easily, but you just don’t, right?” Spike tilted his head in thought. “I couldn’t even hate her, not really. She was a very broken human being.”
“My dad’s just an asshole and a fucking bully.” Liam fiddled with his napkin. “Was always a big believer in corporal punishment. Said it built character. Guess he was wrong on that one.”
Spike put his glass down. “Liam, you’re not a bad man. No, look at me.” Spike’s face was serious when Liam finally managed to meet his eyes. “You’ve made some bloody awful choices but that doesn’t make you a bad bloke. Believe me.” He reached across the table and took hold of Liam’s hand. “I wouldn’t be here if you were. I don’t date pricks.”
Liam squeezed Spike’s hand in gratitude, then jerked back in panic when the waiter suddenly arrived by his side, bringing their food. Spike closed his eyes briefly, as if seeking strength, before looking up at the waiter with a polite smile. “Ta, mate. Looks good.”
It did but Liam had suddenly lost his appetite. Not just because of the panic that was still wreaking havoc on his nerves, but because he had, once again, disappointed Spike. Fuck. As soon as the waiter turned his back - Was that a smirk on his face? - Liam reached for Spike’s hand again. Not because he was feeling particularly brave, they were after all sitting somewhere pretty dark and secluded despite the window, but because he was scared. Scared that letting go would mean losing Spike forever. “I’m sorry. He just surprised me.”
Spike smiled but it looked a little forced. “Baby steps, right?”
Liam squeezed Spike’s hand. “Yeah, but …” He bit his lip. “I know this isn’t what you’re looking for. I know I’m putting you in an impossible situation.” He swallowed. “Any time you want out, just let me know. No hard feelings.”
“Hurt ones though, eh?” Spike said, gripping Liam’s hand tighter when he looked away. “No, listen to me. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was worth it. If I didn’t think there was something to look forward to.” He cleared his throat. “So, yeah. Not looking to give up just yet.”
“Thank you.” Liam squeezed his hand again before letting go.
Spike picked up his fork. “Dig in. After this, you’re taking me dancing. I’m joking, I’m joking!” he laughed at Liam’s horrified expression. “But I wouldn’t mind a walk on the beach. The weather’s nice.”
Liam’s heart jumped. “We could do that.” He picked up his fork as well. “Not taking you to the damn opera though.”
Spike’s laughter made him so happy he didn’t even notice the heads turning their way.
---------------
The weather was nice. The beach was more or less deserted, it wasn’t really the season for moon bathing, but they still crossed a few peoples’ paths, most of them couples. After a while Spike felt the back of Liam’s hand bump against his own, and before he knew it Liam’s fingers had tangled with his, and just like that they were holding hands. He glanced up at Liam, but he was looking straight ahead, like the dunes of sand were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. But there was a nervous tick in his jaw, and the palm pressed against Spike’s was damp with sweat.
Spike squeezed his hand, and they walked on, with the waves lapping lazily at the shore, and the hum of city life just a few feet away. Only once did Liam stiffen, when a patrol car drove by on the road above, but it didn’t slow down, and once it passed, he relaxed and shot Spike an apologetic grimace. He’d been doing that a lot, apologizing for small things when they both knew the main problem was so much bigger. But like he’d said, baby steps. Although Spike had to admit he had a hard time imagining the steps growing much bigger in the near future. Liam was too scared, literally terrified, that the wrong people would find out. And if he didn’t face that fear, nothing would change. Spike couldn’t help wondering if he was more afraid of the fucking bigots, like Larry, or of his more open-minded mates figuring out what Billy must have been to him and hating him for turning his back on the kid, resulting in his suicide.
They reached the pier, and Spike slowed down, presuming they’d turn around and call it a night, but Liam kept going until they were underneath the structure, hidden in its shadows. Then he turned around and pushed Spike up against one of the pillars, grabbed his face between his hands and kissed him with such desperation Spike’s knees almost buckled. They stood there, hidden in the darkness, and kissed and kissed, like it was their last day on Earth, and they wanted to go out wrapped up like one single being.
Liam finally pulled back, only to rest their foreheads together. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”
Spike swallowed. “Ditto.”
They were breathing heavily, the air between them hot and humid and tasting of red wine.
“I’m sorry. For being so damn jumpy. I’m trying, but it’s really fucking hard.”
“I know, pet. It’s okay.” It wasn’t really, but Spike wanted to believe, wanted to hope, that it wouldn’t always be like this. Dark restaurants - yes, he’d noticed but he’d decided to give Liam some slack - shadowed corners, hidden kisses. Shame.
“It’s not. I’m treating you like a dirty secret, and you deserve better.” Liam took a deep breath. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you but … Fuck, this is hard.”
“Hard again? You talking in general or more physically? Because I’m right there with you.”
Like he’d hoped, Liam laughed and some of the tension eased. “Oh, that part is definitely hard. And stop teasing, because I’m trying really hard to be a gentleman here.”
“Again with the hard. I’m starting to think you’re trying to tell me something.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to be serious here. I wanted to ask, if maybe, if you’re okay with it, we could, maybe, I don’t know, have dinner with, you know, some friends of mine.”
Spike laughed. “Bloody hell, pet, took you so long to get that out I thought you were asking if I wanted to join a sex club.”
Liam scowled. “Fred and Gunn. She wants to meet you, so, dinner. That okay with you?”
“Well, since you ask so nicely.”
“Good.”
Liam kissed him again, softer this time, but once his hands were cradling Spike’s head their kisses soon turned as heated as before. Liam’s lips travelled down to Spike’s throat making him groan and throw his head back, almost knocking himself out on the pillar behind him.
“Jesus, luv. Ungh.”
His own hands slipped under Liam’s jacket, tugging at the shirt so he could slide his fingers underneath, feeling the heat of Liam’s skin. Liam groaned, grabbing Spike’s hips and pulling him even closer. He could feel Liam’s cock through the thin fabric of his slacks, pressing hard against his hipbone, searching for friction. Oh God, this was such a bad idea. But fuck if he cared.
His feet suddenly slipped in the dry sand, and he scrambled for purchase, arms tight around Liam’s waist, but the further down he went the better of a view it was, so he let go, pushing Liam back so he could get his knees underneath him before he hit the ground.
“What are you … Spike, you don’t … Oh Jesus!”
Spike fought desperately with Liam’s belt, finally managing to get it open, then the top button of Liam’s pants and the zipper… Mmm, yes. He nuzzled the damp spot on Liam’s boxer briefs, inhaling the warm scent of cotton, clean skin and arousal. He could hear Liam groan ‘Fuck,’ above him before Liam’s hand came to rest on his head, slightly trembling. For the first time Spike really regretted shaving his head because how could he have forgotten how much he loved someone running their fingers through his hair as he was sucking them off? Not that he was, yet, but as soon as he got Liam’s underwear out of the way … There. Yes!
As he worked Spike couldn’t help listening, for footsteps, for shouting, for the sound of a police siren. He didn’t hear any of these things, but he didn’t hear the sounds he would have expected either. Hissing, groaning, grunts, even babbling. Liam was quiet. So quiet he hardly seemed to be breathing. Once the strangeness of it penetrated Spike’s mind, he slowed down and stopped, feeling suddenly self-conscious and frankly worried, because maybe he’d misread the situation. He should have asked, should have made sure they were on the same page. Just then he heard a soft sigh that sounded almost like a sob, and Liam’s hand stroked his buzzed head, urging him silently on. “Please,” he whispered, his voice so low it was hardly audible over the soft laps of the waves, just a few feet below them.
Maybe he was scared that someone would hear him. Maybe he was just scared in general. For all Spike knew Liam was always like this, always this quiet, doing something he still felt so ashamed for. Although he did remember Liam’s hard demanding voice, that disastrous time they almost had sex. Technically did have sex, although it had been cut off rather abruptly, due to reasons he did very much not want to think about right now.
Instead, he got back on track, pulling out all his best tricks, until even Liam couldn’t keep quiet anymore, He was whimpering behind tight-pressed lips, his breathing stuttering to the point of panting, if he’d only dared open his mouth. When Spike felt Liam’s thighs start to tremble, he held on tight and didn’t let go, not even when Liam tried to push him away in warning. Liam’s compressed groan came simultaneously as Spike’s mouth filled with a salty taste he had to admit he had not missed. Discreetly he pulled off and spit in the sand before raising his head. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the look of almost reverent gratitude on Liam’s face. Gratitude and tears. Bugger.
Spike got to his feet with concern, wanting to ask Liam if he was alright, but instead he was pulled into strong arms and kissed until he started seeing stars from lack of oxygen. When Liam finally let him go they were both panting loudly. “Thank you. That was … Thank you.”
Spike wanted to say it was just a blowjob, and it wasn’t even his best performance, but he had a feeling this was about something more than just a sloppy blowjob on a shadowed beach, so he just said, “Anytime, luv,” and kissed him again.
After a long while Liam pulled away and took a step back. The air had turned much cooler while they were busy, even the breeze had picked up a bit. Spike shivered and Liam instantly pulled him close again. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just a bit cold. We should get back.”
Liam tucked himself in, suddenly embarrassed. “I could …”
“You can take me home before my bloody balls freeze off. And other appendices I’d rather stay attached.”
“Oh. Okay.” They started walking. After a while Liam glanced at Spike and said, “Me too.”
Spike looked at him confused. “Sorry?”
“I’d rather they’d stay attached, too.” Liam took Spike’s hand and smiled crookedly. “For future reference.”
Spike threw his head back and laughed.
They were silent in the car on the way home, but it was a comfortable silence. It was late and Spike suddenly felt tired, the exhaustion of good food and wine, fresh air and exercise, not the bone-weary bleakness that had so often worn him out the last few weeks. When Liam stopped the car outside Spike’s apartment building, Spike’s eyes were drooping.
“Thank you. It was …” Liam cleared his throat, seemingly lost for words. “I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s okay?”
“Sure, pet. I get off around five. We could go for a pint.”
“I’d like that.”
Spike was about to climb out of the car when Liam’s phone rang. He fished the phone out of his pocket, frowning when he saw who was calling. Spike was going to slip out and leave him to it but Liam put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
“Gunn?” His pupils dilated and he looked over at Spike, blinking furiously. “I’m on my way,” he said. “Five minutes.” He clicked the phone closed and for a moment he just sat still staring at Spike.
“What?”
Liam seemed to brace himself then he squared his shoulders and turned the ignition. “It’s Fred,” he said, before putting the truck in gear and flooring the pedal so hard the door on Spike’s side banged shut before he even had a chance to reach for it.
---------------
“It’s going to be okay. Gunn, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! She’s my wife and they won’t even let me in to be with her! She’s my wife! They’re my, my babies.” Gunn’s voice broke and he swiped at his eyes before heading once again toward the doors that had been literally shut in their face.
Liam grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “There’s nothing you can do. You would just be in the way. You don’t want that.”
Gunn fought to get away but then all strength left his body, and he collapsed in Liam’s arms, sobbing. “Oh God, Lee, there was so much blood. What if …? I can’t, Lee, I can’t live without her.” He shook his head when Liam tried to sooth him. “And our babies. Oh God, please don’t let anything happen to our babies.”
Liam’s heart ached. He could only imagine Gunn’s agony. “Come on, let’s sit down. Come on, just over here. Spike, could you get us some water?”
Spike, who had been sitting quietly to the side, lifted his head, looking surprised that Liam remembered he was there. He nodded and disappeared down the hall while Liam got Gunn settled on one of the obligatory uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room and sat down beside him. His arm was still around Gunn’s shoulders, holding him tight. It didn’t even register that just a few days ago it was the kind of intimacy he never would have thought himself capable of showing in public. Gunn was trembling, his shirt was stuck to his sweaty back and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen with tears.
“Okay, just breathe and tell me what they said.”
Gun squeezed his eyes shut, like the memory was too painful to bear. “They said something, something might have torn. Something … I can’t remember! We still had a week. I was supposed to have another week with her,” he sobbed.
“And you will, you and the babies. Weeks, years, decades. They are going to be all right.”
“You can’t know that.”
“She’s tough as nails. And if those babies are anything like the both of you, they are going to come out of there kicking and screaming.”
That got him a shaky smile. “They have been kicking up a storm lately.” He suddenly looked panicked. “What if they were trying to tell us something was wrong, and we didn’t listen? I didn’t go with her last time she had a sonogram. What if they missed something? If I’d been there-”
“You wouldn’t have been able to tell one grey blob from the other. You told me yourself they looked like aliens.”
“But…”
“It’s not your fault,” Liam said firmly. “None of this is your fault. Sometimes things just happen. But she’s strong. And they’re strong. It’s going to be okay.”
“Here.”
He looked up to see Spike standing next to them, holding a bottle of water. He looked unexpectedly nervous. Liam couldn’t understand why until he spotted the cops that had just come in, escorting an obviously drunk woman covered in blood from a head wound. Oh. Liam started to panic but, just then Gunn jumped to his feet, mumbling that he was going to be sick. The restrooms were near enough that Liam just waved him in the right direction, hoping he’d make it in time. Then turned around and faced the cops that were walking over, looking concerned but also curious as their gaze flitted from him to Spike, who had shied away, making them look even more conspicuous. A quick assessment made Liam realise that of the three of them, he and Spike were the obvious match, being nicely dressed while Gunn was in his pj pants and a t-shirt. Shit.
“Hey. Everything all right?”
Liam didn’t think it was his place to explain Fred’s medical problems, especially as he still wasn’t sure what exactly they were, except that something had clearly gone horribly wrong. Instead he just said, “His wife is having babies,” and left it at that.
The older cop chuckled. “That’ll do it.” He glanced at Spike before looking back at Liam. “Didn’t know you two were pals.” His voice sounded casual, the smile looked easy, but the cold and calculating look in his eyes made Liam uneasy.
“He saved my life,” Spike said, voice carefully blank. The cops only glanced at him before turning their attention back on Liam, like they didn’t deem Spike worthy of their time. Their fellow cop. It made Liam’s blood boil.
“Was a while ago, right?” The stockier cop - Fuck, what was his name again? Mears? - curled his lip. “He still bothering you?”
Liam stilled. This was it. This was the moment. This was Billy standing all alone, looking to Liam to be his savior. Except this time he wouldn’t turn away. This time-
“Charles Gunn?”
Liam whipped around. The doctor heading their way looked exhausted. Or was it grim? Oh God. “He’s in the men’s room, puking his guts out. I’m a friend of the family.”
The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “When he comes out, tell him he can come see her but just for a moment.”
“Is she okay? Are the babies okay?” When the doctor hesitated, Liam quickly added. “He’s gonna faint the moment I tell him you were here unless you give me something. He’s really freaking out.”
The doctor nodded. “She’s stable for now but we’re prepping her for surgery.” She hesitated again then added, “Their heartbeats are dropping so we really can’t wait. Tell him to hurry.” Then she turned on her heel and hurried back through the doors.
Liam felt numb. He pushed past the cops that were still standing there, like a couple of vultures, and hurried to the men’s room. Gunn was standing by the sink, staring into the mirror, his whole head covered in drops of water. He looked up when Liam came in, his eyes widening in terror when he saw who it was. “Is she..?”
“They’re taking her to surgery.” Liam decided not to mention the twins’ heartbeats dropping, in case Gunn really might faint. “You can see her before she goes in but only for a minute so you better hurry.”
“Oh God.”
Gunn pushed past him through the door. He had already disappeared when Liam stepped back into the waiting room. The cops were still there, still ignoring Spike, except for occasionally glancing his way. They didn’t appear openly hostile, more just tactlessly unfriendly. Still. There was something about them Liam didn’t like. The sooner they left, the better.
“Complications?” Mears asked. The other one, a twitchy weasel with a haircut that reminded Liam uncomfortably of Hitler Youth, still hadn’t said a word.
“Possibly.”
Mears nodded. “Hope it all turns out all right.” He shot Spike another look then shoved the hat back on his head and nudged his partner. “We better get going.”
The weasel nodded at Liam but as they passed Spike, Liam could hear him sneer something that made Spike’s face turn white. His hands balled into fists, but he stood his ground, never looking away until the cops were out the door, chuckling.
Liam stood frozen. He should go after them. Should go wipe those sneers right off their ugly fucking faces. But he couldn’t move. He could hardly even choke out, “What did he say?”
Spike shook his head. He was still pale although spots of red had shown up in his cheeks. “He was just being a fucking prick.”
Liam swallowed. “What. Did. He. Fucking. Say?”
Spike threw up his hands. “Why? So you can beat him up? Drop it.”
“Will.”
Spike sighed. He shook his head. “I’m gonna go, luv. This place… Coppers drop by here all the time. Better I not be here.”
He looked so dejected that Liam was across the floor and taking his hand before he had a chance to think about it. “I’m sorry about them. I’m sorry about all of them fucking assholes treating you like shit.”
And I’m sorry for being such a fucking coward. He wanted to tell Spike that he had been ready, that he was going to stand up for him, for both of them, he would have if the doctor hadn’t interrupted them. But why would Spike believe him when he wasn’t sure he believed it himself?
“It’s alright, pet.” Spike rolled his eyes. “I mean, no, it’s not but fuck’em, right?” He smiled but it looked tired and hopeless. “Give’em my best. All four of them. And let me know how it goes.”
Liam was going to object, he hated for them to part like this after the wonderful evening they’d just had, but just then Gunn stumbled back out, face sickly grey. Spike’s hand slipped out of Liam’s as he turned around and when he looked back, Spike was already gone.
Liam sighed and walked over to Gunn where he sat collapsed on a chair with his head in his hands. It was going to be a long night.
---------------
It was five in the morning when Liam finally got in his car and allowed himself a moment of weakness. He’d been there for Gunn, as much as he could, but Fred was his friend too and he had been so, so scared. His shoulders shook as he cried, unable to keep the built-up tension inside any longer. Finally he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. All things considered; it could have been so much worse.
He pulled out his phone and typed a quick, “Can I come over?” Too late he remembered that Spike had a shift in the morning. Although technically morning was already here. He waited but there was no reply. Spike was probably fast asleep. Not willfully ignoring him.
Sighing in disappointment Liam put the car in gear and drove home. They’d talk tomorrow. Right now, he needed sleep. Instead of the stiff drink he desperately wanted.
He slept until noon, then called an exhausted Gunn and talked to him for a few minutes before trying to call Spike. There was no answer. Well, he was working. Maybe he was one of those people who never took a personal call on the job. He usually answered messages though. And he had seemed anxious to know how it would go. Liam waited a couple of hours. Ate a late lunch, tidied up the apartment, put lube and condoms in strategic places. A day ago he would have said they were a far way away from needing them but then last night had happened.
He closed his eyes, remembering Spike’s hot mouth swallowing him. The slick tongue, the rasp of his teeth. That special suck that … Liam adjusted his pants. Fuck. He tried to think of something else and was greeted by the memory of Spike’s pale ass, the lean back, the tight heat before … Liam grimaced, his face growing hot. No, he was not going to jerk off to the memory of himself assaulting Spike. Because that’s what he’d done. Hadn’t listened, hadn’t thought of anything but his own need for … he didn’t even know what. It wasn’t sex. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he thinks maybe, maybe, it was revenge. Not on Spike. On Billy. For daring to kill himself. Spike had just been a familiar looking stand-in for his rage to focus on.
Liam dropped his head in shame. He couldn’t understand why Spike hadn’t walked out on him that day. Walked out and never looked back. Like Billy, he was way too fucking nice for his own good.
He tried calling again but still there was no answer. Strange. Even if Spike was working, he would have called by now, just to hear if there was any news. Liam’s thoughts suddenly flashed to Mears and that scrawny rookie he’d had with him last night, the fucker who said something bad enough to let Spike pale up like a ghost. What could it have been? Spike had faced plenty of assholes in his life, he seemed to take it all in stride. But not last night. Last night he’d looked … No, not scared. Shocked. Sickened. Yes, that was it. He’d looked sickened. What if …?
Shit, he didn’t have Lockley’s number, but he did have Lindsey’s, which was the next best thing.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Liam. Have you seen Spike today?”
“Why?” The tone was harsh, and for a moment Liam was taken aback. He thought they’d reached some kind of understanding after the concert. But then Lindsey added, “What’s wrong?” and Liam realized it wasn’t anger he was hearing, it was fear. Like this was a phone call Lindsey had dreaded, a call he’d been ready to receive, in the way you’re only expecting bad news. Which is to say, not at all.
“Probably nothing. I’ve just been trying to reach him, and he doesn’t answer. I know he’s supposed to be working. Could you-”
“Hang on.”
He heard muffled voices, and then someone laughed. Followed by a shuffle and then a loud, “Ow! What the fuck?”
“What was that about?” he asked when he could hear Lindsey breathe heavily into the phone.
“Nothing. Just assholes. I’m gonna have to call you back.”
The phone went dead, leaving Liam with more questions than answers and a tight knot in his stomach. While he waited, he kept trying Spike’s phone but there was still no answer. Fuck this. He threw on a jacket and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The short drive seemed to take forever. Once he got to Spike’s apartment building, he tried the buzzer, then every other name listed until someone let him in, when there was no answer.
He was halfway jogging up the stairs when his phone rang, and he almost dropped it over the railing in his hurry to answer. “Hello?”
“Yeah, it’s me. No one’s seen him. Kate’s off sick, and the asshole that took her shift went off on his own when Spike didn’t show up, never even telling anyone. Apparently, he was too relieved not having to partner with ‘a damn queer.” Lindsey huffed. “Not so relieved now he’s got my fucking footprint on his ass.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So, I don’t know. I mean, he could just be sick and too out of it to call in or answer his phone, but he looked fine yesterday.”
Liam nodded. “He was fine last night.”
There was a pause. “His place or yours?”
Liam bristled. “Neither! What the fuck does it matter?”
“Matters fuck all if you drove him home.” When Liam didn’t say anything, Lindsey added impatiently, “His car was torched, if you recall.” Liam did recall, with cheek-burning shame. “He’s had awful bad luck walking alone at night. Maybe you didn’t know.’”
Liam knew. He’d just had a lot on his mind last night. Plus, he always figured Spike was exaggerating being a magnet for hate crimes. The hospital was close enough to Spike’s apartment that he might have decided to walk. And what if those assholes Mears and Whatshisname lay in wait? Fuck.
“Do me a favor, check Mears and that little rookie shit partner of his.”
“Wells? Why?”
“They saw us together at the hospital last night. We’re okay, Gunn was having his twins,” he added quickly at Lindsey’s angry outburst, “But they looked anything but friendly.”
“How much together? Not prying, man! Asking for clarity of the situation!”
“We were both dressed up for a date.” He could hear Lindsey swear. “The rookie, Wells, said something, I didn’t hear, but I’ve never seen Spike look so … I thought he was gonna be sick. He wouldn’t tell me, and then he left while I was looking after Gunn.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t say how, and Liam decided he’d better not ask.
“Thanks. I’m just checking his apartment.” He’d climbed the last floor as he talked and stopped in his tracks. “Linds, there’s blood.”
“What? Where?”
He felt dizzy. “In the hallway outside his apartment. And on the door. It’s open.”
“Shit! Stay there! I’m coming. I’ll call it in on the way.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Liam could hear himself say as he moved towards the door. “Maybe he just cut himself.”
“Liam, stop! Don’t you go in! They might still be in there.”
Liam shook his head. “But if he’s hurt … I can help. I need to help him.”
“I know, but you have to wait. Liam, promise me you’ll wait!”
Liam pushed the door open wide. “There is so much blood.” His voice broke. There had been so much blood when... And Billy had been, Billy had been… “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him, too.”
“You’re not gonna lose him. You’re not gonna fucking lose him! But you need to stay outside. Don’t go in! Whatever you do, don’t go in!”
Liam stepped through the doorway. He felt like he was sleeping. Like he was stuck in a strange nightmare that smelled too real. Of blood and piss and vomit and something-
Spike was lying on the kitchen floor. Liam knew it was him because he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, although they were dirty and ripped and soaked in blood. His face was bruised, battered, swollen beyond recognition. Lavished in more blood. He lay curled in on himself, one arm thrown out in defense, the fingers of his right hand bent in ways they shouldn’t be able to. There was a pool of blood circling his head, a pool of vomit close by. His pants were dark, and when Liam crouched beside him he could smell urine.
Hand shaking, Liam reached out to feel Spike’s neck, the only piece of skin he could see that didn’t seem broken. His fingers felt too hot on the cool skin and for a moment he was sure he was touching Spike’s dead body. Then he felt it. A light tap under his fingertips. A pulse. He started to cry.
“Liam! Liam, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Don’t go in!”
“He’s alive. But he’s so cold. So cold.” He wanted to pull Spike into his arms but he knew he shouldn’t move him.
“Okay. Okay. Fuck. Stay there. Don’t move!”
He lay his palm gently on Spike’s cheek. “Will? Baby? Wake up!” He sobbed. “What if he never wakes up? I need him to wake up.”
“He will. He will. Stay with me.”
“I love him so much. I never … He doesn’t know. I never told him.”
“You will. Listen, Liam? We’re here. I’m coming up. Liam, listen to me. There are a lot of cops. Do you understand me? They’re coming through that door in just a moment. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Liam nodded. He understood. He just couldn’t understand why it had ever mattered.
---------------
Spike thought he could hear someone crying. Later he thought he heard voices, sometimes loud, other times whispered, but always muffled, like through deep water. He could never make out the words. Then rhythmic, soothing murmuring, maybe a prayer. Every time he tried to focus, tried to listen, he was attacked by pain, crushing him. So every time he gave up and slipped deeper away from the agony. For the longest time there was just silence and darkness and this feeling that he should be afraid, but he didn’t know why. And then suddenly the world was bright, and everything hurt something fucking awful. He closed his eyes again and went away.
The next time he woke up it was night-time, and the lights were subdued but still uncomfortably bright. He blinked. The ceiling above him was white, he could see stars out the window on his left side. He couldn’t see anything on his right side. He frowned and pain shot through his right eye. He hissed. Something moved in the dark, and he went rigid with fear. He couldn’t remember why, but he was in danger, in fact he was pretty sure he was going to die.
“Will?”
The voice sounded like it was under water. Spike’s breathing sped up, and pain shot through his ribcage. He panicked, and just like that he couldn’t breathe at all.
“Shit. Will, calm down. Help! We need help in here!”
That last part he heard clearer, because it was yelled, loud and panicked. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t make it out and besides, he was busy dying anyway. The room filled with people. Hands pushed him down and held him while he fought for his life. Something was put over his face, cold and hissing.
“Will, please. Sshh, sshh. Breathe, breathe.”
He sucked in his breath. He slept.
The next time he woke up he saw Lindsey draped over a chair by the window, dozing off. Before he had a chance to ask what had happened, Spike fell asleep again.
At one point he woke up remembering Gunn and Fred and the twins, and he started panicking because he’d dreamt they’d all died, and he couldn’t remember if it was real or not. Again his chest seized with pain, so he stopped breathing. Shadows rushed into the room. He blacked out.
When he woke up next time his nostrils were stuffed with something cold. He fumbled at his face which resulted in a world of hurt there but also a dull ache in his fingers. He looked at his hand through blurry eyes. His fingers were splinted and wrapped in white. Ow. He put his hand down again, wrinkled his nose, which didn’t do anything to make his face feel better, then promptly fell asleep again.
It took him a few more tries to stay conscious long enough to find out from a way too chipper nurse that 1) he was in the hospital, 2) he was lucky to be alive, and 3) the police needed to talk to him. He tried to ask what happened, but he was too tired. Sleeping was preferable to being awake anyway.
“It’s about time, man!”
Spike blinked his eyes until the shaggy head above him finally came into focus. “Lindsey?”
“Yeah.” Lindsey smiled down at him. “You are one lazy son of a bitch. Thought you were gonna sleep for fucking ever.”
Spike frowned. It made his eye twinge with pain, and he grimaced. Instantly Lindsey’s smile disappeared.
“Does it hurt? Are you hurting? Here, you’ve got morphine. Wait, let me.” Lindsey pushed the button hanging above Spike’s head, and after a moment a feeling of relief washed over him, easing the pain that had been crawling to the surface. “Better?”
Spike nodded. “Wha’happened?” His throat was dry, making his voice croak. Lindsey filled a paper cup with water and brought it to Spike’s lips. Most of it missed its mark, dribbling down his chin and to his chest, but what found its way down his throat tasted heavenly. He lay back down on the pillow, already exhausted. After a long pause he blinked his eyes open; he hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen closed again. Lindsey was staring out the window, his jaw ticking. “Linds? What happened?”
Lindsey closed his eyes briefly then looked back at him before looking away again. “You got jumped. They kicked the shit out of you.” He swallowed. “Goddamn near killed you.”
Spike reached up to gingerly touch his head. One side of it was covered in bandages. “This?”
Lindsey glanced over to see where he was pointing before looking away again, nodding grimly. “And your spleen bursting, some ribs piercing your lungs and…” He closed his eyes. “They turned on the gas on your stove.”
“Oh.”
Lindsey looked at him sharply. “Oh? They fucking tried to murder you, man!”
Spike closed his eyes. “Yeah.” He was starting to remember. Glimpses. Walking home in the dark. Noticing a car following him. Their voices, taunting him, calling him ugly names. Saying- His eyes flew open. “Liam?”
Lindsay shook his head. “Sorry. But he should be out soon.”
“Out?”
Lindsey blinked. “I forgot you’ve been Sleeping Beauty these last few days.”
Days? How many days? “Where is he? What happened?” Spike tried to sit up and nausea washed over him. “Where is he??”
Lindsey pushed him gently back down on the bed. “Relax, he’s fine. We had to arrest him. Well, not me, but the guys at the precinct.” He raised his hands in apology when Spike glared at him with his one good eye. “He showed up and went totally berserk, broke some stuff, threatened to kill a couple of cops he said did this.” He met Spike’s alarmed eyes. “Did they?”
Spike slumped. “Shit.” He sighed. “Yeah.” He remembered now. Not all of it but enough. How he’d tried to reach home as quickly as he could, once he realized he was being followed, figuring they’d give up once he was inside. Hearing the car doors slam as he hurried into the building. Running up the stairs, still fumbling with his keys when the first hit landed. Back of his head, then his knee, kicked so hard he felt it pop and he dropped to the floor. One of them kicking him while the other unlocked his door then dragged him inside, “Or you’re gonna wake up the whole fucking building.” After that, just pain and more pain and then nothing.
“Can you give me their names?”
He opened his eyes. Lindsey had his notebook out, his face grim. It took him a moment and then the realization hit and cold sweat broke out all over his body. “I thought you already had them.”
“No witnesses. Each swears for the other. Captain won’t order a search warrant or even interrogate them on just your boy’s hunch. Even if I told him it was probably a good one. Liam said you had a run in earlier, but as nothing happened at the time, the captain said it wasn’t enough to sully two ‘fine police officers’ good names’.”
Spike hitched his breath. His chest hurt. His chest hurt really bad. Spots were starting to appear before his eyes.
Lindsay leaned forward, laying a hand on his arm. “Hey, calm down. I ain’t gonna let anyone near you, man! Hey! Breathe. Come on!”
Spike closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In-out, in-out. Not too shallow but not too deep either, or it hurt like hell. He wanted to cry. After everything he’d done to prove himself, his life still mattered less than keeping the bloody coppers’ names clean. God, he couldn’t do this anymore. He’d had enough. He’d had more than enough. Nothing he did would ever change anything. Why was he even bothering?
“I’m sorry.” Lindsey’s low voice sounded almost as tired as Spike felt. “You don’t deserve this, man. No one deserves this.” He sighed. “Things are changing but it’s too fucking slow going. It’s the goddamn 21st century. We should be better than this.”
“You are,” Spike croaked out.
“Yeah, I’m a real fucking hero.” He sounded bitter. “Just give me their names, so I can get this show on the road. And, if you can, some details. As much as you remember.”
After drinking some more water for his dry throat, he told Lindsey what he could remember of the assault, including the names. He talked until he fell asleep. Next time he woke up, it was once again dark outside, and Liam was sitting in the chair by the window, watching him.
---------------
Liam was beginning to think Lindsey had been lying to him about Spike being finally awake. Every time they’d thought he was coming out of the coma, Spike had barely kept conscious for more than a few seconds, not even minutes, before dropping off again. It was due to the head injury but also the gas, they said. (The gas Liam hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so damn freaked out. He was supposed to be a professional, dammit! Instead, he’d just broken down, the one time it mattered most of all. Forgotten all his training, everything he knew and was. Jesus, he was lucky he didn’t finish what those fuckers started with his damn incompetence. If Spike had… He couldn’t finish the thought, but he knew that would have been it, he’d have fucking ended it. He already had the blood of one person he’d loved on his hands, he couldn’t live with another’s. Not Will’s.)
Spike had been lucky the gas hadn’t been running all night. Wells finally admitted that he’d panicked in the harsh light of day, thinking Spike would identify them once he woke up. So he’d gone back and turned on the gas in hope that Spike would choke on it. If not for the crack on the door and Liam showing up when he did, Spike would be a lot more damaged, even dead. Not that they knew exactly how damaged he was. Lindsey had said Spike sounded coherent when he spoke to him earlier, but what did he know? And the doctors refused to tell Liam anything because he wasn’t family. No matter that Spike didn’t have any other family. Only reason Liam knew as much as he did, was because Lindsey had read him the police report. It was hearing about the gas that pushed Liam over the edge, making him storm the precinct to confront the fucking murdering bastards. Instead it got him locked up, away from Spike, when those fucking pigs were the ones, when they…
He wiped at his face and looked up, straight into Spike’s blue eyes blinking open.
“Hey!”
Spike squinted as if to focus. Then a tired smile pulled at his lips. “Hey.”
Liam reached for his hand before remembering the broken fingers. He stroked Spike’s arm gently instead. “How are you feeling?”
Spike hummed. “Tired.” His voice was hoarse, scratchy, and Liam hurried to pour him some water. Spike drank through the straw, emptying the cup and then another one before laying his head back down on the pillow. “Ta, luv.”
Liam swallowed the lump in his throat. How could Spike call him that after everything he’d… “Sure.” He reached over and ran his fingers gently over Spike’s scalp, the places that weren’t covered in bandages, bruises, or cuts. The hair was already starting to grow out, but it was still very short. Like a shorthaired cat. Very soft. He smiled when Spike sighed and closed his eyes. “You want to sleep some more, go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
Spike blinked his eyes open. His right eye was better, the swelling had gone down enough for him to be able to see through it, but Liam bet it still hurt. In fact, he doubted there was any part of Spike that didn’t hurt. Even with the drugs. Spike tried to shift in the bed, and sure enough, a look of intense pain rippled over his face. “You want more morphine?”
Spike nodded slowly. He closed his eyes again. After a while, tears started forming at the corners of his eyes. Liam took his hand as gently as he could. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be all right.”
But the tears just kept trickling, until Spike’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep.
---------------
They took shifts, him and Lindsey, alternating with their work shifts. Keeping vigil, just in case. Others came by, Kate until she left for New York, Faith brought coffee and donuts. Gunn rolled in Fred in a wheelchair. She was getting stronger but the blood loss had been severe and she was easily exhausted. The bundles in her arms looked so small and innocent you’d never believe they could cause so much pain and future heartache. But like Fred said, smiling down at them, who needed more than two troublemakers anyway?
Spike slept most of the time. So much in fact, the doctors were getting worried. His brain should be clearing up the cobwebs by now. The swelling had gone down and scans didn’t show anything that would explain why he couldn’t stay awake. They kept asking him questions that he didn’t seem interested in answering and often fell asleep in the middle of. Was he seeing spots? No. Did his head hurt? No more than the cuts and bruises accounted for. Was his vision giving him trouble? No. Did he feel dizzy? No. (Liam was pretty sure Spike was lying about some of those, if not all of them. He’d caught Spike grimacing or squeezing his eyes shut a few times before he schooled his features into the same dull indifferent look that seemed to be stuck on his face.) They ran blood tests, but everything came back normal. For some reason he was just too exhausted to stay awake.
Someone from the psych ward came by to talk to him. Liam wanted to stay but she very firmly shooed him out. Only to leave shortly after, looking worried. Spike had fallen asleep again. In fact, he fell asleep every time she tried to talk to him. After the third time Liam sat down by his side as soon as she was gone, and gently took his hand.
“I know you’re not really asleep.” Spike didn’t answer but his lips twitched slightly downward. Liam sighed. “She can’t help you unless you talk to her.”
“What’s she supposed to help me with, then?” Spike opened his eyes and looked at him blankly. “’S nothing wrong with me.”
“Spike…” Liam sighed when Spike stubbornly looked away. “There is something wrong with you.”
“Well, we already knew that,” Spike said. He sounded bitter.
“Don’t. I’m talking about you sleeping all the time. That’s not normal. We need to figure out what’s causing it so we can fix it.”
Spike frowned. “We?”
“Yeah, we. You and me.” Liam raised Spike’s hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips, sticking out of the bandaging. “You’re not in this alone.” Spike jerked his hand back, his eyes darting to the door. Liam blinked. Then it suddenly dawned on him. “Will, look at me. Will. Please.”
Spike sighed. “It’s alright, pet.” He turned away and closed his eyes. “I just wanna sleep.”
“Do you know why they let me in here at all hours?”
Spike frowned.
“Because I told them you’re my boyfriend.”
Spike’s eyes snapped open.
“And do you know why I never have to take extra shifts at work? Because they know I’m here. With my boyfriend.”
Spike stared at him.
“Yep.” He couldn’t help sounding a little smug. Bet Spike never saw that coming. “I told them. So no, you’re not in this alone. I’m right here with you. All the way.”
Spike’s breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, tears tumbling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, pet. I didn’t tell’em, I swear. They wanted… I didn’t say anything. I didn’t…”
“Hey, no,” Liam said quickly when he realized what Spike was saying. “Baby, no. You’re not listening. I’m not sorry. In fact, I’m so fucking relieved. I can’t believe I’ve wasted all these years being so fucking scared.” He gently cradled Spike’s head in his palms and leaned over to kiss him. “Now can you just hurry up and get better so we can go home? I still owe you for that blowjob.”
Spike breathed a laugh that quickly turned into sobs. Liam held him as gently as he could while Spike cried and whispered in a broken voice “I’m so sorry,” and “I gave up,” and “Why me? Why do they hate me so much?” until Liam was weeping right along with him. Then he sat back and watched Spike sleep, looking more relaxed than he had since the whole fucking ordeal went down.
Continued here.
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike, Lindsey/Faith, Lindsey/Spike(sort of)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 9228 words this part
Continued from here.
Liam did say public but the place he’d picked barely met the criteria. It was dark, it was practically covered in plants to hide behind and it was as far away from their usual hangouts as it could be. But it was a restaurant, and it did have people. So, in theory it counted. He just hoped Spike wouldn’t be too disappointed in him.
He’d felt so ready, had the restaurant picked out and everything. Was gonna wear a suit and tie to show Spike this was a proper date. And then he chickened out. Kept the clothes though but lost the tie. Still felt overdressed. Obvious.
Fuck. It was just food. Friends ate food together all the time. It shouldn’t be this hard. Why was it so hard? Spike was gonna give him that sad look and shake his head and tell him-
A low whistle made him turn on his heel. Spike was standing in the doorway to the restaurant, wearing black slacks, a red unbuttoned shirt over a black t-shirt, and a short leather jacket. He looked absolutely delicious. He also seemed… impressed? “Decided to go full romance, did ya, luv?”
That’s when Lian noticed the candles on every red-clothed table, along with a tiny vase, each holding a single rose. His face suddenly felt warm. “I … I didn’t …”
“Just keep in mind I won’t put out for less than a steak.” Spike laughed at Liam’s horrified expression. “I’m taking the piss, luv. Relax.” He winked. “There bloody well better be wine as well.”
“Fuck you,” Liam muttered.
Spike’s grin widened. “Like I said.”
“Sirs?”
Liam turned around, his face growing even hotter. “We have a reservation. O’Connor.”
The waiter checked the register. “Certainly, sir. Please follow me.”
He led them to a table by the window and Liam’s old panic reared its ugly head. What if someone walked by and saw them?
“We can ask him to move us somewhere else,” Spike said when the waiter had handed them their menus. Liam glanced at him, ready to apologize, but Spike didn’t seem miffed, he just smiled kindly. Which made Liam feel even worse.
“This is fine.” Liam cleared his throat as his voice had come out a little strangled. “Never been here before, but I’ve heard the food is good.” He felt like a cheat when Spike smiled at him, as if he was pleasantly surprised that Liam had made inquiries. Truth was he’d just gone online and searched for a restaurant that looked dark and was out of the way and didn’t have too bad reviews. God, he really was the worst.
Liam ordered a bottle of wine, challenging Spike to say something but he just nodded and asked the waiter to bring them some water as well. Liam was about to growl about Spike not needing to baby him, he could drink a few glasses of wine without falling back into bad habits, when Spike said, “Have a shift tomorrow.”
He felt like a tool. “Oh. We could have done this some other night.”
Spike looked at him. “Why? You planning on us staying up late?” He snorted when Liam blushed. “God, you’re so easy.”
“Wasn’t the only easy one last Saturday,” Liam pointed out and felt stupidly happy when Spike chuckled. And then he ruined it by adding, “Was there anyone you didn’t kiss that night?”
Thankfully Spike just laughed and winked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Actually, yes, he would. He wanted to know the name of every single person who’d ever laid lips, hands, or other body parts on Spike, so he could make sure they never did it again. And that was a thought he was never sharing with Spike, ever. And should, all things considered, probably talk to a therapist about. If he had one. Fred kept hinting that he should meet this and that friend of hers that just so happened to be a shrink of some kind. Occupational hazard, he guessed, of working at a university library. He probably should talk to someone, his issues were unlikely to be resolved with a couple of beers and sex, but his father’s words still echoed too loudly in his mind. He was not to talk about it. And how on earth could he discuss his problems if he couldn’t mention the one thing that was the root of them all?
“You with me, luv?”
Liam blinked. Spike was looking at him, head tilted, and Liam wondered what thoughts he’d shown on his face to make Spike seem so worried. “Sorry. Was just thinking of my dad.”
Spike raised one eyebrow. “Yeah? Bad thoughts?” Like that hadn’t been obvious.
Liam shrugged, but then he thought, here was someone willing to listen who already knew about the one thing he was not supposed to tell anyone. Not that Spike was in any way qualified to sort out Liam’s definitely fucked up mind, but didn’t everyone say talking was the first step? “No worse than usual,” he said cautiously.
Spike nodded solemnly. “Do you talk? I’m sorry, I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
“He’s alive.” Three heart attacks and two times cancer survivor. Seemed neither Heaven nor Hell wanted him. “We talk once, twice a year. He asks me about work, and I try not to tell him to go fuck himself.”
“Ah.” Spike sipped from his glass, looking thoughtful. “So, he knows?”
Liam swallowed. “As far as he’s concerned there’s nothing to know. Not since he beat it out of me when I-” Suddenly aware of where they were, he stopped. “You know.”
Spike sighed, “Yeah.” He probably knew it all too well, having come out on multiple occasions. “So, he’s a total wanker. You must take after your mum.”
Liam couldn’t help laughing. “I thought I was a wanker?”
Spike smirked. “Different sort of wanker.” His face turned serious again. “You need back up, let me know.”
Liam snorted. “I can take him. Could probably have taken him even back then. I grew past him pretty much as soon as I hit puberty.” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Here he was a grown man, still being bullied by his scrawny old man. “It was never about that.”
“Never is, innit? I could have fought back my mum easily, but you just don’t, right?” Spike tilted his head in thought. “I couldn’t even hate her, not really. She was a very broken human being.”
“My dad’s just an asshole and a fucking bully.” Liam fiddled with his napkin. “Was always a big believer in corporal punishment. Said it built character. Guess he was wrong on that one.”
Spike put his glass down. “Liam, you’re not a bad man. No, look at me.” Spike’s face was serious when Liam finally managed to meet his eyes. “You’ve made some bloody awful choices but that doesn’t make you a bad bloke. Believe me.” He reached across the table and took hold of Liam’s hand. “I wouldn’t be here if you were. I don’t date pricks.”
Liam squeezed Spike’s hand in gratitude, then jerked back in panic when the waiter suddenly arrived by his side, bringing their food. Spike closed his eyes briefly, as if seeking strength, before looking up at the waiter with a polite smile. “Ta, mate. Looks good.”
It did but Liam had suddenly lost his appetite. Not just because of the panic that was still wreaking havoc on his nerves, but because he had, once again, disappointed Spike. Fuck. As soon as the waiter turned his back - Was that a smirk on his face? - Liam reached for Spike’s hand again. Not because he was feeling particularly brave, they were after all sitting somewhere pretty dark and secluded despite the window, but because he was scared. Scared that letting go would mean losing Spike forever. “I’m sorry. He just surprised me.”
Spike smiled but it looked a little forced. “Baby steps, right?”
Liam squeezed Spike’s hand. “Yeah, but …” He bit his lip. “I know this isn’t what you’re looking for. I know I’m putting you in an impossible situation.” He swallowed. “Any time you want out, just let me know. No hard feelings.”
“Hurt ones though, eh?” Spike said, gripping Liam’s hand tighter when he looked away. “No, listen to me. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was worth it. If I didn’t think there was something to look forward to.” He cleared his throat. “So, yeah. Not looking to give up just yet.”
“Thank you.” Liam squeezed his hand again before letting go.
Spike picked up his fork. “Dig in. After this, you’re taking me dancing. I’m joking, I’m joking!” he laughed at Liam’s horrified expression. “But I wouldn’t mind a walk on the beach. The weather’s nice.”
Liam’s heart jumped. “We could do that.” He picked up his fork as well. “Not taking you to the damn opera though.”
Spike’s laughter made him so happy he didn’t even notice the heads turning their way.
---------------
The weather was nice. The beach was more or less deserted, it wasn’t really the season for moon bathing, but they still crossed a few peoples’ paths, most of them couples. After a while Spike felt the back of Liam’s hand bump against his own, and before he knew it Liam’s fingers had tangled with his, and just like that they were holding hands. He glanced up at Liam, but he was looking straight ahead, like the dunes of sand were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. But there was a nervous tick in his jaw, and the palm pressed against Spike’s was damp with sweat.
Spike squeezed his hand, and they walked on, with the waves lapping lazily at the shore, and the hum of city life just a few feet away. Only once did Liam stiffen, when a patrol car drove by on the road above, but it didn’t slow down, and once it passed, he relaxed and shot Spike an apologetic grimace. He’d been doing that a lot, apologizing for small things when they both knew the main problem was so much bigger. But like he’d said, baby steps. Although Spike had to admit he had a hard time imagining the steps growing much bigger in the near future. Liam was too scared, literally terrified, that the wrong people would find out. And if he didn’t face that fear, nothing would change. Spike couldn’t help wondering if he was more afraid of the fucking bigots, like Larry, or of his more open-minded mates figuring out what Billy must have been to him and hating him for turning his back on the kid, resulting in his suicide.
They reached the pier, and Spike slowed down, presuming they’d turn around and call it a night, but Liam kept going until they were underneath the structure, hidden in its shadows. Then he turned around and pushed Spike up against one of the pillars, grabbed his face between his hands and kissed him with such desperation Spike’s knees almost buckled. They stood there, hidden in the darkness, and kissed and kissed, like it was their last day on Earth, and they wanted to go out wrapped up like one single being.
Liam finally pulled back, only to rest their foreheads together. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”
Spike swallowed. “Ditto.”
They were breathing heavily, the air between them hot and humid and tasting of red wine.
“I’m sorry. For being so damn jumpy. I’m trying, but it’s really fucking hard.”
“I know, pet. It’s okay.” It wasn’t really, but Spike wanted to believe, wanted to hope, that it wouldn’t always be like this. Dark restaurants - yes, he’d noticed but he’d decided to give Liam some slack - shadowed corners, hidden kisses. Shame.
“It’s not. I’m treating you like a dirty secret, and you deserve better.” Liam took a deep breath. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you but … Fuck, this is hard.”
“Hard again? You talking in general or more physically? Because I’m right there with you.”
Like he’d hoped, Liam laughed and some of the tension eased. “Oh, that part is definitely hard. And stop teasing, because I’m trying really hard to be a gentleman here.”
“Again with the hard. I’m starting to think you’re trying to tell me something.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to be serious here. I wanted to ask, if maybe, if you’re okay with it, we could, maybe, I don’t know, have dinner with, you know, some friends of mine.”
Spike laughed. “Bloody hell, pet, took you so long to get that out I thought you were asking if I wanted to join a sex club.”
Liam scowled. “Fred and Gunn. She wants to meet you, so, dinner. That okay with you?”
“Well, since you ask so nicely.”
“Good.”
Liam kissed him again, softer this time, but once his hands were cradling Spike’s head their kisses soon turned as heated as before. Liam’s lips travelled down to Spike’s throat making him groan and throw his head back, almost knocking himself out on the pillar behind him.
“Jesus, luv. Ungh.”
His own hands slipped under Liam’s jacket, tugging at the shirt so he could slide his fingers underneath, feeling the heat of Liam’s skin. Liam groaned, grabbing Spike’s hips and pulling him even closer. He could feel Liam’s cock through the thin fabric of his slacks, pressing hard against his hipbone, searching for friction. Oh God, this was such a bad idea. But fuck if he cared.
His feet suddenly slipped in the dry sand, and he scrambled for purchase, arms tight around Liam’s waist, but the further down he went the better of a view it was, so he let go, pushing Liam back so he could get his knees underneath him before he hit the ground.
“What are you … Spike, you don’t … Oh Jesus!”
Spike fought desperately with Liam’s belt, finally managing to get it open, then the top button of Liam’s pants and the zipper… Mmm, yes. He nuzzled the damp spot on Liam’s boxer briefs, inhaling the warm scent of cotton, clean skin and arousal. He could hear Liam groan ‘Fuck,’ above him before Liam’s hand came to rest on his head, slightly trembling. For the first time Spike really regretted shaving his head because how could he have forgotten how much he loved someone running their fingers through his hair as he was sucking them off? Not that he was, yet, but as soon as he got Liam’s underwear out of the way … There. Yes!
As he worked Spike couldn’t help listening, for footsteps, for shouting, for the sound of a police siren. He didn’t hear any of these things, but he didn’t hear the sounds he would have expected either. Hissing, groaning, grunts, even babbling. Liam was quiet. So quiet he hardly seemed to be breathing. Once the strangeness of it penetrated Spike’s mind, he slowed down and stopped, feeling suddenly self-conscious and frankly worried, because maybe he’d misread the situation. He should have asked, should have made sure they were on the same page. Just then he heard a soft sigh that sounded almost like a sob, and Liam’s hand stroked his buzzed head, urging him silently on. “Please,” he whispered, his voice so low it was hardly audible over the soft laps of the waves, just a few feet below them.
Maybe he was scared that someone would hear him. Maybe he was just scared in general. For all Spike knew Liam was always like this, always this quiet, doing something he still felt so ashamed for. Although he did remember Liam’s hard demanding voice, that disastrous time they almost had sex. Technically did have sex, although it had been cut off rather abruptly, due to reasons he did very much not want to think about right now.
Instead, he got back on track, pulling out all his best tricks, until even Liam couldn’t keep quiet anymore, He was whimpering behind tight-pressed lips, his breathing stuttering to the point of panting, if he’d only dared open his mouth. When Spike felt Liam’s thighs start to tremble, he held on tight and didn’t let go, not even when Liam tried to push him away in warning. Liam’s compressed groan came simultaneously as Spike’s mouth filled with a salty taste he had to admit he had not missed. Discreetly he pulled off and spit in the sand before raising his head. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the look of almost reverent gratitude on Liam’s face. Gratitude and tears. Bugger.
Spike got to his feet with concern, wanting to ask Liam if he was alright, but instead he was pulled into strong arms and kissed until he started seeing stars from lack of oxygen. When Liam finally let him go they were both panting loudly. “Thank you. That was … Thank you.”
Spike wanted to say it was just a blowjob, and it wasn’t even his best performance, but he had a feeling this was about something more than just a sloppy blowjob on a shadowed beach, so he just said, “Anytime, luv,” and kissed him again.
After a long while Liam pulled away and took a step back. The air had turned much cooler while they were busy, even the breeze had picked up a bit. Spike shivered and Liam instantly pulled him close again. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just a bit cold. We should get back.”
Liam tucked himself in, suddenly embarrassed. “I could …”
“You can take me home before my bloody balls freeze off. And other appendices I’d rather stay attached.”
“Oh. Okay.” They started walking. After a while Liam glanced at Spike and said, “Me too.”
Spike looked at him confused. “Sorry?”
“I’d rather they’d stay attached, too.” Liam took Spike’s hand and smiled crookedly. “For future reference.”
Spike threw his head back and laughed.
They were silent in the car on the way home, but it was a comfortable silence. It was late and Spike suddenly felt tired, the exhaustion of good food and wine, fresh air and exercise, not the bone-weary bleakness that had so often worn him out the last few weeks. When Liam stopped the car outside Spike’s apartment building, Spike’s eyes were drooping.
“Thank you. It was …” Liam cleared his throat, seemingly lost for words. “I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s okay?”
“Sure, pet. I get off around five. We could go for a pint.”
“I’d like that.”
Spike was about to climb out of the car when Liam’s phone rang. He fished the phone out of his pocket, frowning when he saw who was calling. Spike was going to slip out and leave him to it but Liam put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
“Gunn?” His pupils dilated and he looked over at Spike, blinking furiously. “I’m on my way,” he said. “Five minutes.” He clicked the phone closed and for a moment he just sat still staring at Spike.
“What?”
Liam seemed to brace himself then he squared his shoulders and turned the ignition. “It’s Fred,” he said, before putting the truck in gear and flooring the pedal so hard the door on Spike’s side banged shut before he even had a chance to reach for it.
---------------
“It’s going to be okay. Gunn, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! She’s my wife and they won’t even let me in to be with her! She’s my wife! They’re my, my babies.” Gunn’s voice broke and he swiped at his eyes before heading once again toward the doors that had been literally shut in their face.
Liam grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “There’s nothing you can do. You would just be in the way. You don’t want that.”
Gunn fought to get away but then all strength left his body, and he collapsed in Liam’s arms, sobbing. “Oh God, Lee, there was so much blood. What if …? I can’t, Lee, I can’t live without her.” He shook his head when Liam tried to sooth him. “And our babies. Oh God, please don’t let anything happen to our babies.”
Liam’s heart ached. He could only imagine Gunn’s agony. “Come on, let’s sit down. Come on, just over here. Spike, could you get us some water?”
Spike, who had been sitting quietly to the side, lifted his head, looking surprised that Liam remembered he was there. He nodded and disappeared down the hall while Liam got Gunn settled on one of the obligatory uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room and sat down beside him. His arm was still around Gunn’s shoulders, holding him tight. It didn’t even register that just a few days ago it was the kind of intimacy he never would have thought himself capable of showing in public. Gunn was trembling, his shirt was stuck to his sweaty back and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen with tears.
“Okay, just breathe and tell me what they said.”
Gun squeezed his eyes shut, like the memory was too painful to bear. “They said something, something might have torn. Something … I can’t remember! We still had a week. I was supposed to have another week with her,” he sobbed.
“And you will, you and the babies. Weeks, years, decades. They are going to be all right.”
“You can’t know that.”
“She’s tough as nails. And if those babies are anything like the both of you, they are going to come out of there kicking and screaming.”
That got him a shaky smile. “They have been kicking up a storm lately.” He suddenly looked panicked. “What if they were trying to tell us something was wrong, and we didn’t listen? I didn’t go with her last time she had a sonogram. What if they missed something? If I’d been there-”
“You wouldn’t have been able to tell one grey blob from the other. You told me yourself they looked like aliens.”
“But…”
“It’s not your fault,” Liam said firmly. “None of this is your fault. Sometimes things just happen. But she’s strong. And they’re strong. It’s going to be okay.”
“Here.”
He looked up to see Spike standing next to them, holding a bottle of water. He looked unexpectedly nervous. Liam couldn’t understand why until he spotted the cops that had just come in, escorting an obviously drunk woman covered in blood from a head wound. Oh. Liam started to panic but, just then Gunn jumped to his feet, mumbling that he was going to be sick. The restrooms were near enough that Liam just waved him in the right direction, hoping he’d make it in time. Then turned around and faced the cops that were walking over, looking concerned but also curious as their gaze flitted from him to Spike, who had shied away, making them look even more conspicuous. A quick assessment made Liam realise that of the three of them, he and Spike were the obvious match, being nicely dressed while Gunn was in his pj pants and a t-shirt. Shit.
“Hey. Everything all right?”
Liam didn’t think it was his place to explain Fred’s medical problems, especially as he still wasn’t sure what exactly they were, except that something had clearly gone horribly wrong. Instead he just said, “His wife is having babies,” and left it at that.
The older cop chuckled. “That’ll do it.” He glanced at Spike before looking back at Liam. “Didn’t know you two were pals.” His voice sounded casual, the smile looked easy, but the cold and calculating look in his eyes made Liam uneasy.
“He saved my life,” Spike said, voice carefully blank. The cops only glanced at him before turning their attention back on Liam, like they didn’t deem Spike worthy of their time. Their fellow cop. It made Liam’s blood boil.
“Was a while ago, right?” The stockier cop - Fuck, what was his name again? Mears? - curled his lip. “He still bothering you?”
Liam stilled. This was it. This was the moment. This was Billy standing all alone, looking to Liam to be his savior. Except this time he wouldn’t turn away. This time-
“Charles Gunn?”
Liam whipped around. The doctor heading their way looked exhausted. Or was it grim? Oh God. “He’s in the men’s room, puking his guts out. I’m a friend of the family.”
The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “When he comes out, tell him he can come see her but just for a moment.”
“Is she okay? Are the babies okay?” When the doctor hesitated, Liam quickly added. “He’s gonna faint the moment I tell him you were here unless you give me something. He’s really freaking out.”
The doctor nodded. “She’s stable for now but we’re prepping her for surgery.” She hesitated again then added, “Their heartbeats are dropping so we really can’t wait. Tell him to hurry.” Then she turned on her heel and hurried back through the doors.
Liam felt numb. He pushed past the cops that were still standing there, like a couple of vultures, and hurried to the men’s room. Gunn was standing by the sink, staring into the mirror, his whole head covered in drops of water. He looked up when Liam came in, his eyes widening in terror when he saw who it was. “Is she..?”
“They’re taking her to surgery.” Liam decided not to mention the twins’ heartbeats dropping, in case Gunn really might faint. “You can see her before she goes in but only for a minute so you better hurry.”
“Oh God.”
Gunn pushed past him through the door. He had already disappeared when Liam stepped back into the waiting room. The cops were still there, still ignoring Spike, except for occasionally glancing his way. They didn’t appear openly hostile, more just tactlessly unfriendly. Still. There was something about them Liam didn’t like. The sooner they left, the better.
“Complications?” Mears asked. The other one, a twitchy weasel with a haircut that reminded Liam uncomfortably of Hitler Youth, still hadn’t said a word.
“Possibly.”
Mears nodded. “Hope it all turns out all right.” He shot Spike another look then shoved the hat back on his head and nudged his partner. “We better get going.”
The weasel nodded at Liam but as they passed Spike, Liam could hear him sneer something that made Spike’s face turn white. His hands balled into fists, but he stood his ground, never looking away until the cops were out the door, chuckling.
Liam stood frozen. He should go after them. Should go wipe those sneers right off their ugly fucking faces. But he couldn’t move. He could hardly even choke out, “What did he say?”
Spike shook his head. He was still pale although spots of red had shown up in his cheeks. “He was just being a fucking prick.”
Liam swallowed. “What. Did. He. Fucking. Say?”
Spike threw up his hands. “Why? So you can beat him up? Drop it.”
“Will.”
Spike sighed. He shook his head. “I’m gonna go, luv. This place… Coppers drop by here all the time. Better I not be here.”
He looked so dejected that Liam was across the floor and taking his hand before he had a chance to think about it. “I’m sorry about them. I’m sorry about all of them fucking assholes treating you like shit.”
And I’m sorry for being such a fucking coward. He wanted to tell Spike that he had been ready, that he was going to stand up for him, for both of them, he would have if the doctor hadn’t interrupted them. But why would Spike believe him when he wasn’t sure he believed it himself?
“It’s alright, pet.” Spike rolled his eyes. “I mean, no, it’s not but fuck’em, right?” He smiled but it looked tired and hopeless. “Give’em my best. All four of them. And let me know how it goes.”
Liam was going to object, he hated for them to part like this after the wonderful evening they’d just had, but just then Gunn stumbled back out, face sickly grey. Spike’s hand slipped out of Liam’s as he turned around and when he looked back, Spike was already gone.
Liam sighed and walked over to Gunn where he sat collapsed on a chair with his head in his hands. It was going to be a long night.
---------------
It was five in the morning when Liam finally got in his car and allowed himself a moment of weakness. He’d been there for Gunn, as much as he could, but Fred was his friend too and he had been so, so scared. His shoulders shook as he cried, unable to keep the built-up tension inside any longer. Finally he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. All things considered; it could have been so much worse.
He pulled out his phone and typed a quick, “Can I come over?” Too late he remembered that Spike had a shift in the morning. Although technically morning was already here. He waited but there was no reply. Spike was probably fast asleep. Not willfully ignoring him.
Sighing in disappointment Liam put the car in gear and drove home. They’d talk tomorrow. Right now, he needed sleep. Instead of the stiff drink he desperately wanted.
He slept until noon, then called an exhausted Gunn and talked to him for a few minutes before trying to call Spike. There was no answer. Well, he was working. Maybe he was one of those people who never took a personal call on the job. He usually answered messages though. And he had seemed anxious to know how it would go. Liam waited a couple of hours. Ate a late lunch, tidied up the apartment, put lube and condoms in strategic places. A day ago he would have said they were a far way away from needing them but then last night had happened.
He closed his eyes, remembering Spike’s hot mouth swallowing him. The slick tongue, the rasp of his teeth. That special suck that … Liam adjusted his pants. Fuck. He tried to think of something else and was greeted by the memory of Spike’s pale ass, the lean back, the tight heat before … Liam grimaced, his face growing hot. No, he was not going to jerk off to the memory of himself assaulting Spike. Because that’s what he’d done. Hadn’t listened, hadn’t thought of anything but his own need for … he didn’t even know what. It wasn’t sex. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he thinks maybe, maybe, it was revenge. Not on Spike. On Billy. For daring to kill himself. Spike had just been a familiar looking stand-in for his rage to focus on.
Liam dropped his head in shame. He couldn’t understand why Spike hadn’t walked out on him that day. Walked out and never looked back. Like Billy, he was way too fucking nice for his own good.
He tried calling again but still there was no answer. Strange. Even if Spike was working, he would have called by now, just to hear if there was any news. Liam’s thoughts suddenly flashed to Mears and that scrawny rookie he’d had with him last night, the fucker who said something bad enough to let Spike pale up like a ghost. What could it have been? Spike had faced plenty of assholes in his life, he seemed to take it all in stride. But not last night. Last night he’d looked … No, not scared. Shocked. Sickened. Yes, that was it. He’d looked sickened. What if …?
Shit, he didn’t have Lockley’s number, but he did have Lindsey’s, which was the next best thing.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Liam. Have you seen Spike today?”
“Why?” The tone was harsh, and for a moment Liam was taken aback. He thought they’d reached some kind of understanding after the concert. But then Lindsey added, “What’s wrong?” and Liam realized it wasn’t anger he was hearing, it was fear. Like this was a phone call Lindsey had dreaded, a call he’d been ready to receive, in the way you’re only expecting bad news. Which is to say, not at all.
“Probably nothing. I’ve just been trying to reach him, and he doesn’t answer. I know he’s supposed to be working. Could you-”
“Hang on.”
He heard muffled voices, and then someone laughed. Followed by a shuffle and then a loud, “Ow! What the fuck?”
“What was that about?” he asked when he could hear Lindsey breathe heavily into the phone.
“Nothing. Just assholes. I’m gonna have to call you back.”
The phone went dead, leaving Liam with more questions than answers and a tight knot in his stomach. While he waited, he kept trying Spike’s phone but there was still no answer. Fuck this. He threw on a jacket and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The short drive seemed to take forever. Once he got to Spike’s apartment building, he tried the buzzer, then every other name listed until someone let him in, when there was no answer.
He was halfway jogging up the stairs when his phone rang, and he almost dropped it over the railing in his hurry to answer. “Hello?”
“Yeah, it’s me. No one’s seen him. Kate’s off sick, and the asshole that took her shift went off on his own when Spike didn’t show up, never even telling anyone. Apparently, he was too relieved not having to partner with ‘a damn queer.” Lindsey huffed. “Not so relieved now he’s got my fucking footprint on his ass.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So, I don’t know. I mean, he could just be sick and too out of it to call in or answer his phone, but he looked fine yesterday.”
Liam nodded. “He was fine last night.”
There was a pause. “His place or yours?”
Liam bristled. “Neither! What the fuck does it matter?”
“Matters fuck all if you drove him home.” When Liam didn’t say anything, Lindsey added impatiently, “His car was torched, if you recall.” Liam did recall, with cheek-burning shame. “He’s had awful bad luck walking alone at night. Maybe you didn’t know.’”
Liam knew. He’d just had a lot on his mind last night. Plus, he always figured Spike was exaggerating being a magnet for hate crimes. The hospital was close enough to Spike’s apartment that he might have decided to walk. And what if those assholes Mears and Whatshisname lay in wait? Fuck.
“Do me a favor, check Mears and that little rookie shit partner of his.”
“Wells? Why?”
“They saw us together at the hospital last night. We’re okay, Gunn was having his twins,” he added quickly at Lindsey’s angry outburst, “But they looked anything but friendly.”
“How much together? Not prying, man! Asking for clarity of the situation!”
“We were both dressed up for a date.” He could hear Lindsey swear. “The rookie, Wells, said something, I didn’t hear, but I’ve never seen Spike look so … I thought he was gonna be sick. He wouldn’t tell me, and then he left while I was looking after Gunn.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t say how, and Liam decided he’d better not ask.
“Thanks. I’m just checking his apartment.” He’d climbed the last floor as he talked and stopped in his tracks. “Linds, there’s blood.”
“What? Where?”
He felt dizzy. “In the hallway outside his apartment. And on the door. It’s open.”
“Shit! Stay there! I’m coming. I’ll call it in on the way.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Liam could hear himself say as he moved towards the door. “Maybe he just cut himself.”
“Liam, stop! Don’t you go in! They might still be in there.”
Liam shook his head. “But if he’s hurt … I can help. I need to help him.”
“I know, but you have to wait. Liam, promise me you’ll wait!”
Liam pushed the door open wide. “There is so much blood.” His voice broke. There had been so much blood when... And Billy had been, Billy had been… “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him, too.”
“You’re not gonna lose him. You’re not gonna fucking lose him! But you need to stay outside. Don’t go in! Whatever you do, don’t go in!”
Liam stepped through the doorway. He felt like he was sleeping. Like he was stuck in a strange nightmare that smelled too real. Of blood and piss and vomit and something-
Spike was lying on the kitchen floor. Liam knew it was him because he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, although they were dirty and ripped and soaked in blood. His face was bruised, battered, swollen beyond recognition. Lavished in more blood. He lay curled in on himself, one arm thrown out in defense, the fingers of his right hand bent in ways they shouldn’t be able to. There was a pool of blood circling his head, a pool of vomit close by. His pants were dark, and when Liam crouched beside him he could smell urine.
Hand shaking, Liam reached out to feel Spike’s neck, the only piece of skin he could see that didn’t seem broken. His fingers felt too hot on the cool skin and for a moment he was sure he was touching Spike’s dead body. Then he felt it. A light tap under his fingertips. A pulse. He started to cry.
“Liam! Liam, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Don’t go in!”
“He’s alive. But he’s so cold. So cold.” He wanted to pull Spike into his arms but he knew he shouldn’t move him.
“Okay. Okay. Fuck. Stay there. Don’t move!”
He lay his palm gently on Spike’s cheek. “Will? Baby? Wake up!” He sobbed. “What if he never wakes up? I need him to wake up.”
“He will. He will. Stay with me.”
“I love him so much. I never … He doesn’t know. I never told him.”
“You will. Listen, Liam? We’re here. I’m coming up. Liam, listen to me. There are a lot of cops. Do you understand me? They’re coming through that door in just a moment. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Liam nodded. He understood. He just couldn’t understand why it had ever mattered.
---------------
Spike thought he could hear someone crying. Later he thought he heard voices, sometimes loud, other times whispered, but always muffled, like through deep water. He could never make out the words. Then rhythmic, soothing murmuring, maybe a prayer. Every time he tried to focus, tried to listen, he was attacked by pain, crushing him. So every time he gave up and slipped deeper away from the agony. For the longest time there was just silence and darkness and this feeling that he should be afraid, but he didn’t know why. And then suddenly the world was bright, and everything hurt something fucking awful. He closed his eyes again and went away.
The next time he woke up it was night-time, and the lights were subdued but still uncomfortably bright. He blinked. The ceiling above him was white, he could see stars out the window on his left side. He couldn’t see anything on his right side. He frowned and pain shot through his right eye. He hissed. Something moved in the dark, and he went rigid with fear. He couldn’t remember why, but he was in danger, in fact he was pretty sure he was going to die.
“Will?”
The voice sounded like it was under water. Spike’s breathing sped up, and pain shot through his ribcage. He panicked, and just like that he couldn’t breathe at all.
“Shit. Will, calm down. Help! We need help in here!”
That last part he heard clearer, because it was yelled, loud and panicked. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t make it out and besides, he was busy dying anyway. The room filled with people. Hands pushed him down and held him while he fought for his life. Something was put over his face, cold and hissing.
“Will, please. Sshh, sshh. Breathe, breathe.”
He sucked in his breath. He slept.
The next time he woke up he saw Lindsey draped over a chair by the window, dozing off. Before he had a chance to ask what had happened, Spike fell asleep again.
At one point he woke up remembering Gunn and Fred and the twins, and he started panicking because he’d dreamt they’d all died, and he couldn’t remember if it was real or not. Again his chest seized with pain, so he stopped breathing. Shadows rushed into the room. He blacked out.
When he woke up next time his nostrils were stuffed with something cold. He fumbled at his face which resulted in a world of hurt there but also a dull ache in his fingers. He looked at his hand through blurry eyes. His fingers were splinted and wrapped in white. Ow. He put his hand down again, wrinkled his nose, which didn’t do anything to make his face feel better, then promptly fell asleep again.
It took him a few more tries to stay conscious long enough to find out from a way too chipper nurse that 1) he was in the hospital, 2) he was lucky to be alive, and 3) the police needed to talk to him. He tried to ask what happened, but he was too tired. Sleeping was preferable to being awake anyway.
“It’s about time, man!”
Spike blinked his eyes until the shaggy head above him finally came into focus. “Lindsey?”
“Yeah.” Lindsey smiled down at him. “You are one lazy son of a bitch. Thought you were gonna sleep for fucking ever.”
Spike frowned. It made his eye twinge with pain, and he grimaced. Instantly Lindsey’s smile disappeared.
“Does it hurt? Are you hurting? Here, you’ve got morphine. Wait, let me.” Lindsey pushed the button hanging above Spike’s head, and after a moment a feeling of relief washed over him, easing the pain that had been crawling to the surface. “Better?”
Spike nodded. “Wha’happened?” His throat was dry, making his voice croak. Lindsey filled a paper cup with water and brought it to Spike’s lips. Most of it missed its mark, dribbling down his chin and to his chest, but what found its way down his throat tasted heavenly. He lay back down on the pillow, already exhausted. After a long pause he blinked his eyes open; he hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen closed again. Lindsey was staring out the window, his jaw ticking. “Linds? What happened?”
Lindsey closed his eyes briefly then looked back at him before looking away again. “You got jumped. They kicked the shit out of you.” He swallowed. “Goddamn near killed you.”
Spike reached up to gingerly touch his head. One side of it was covered in bandages. “This?”
Lindsey glanced over to see where he was pointing before looking away again, nodding grimly. “And your spleen bursting, some ribs piercing your lungs and…” He closed his eyes. “They turned on the gas on your stove.”
“Oh.”
Lindsey looked at him sharply. “Oh? They fucking tried to murder you, man!”
Spike closed his eyes. “Yeah.” He was starting to remember. Glimpses. Walking home in the dark. Noticing a car following him. Their voices, taunting him, calling him ugly names. Saying- His eyes flew open. “Liam?”
Lindsay shook his head. “Sorry. But he should be out soon.”
“Out?”
Lindsey blinked. “I forgot you’ve been Sleeping Beauty these last few days.”
Days? How many days? “Where is he? What happened?” Spike tried to sit up and nausea washed over him. “Where is he??”
Lindsey pushed him gently back down on the bed. “Relax, he’s fine. We had to arrest him. Well, not me, but the guys at the precinct.” He raised his hands in apology when Spike glared at him with his one good eye. “He showed up and went totally berserk, broke some stuff, threatened to kill a couple of cops he said did this.” He met Spike’s alarmed eyes. “Did they?”
Spike slumped. “Shit.” He sighed. “Yeah.” He remembered now. Not all of it but enough. How he’d tried to reach home as quickly as he could, once he realized he was being followed, figuring they’d give up once he was inside. Hearing the car doors slam as he hurried into the building. Running up the stairs, still fumbling with his keys when the first hit landed. Back of his head, then his knee, kicked so hard he felt it pop and he dropped to the floor. One of them kicking him while the other unlocked his door then dragged him inside, “Or you’re gonna wake up the whole fucking building.” After that, just pain and more pain and then nothing.
“Can you give me their names?”
He opened his eyes. Lindsey had his notebook out, his face grim. It took him a moment and then the realization hit and cold sweat broke out all over his body. “I thought you already had them.”
“No witnesses. Each swears for the other. Captain won’t order a search warrant or even interrogate them on just your boy’s hunch. Even if I told him it was probably a good one. Liam said you had a run in earlier, but as nothing happened at the time, the captain said it wasn’t enough to sully two ‘fine police officers’ good names’.”
Spike hitched his breath. His chest hurt. His chest hurt really bad. Spots were starting to appear before his eyes.
Lindsay leaned forward, laying a hand on his arm. “Hey, calm down. I ain’t gonna let anyone near you, man! Hey! Breathe. Come on!”
Spike closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In-out, in-out. Not too shallow but not too deep either, or it hurt like hell. He wanted to cry. After everything he’d done to prove himself, his life still mattered less than keeping the bloody coppers’ names clean. God, he couldn’t do this anymore. He’d had enough. He’d had more than enough. Nothing he did would ever change anything. Why was he even bothering?
“I’m sorry.” Lindsey’s low voice sounded almost as tired as Spike felt. “You don’t deserve this, man. No one deserves this.” He sighed. “Things are changing but it’s too fucking slow going. It’s the goddamn 21st century. We should be better than this.”
“You are,” Spike croaked out.
“Yeah, I’m a real fucking hero.” He sounded bitter. “Just give me their names, so I can get this show on the road. And, if you can, some details. As much as you remember.”
After drinking some more water for his dry throat, he told Lindsey what he could remember of the assault, including the names. He talked until he fell asleep. Next time he woke up, it was once again dark outside, and Liam was sitting in the chair by the window, watching him.
---------------
Liam was beginning to think Lindsey had been lying to him about Spike being finally awake. Every time they’d thought he was coming out of the coma, Spike had barely kept conscious for more than a few seconds, not even minutes, before dropping off again. It was due to the head injury but also the gas, they said. (The gas Liam hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so damn freaked out. He was supposed to be a professional, dammit! Instead, he’d just broken down, the one time it mattered most of all. Forgotten all his training, everything he knew and was. Jesus, he was lucky he didn’t finish what those fuckers started with his damn incompetence. If Spike had… He couldn’t finish the thought, but he knew that would have been it, he’d have fucking ended it. He already had the blood of one person he’d loved on his hands, he couldn’t live with another’s. Not Will’s.)
Spike had been lucky the gas hadn’t been running all night. Wells finally admitted that he’d panicked in the harsh light of day, thinking Spike would identify them once he woke up. So he’d gone back and turned on the gas in hope that Spike would choke on it. If not for the crack on the door and Liam showing up when he did, Spike would be a lot more damaged, even dead. Not that they knew exactly how damaged he was. Lindsey had said Spike sounded coherent when he spoke to him earlier, but what did he know? And the doctors refused to tell Liam anything because he wasn’t family. No matter that Spike didn’t have any other family. Only reason Liam knew as much as he did, was because Lindsey had read him the police report. It was hearing about the gas that pushed Liam over the edge, making him storm the precinct to confront the fucking murdering bastards. Instead it got him locked up, away from Spike, when those fucking pigs were the ones, when they…
He wiped at his face and looked up, straight into Spike’s blue eyes blinking open.
“Hey!”
Spike squinted as if to focus. Then a tired smile pulled at his lips. “Hey.”
Liam reached for his hand before remembering the broken fingers. He stroked Spike’s arm gently instead. “How are you feeling?”
Spike hummed. “Tired.” His voice was hoarse, scratchy, and Liam hurried to pour him some water. Spike drank through the straw, emptying the cup and then another one before laying his head back down on the pillow. “Ta, luv.”
Liam swallowed the lump in his throat. How could Spike call him that after everything he’d… “Sure.” He reached over and ran his fingers gently over Spike’s scalp, the places that weren’t covered in bandages, bruises, or cuts. The hair was already starting to grow out, but it was still very short. Like a shorthaired cat. Very soft. He smiled when Spike sighed and closed his eyes. “You want to sleep some more, go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
Spike blinked his eyes open. His right eye was better, the swelling had gone down enough for him to be able to see through it, but Liam bet it still hurt. In fact, he doubted there was any part of Spike that didn’t hurt. Even with the drugs. Spike tried to shift in the bed, and sure enough, a look of intense pain rippled over his face. “You want more morphine?”
Spike nodded slowly. He closed his eyes again. After a while, tears started forming at the corners of his eyes. Liam took his hand as gently as he could. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be all right.”
But the tears just kept trickling, until Spike’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep.
---------------
They took shifts, him and Lindsey, alternating with their work shifts. Keeping vigil, just in case. Others came by, Kate until she left for New York, Faith brought coffee and donuts. Gunn rolled in Fred in a wheelchair. She was getting stronger but the blood loss had been severe and she was easily exhausted. The bundles in her arms looked so small and innocent you’d never believe they could cause so much pain and future heartache. But like Fred said, smiling down at them, who needed more than two troublemakers anyway?
Spike slept most of the time. So much in fact, the doctors were getting worried. His brain should be clearing up the cobwebs by now. The swelling had gone down and scans didn’t show anything that would explain why he couldn’t stay awake. They kept asking him questions that he didn’t seem interested in answering and often fell asleep in the middle of. Was he seeing spots? No. Did his head hurt? No more than the cuts and bruises accounted for. Was his vision giving him trouble? No. Did he feel dizzy? No. (Liam was pretty sure Spike was lying about some of those, if not all of them. He’d caught Spike grimacing or squeezing his eyes shut a few times before he schooled his features into the same dull indifferent look that seemed to be stuck on his face.) They ran blood tests, but everything came back normal. For some reason he was just too exhausted to stay awake.
Someone from the psych ward came by to talk to him. Liam wanted to stay but she very firmly shooed him out. Only to leave shortly after, looking worried. Spike had fallen asleep again. In fact, he fell asleep every time she tried to talk to him. After the third time Liam sat down by his side as soon as she was gone, and gently took his hand.
“I know you’re not really asleep.” Spike didn’t answer but his lips twitched slightly downward. Liam sighed. “She can’t help you unless you talk to her.”
“What’s she supposed to help me with, then?” Spike opened his eyes and looked at him blankly. “’S nothing wrong with me.”
“Spike…” Liam sighed when Spike stubbornly looked away. “There is something wrong with you.”
“Well, we already knew that,” Spike said. He sounded bitter.
“Don’t. I’m talking about you sleeping all the time. That’s not normal. We need to figure out what’s causing it so we can fix it.”
Spike frowned. “We?”
“Yeah, we. You and me.” Liam raised Spike’s hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips, sticking out of the bandaging. “You’re not in this alone.” Spike jerked his hand back, his eyes darting to the door. Liam blinked. Then it suddenly dawned on him. “Will, look at me. Will. Please.”
Spike sighed. “It’s alright, pet.” He turned away and closed his eyes. “I just wanna sleep.”
“Do you know why they let me in here at all hours?”
Spike frowned.
“Because I told them you’re my boyfriend.”
Spike’s eyes snapped open.
“And do you know why I never have to take extra shifts at work? Because they know I’m here. With my boyfriend.”
Spike stared at him.
“Yep.” He couldn’t help sounding a little smug. Bet Spike never saw that coming. “I told them. So no, you’re not in this alone. I’m right here with you. All the way.”
Spike’s breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, tears tumbling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, pet. I didn’t tell’em, I swear. They wanted… I didn’t say anything. I didn’t…”
“Hey, no,” Liam said quickly when he realized what Spike was saying. “Baby, no. You’re not listening. I’m not sorry. In fact, I’m so fucking relieved. I can’t believe I’ve wasted all these years being so fucking scared.” He gently cradled Spike’s head in his palms and leaned over to kiss him. “Now can you just hurry up and get better so we can go home? I still owe you for that blowjob.”
Spike breathed a laugh that quickly turned into sobs. Liam held him as gently as he could while Spike cried and whispered in a broken voice “I’m so sorry,” and “I gave up,” and “Why me? Why do they hate me so much?” until Liam was weeping right along with him. Then he sat back and watched Spike sleep, looking more relaxed than he had since the whole fucking ordeal went down.
Continued here.