Fic: Blackout 4/6

Jun 04, 2006 13:27

Previous chapters here

Blackout, Chapter 4

An hour later Spike lay on his back, smiling softly as he watched the smoke from their cigarettes rise up to the ceiling. “Now that was a whole different experience.”

Angel chuckled. “Having been present for both events I must agree.” He turned on his side, breathing smoke into Spike's hair. “I'd rather fuck you than that other guy any day.”

“Yeah?” Spike grinned. “No good, was he?”

“Well...” Angel reached over to snuff out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Technically he was fantastic.” He let his fingers crawl up Spike's chest. “All the right moves, not to mention those delicious sounds.”

Spike stiffened slightly. “Is that so?”

“Moaning, whimpering, begging... like music to my ears. But...” He grabbed Spike as he made to roll out of the bed, looking quite pissed off. “But emotionally there was nothing. There was no one there.” He kissed Spike's scowling mouth, hand tight on the back of his neck to keep him from going as he held his glare with a steady eye. “You weren't there, Spike.”

Spike growled but he settled down again, smoke blowing out his nostrils. “I'm not going to whimper for you, you wanker. Or beg.”

“Not even if I do...” Angel leaned over, flicking a perky nipple with his tongue. “... this?”

“Hey! That's... You're cheating!” Spike swallowed a gasp. “And I'm still not whimpering.”

He closed his eyes as Angel continued licking and sucking his nipples until they were hard and blushing red, lips set tight to make sure not a sound escaped. The hand sliding down his abdomen made him falter for a moment and when he raised what little remained of his cigarette to his lips his hand shook slightly even if his face held the same cool expression. Slowly he reached over and put the stub out in the ashtray before leaning back on the pillows, eyes closed once again. A tremble ran through his body when his cock was swallowed by the cool mouth, a sharp intake of breath breeched the air when his knees were pushed up and apart but it wasn't until Angel slowly slid home that he gave in to the whimper lodged in his throat.

Not that it really mattered since Angel couldn't hear him for his own moans.

----------------------------------

“I don't like this.”

Spike stood stiff, arms folded protectively on his chest, his eyes narrow and suspicious.

“Don't like people messing with my head, snooping around in my brain. What's with you Watchers anyway and your compulsive need to pry into other people's privacy?”

Wesley sighed and leaned against the desk, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. “Look, we've tried all else and this is the only thing I can think of that might tell us what's going on. And for what it's worth I have no particular interest in hearing what thoughts you keep in your head, Spike, however fascinating I'm sure they are.”

“I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Percy. What I keep in here...” He tapped his head angrily, “... is private. My thoughts, my feelings, my bloody memories. Not for just anyone to hear.”

“But...” Wes looked over at the wary man sitting behind a glass window in the other room.

“He can hypnotise me, all right. But you're not listening in, any of you. Put your questions on tape or feed the computer, I don't care. But only I get to hear my answers.”

“But if we can't hear your answers how do we know what to ask for?”

“That's your problem, not mine. You're not listening and that's final.”

“But surely Angel can-”

“No! Especially not him.” Spike turned to the window, watching the hypnotic who was looking more nervous by the minute. “I mean it, Wesley. There are things... He shouldn't know about them, all right? And I'm not saying this for my sake. I don't care how he sees me but-”

“Bollocks.”

Spike turned around, frowning at the annoyed expression on Wesley's face. “What?”

“Of course you bloody care. Christ, what is it with you two? For all the years you've got between you you're both acting like a couple of teenagers. For god's sake just tell him you love him and get it over with.”

“What?” Spike stared at him, a hint of colour dotting his cheeks. “What the bloody hell are you on about?”

Wesley rolled his eyes and started pacing the small room, hands emphasising his words with wild gestures. “Do you know what I would give to have just one more day with Winifred? Months, no years, I wasted because I was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt.”

He stopped and turned to Spike, eyes almost feverish. “You think you have forever but you're wrong.” The stake was out and pressing into Spike's chest before he could blink. “Just like that you're dead and it's too damn late to say anything. Anything! One moment he's there and the next he's dying in your arms, begging you to please, please don't let him die. And then she does anyway and all you have left is vaults of whatifs and whys and not a moment goes by that you don't blame yourself for not dying in her place.”

Spike stood still, the sharp point of the stake pressing hard enough into his chest that he could feel blood trickling down his skin. Just one quick movement and he'd easily have Wesley slumped against the wall, broken nose or neck. The stake trembled slightly, the tip pressing further into the wound but he only gazed calmly into the wild blue eyes until they finally blinked. Wes sucked in his breath, the stake fell to the floor with a clatter and he stepped back on shaky legs. Spike kept his eyes steadily on him as he reached down and picked up the stake, slipping it into his own pocket.

“You all right there, mate?”

“I...” Wesley swallowed and shook his head in bewilderment. “Spike...”

“What's going on here?”

Spike raised his hand to stop Angel from coming closer. “It's all right. The Watcher is just feeling a bit tired. Maybe you should lie down for a bit, eh?”

“No, no I... I need to work. We have to... Yes. I'll go make those questions now. You... Yes. I'll be right back.” Wesley turned and walked out of the room, a slight look of confusion on his face.

“What was that about?”

“Think maybe I'm not the only one losing my mind. You should get him some help before it's too late.”

Angel frowned. “Wesley? He'll be fine. He just needs some time to get over-”

“Losing the love of his life?”

That made him wince. “Well...”

“Get him help, Angel. Soon.” Spike turned and walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“You heard him. There's work to do.” Spike pulled a fresh packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “You coming?”

“All right.” Angel followed him, rolling his eyes as Spike lit up under the No Smoking sign. “Where to?”

“Well, according to the expert I should be 'calm and relaxed'.” Spike tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow. “So I was thinking JD and fags down at the pub and then you could fuck me in the alley. How does that sound?”

Angel smiled. “Too much fun to qualify as work.”

“Angel, luv, you obviously haven't been working in the right places.” Spike blew smoke into Angel's face and gave him a wicked smile. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was working at a club in Paris? Okay, maybe working is an overstatement but...”

Angel's growls echoed in the halls as they disappeared into the elevator.

----------------------------

“I don't like this.”

Angel's words echoed Spike's earlier as he stood up once again and paced the room before settling in front of the glass window, watching as Spike's body became slack and limp where he lay on the bed.

“This is what he wanted and we should respect that.”

“Still...”

“Would you want someone listening in on your most inner thoughts?”

Angel stiffened. “No.”

“Right then. We're supposed to count down from fifty before starting the recording. The first question will come in ten seconds and then there's a sound sensor that will control when the others will follow.”

They watched the hypnotic check Spike over before giving them a thumbs up and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Right.” Wesley clicked the timer in his hand while Angel counted silently in his head. As he reached fifty Wesley stood up and pressed some keys on the computer before turning towards the door. “Angel? Are you coming?”

He hesitated, eyes fixated on the slack body on the other side of the glass. “I think I should stay. Something might go wrong. And it's not like he will know...”

“I'll tell him.”

Angel turned and stared at him. “You wouldn't.”

“Of course I would. I promised him. Now are you coming or do I have to call security?”

They stood glaring at each other for a moment but then Angel sighed and followed Wesley out of the room. Just as he closed the door he heard a low soothing voice: 'I'm going to ask you a few questions now, Spike, if that's all right. How are you feeling?'

The answer was too low for him to hear.

----------------------------

Angel slammed the mug down on the table, making drops of blood spill over the edge. “He's been in there for two hours now. How many fucking questions did you ask him?”

“Not that many.” Wesley took out his handkerchief and absentmindedly wiped up the splatters. “Calm down. You saw for yourself that he was fine. He's probably just taking notes, trying to figure things out. He'll come out when he's ready.”

“I don't like this. I should be in there with him. Who knows what horrors he's reliving?”

“No one except him. That was the whole point, Angel. Now sit down and stop growling.”

“I'm not...” Angel growled but sat down anyway. “What if we don't get the answers we need? What if you didn't ask the right questions?”

“Then he'll tell us what's missing and we do it again.”

“But-”

“Shut up, Angel! Just sit still and shut up!” Wesley closed his eyes and shook his head. “Just please shut your mouth.”

“I'm still your boss.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

Wesley laughed, a hollow sound that made Angel wince. “Really? Well, if you don't like the way I do my job you can fire me. Again.”

They sat in silence for a moment but then Angel reached forward and lay a hand on Wesley's arm. “I'm sorry. For everything. Do you think...? Maybe you should talk to someone.”

Wesley stiffened and wrenched his arm away. “I'm fine. What is there to talk about anyway? She's gone. Talking will not bring her back.”

“No, but it might keep us from losing you as well.”

For a moment it looked as if Wes would break down but with a shudder he straightened up and looked right at Angel. “I'll be fine. Thank you for your concern but it's quite unnecessary. Now, if it helps I can let you see a list of the questions I asked him.”

Angel contemplated pressing Wes further but his curiosity got the better of him and he nodded and with obvious relief Wesley pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to him. He read them quickly over, the frown deepening as he got further down the list.

“Was that really necessary, asking him about us?”

“I thought so, yes. These weren't just designed to find out who did this to him but also what it's doing to him. Your relationship probably plays the biggest part in that.”

Angel looked up at him, eyes wary. “Are you saying that what we've been doing is a result of what is being done to him?”

“No.” Wes watched him calmly. “But you both seem to think so and I thought if you can't figure it out for yourself maybe his answers might help at least him seeing things for what they are.”

Angel looked away. “But what if you're wrong?”

“Then, after we have found a way to break him out of the thrall, you can try again and if nothing happens then it was just the hypnosis mixed with your unstable hormones and you can both stop behaving like lovesick puppies and get on with your lives.”

Angel stared at him. “You're mocking me.”

“Yes.”

That brought on a small smile. “Well, I'm glad to see some things haven't changed.”

Wes opened his mouth to answer but shut it again as Spike walked into the room, folded sheets of paper clutched in his hand. He was paler than usual and when he sat down and lit his cigarette his hands trembled slightly. He took the half-full mug of blood and drained the liquid down before placing it back on the table.

Angel reached for Spike's hand but he moved it away and Angel drew his own back, swallowing his feelings of rejection. “Well?”

“Well, that was a ball. Haven't had so much fun since Pavayne.”

“Did you find out anything useful?”

Angel glared at Wesley for his insensitivity but Spike seemed relieved at the direct question. He unfolded the paper sheets, careful not to let Angel see what was written on them.

“A bloke called White. David White. Seems to think I killed his daughter, Dinah, last year. Sixteen. Blond. Pretty. Daddy's little girl. All his enquiries led back to me. Could be right, I didn't really bother learning their names.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, autopsy report shows she was raped repeatedly both before and after she died. Guess he thought this might be the perfect punishment for me.” Spike sucked on his cigarette before continuing. “If my subconscious remembers correctly I was supposed to go insane and then hopefully kill myself.” He folded the sheets again, not looking at either of them. “That's about it.”

Angel sat perfectly still, watching him. Spike's face was blank but there were drops of sweat at his temple and his lower lip was twitching.

Wes nodded and stood up. “We'll find him. You should rest.”

Spike didn't answer and Wes quietly left him and Angel to sit in silence. After a while Angel cleared his throat.

“I don't suppose I need to tell you this but it wasn't your fault. That girl. You weren't in control off yourself.”

Spike shook his head. “What does it matter? It could as well have been because of a girl I killed before the chip, before the soul. Makes no difference.”

“Of course it does!”

“No, Angel. It doesn't. So I can't even remember killing her. Raping her.” He closed his eyes. “I can still remember countless of others. Are they worth less than her?”

“No, but-”

“That's all that matters.”

Angel growled in frustration. “So what? You're just going to give up? Because you deserve it?”

“I never said that. If he'd just killed me I wouldn't complain.” He chuckled softly, a sad hollow sound. “Well, obviously. You know what I mean. A life for a life, yeah? But this... Maybe I do deserve it. Maybe there's no maybe about that. But it's not honourable, you know? It's not... right. If he wants me to suffer he should do it himself, not let others do his dirty work for him. What if I'd gone bonkers and killed one of my 'clients'? He risked other's life just so he would be able to take out his revenge.”

Spike looked up, a yellow glint in his eyes. “And that's just not on. You don't do that. So I say we find him and make him take this away and if he still wants me dead he can bloody well fight me himself. Which, seeing as he's a scrawny little weasel with more brains than muscles, probably won't end well for him so I hope he sees enough sense to just sod the bloody hell off.”

Angel scowled. “I want to kill him.”

Spike smiled. “Yeah well, you can't. We don't kill humans, remember?”

He shook his head. “There are exceptions.”

Spike watched him for a moment then he lowered his eyes, staring down at the cigarette slowly smouldering between his fingers. “What would you do to the man who raped and murdered your son, Angel?”

There was silence for a long time.

“I murdered him.”

Spike's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What?”

“Connor. My son. I killed him. It was part of the deal of coming here.” Angel kept his voice steady but he could feel sweat running down his back. “He died and so got a new life, without memories of anything that had happened before, and in return I took over Wolfram and Hart.”

Spike was silent for a moment. “Those must have been some nasty memories to make you do that.”

“Yes.”

“And he's happy now?”

Angel swallowed. “That boy that came here the other day? That was him.”

Spike nodded slowly, a look of sudden understanding in his eyes. “Seemed happy enough.”

He sucked in his breath. “Yes. I think so.”

“Then I guess it was worth it.”

Angel stared at him for a second and then breathed out, his whole body seeming to relax in relief. “I guess it was.”

They both smiled as if an invisible hurdle had been tackled and overcome.

“You look tired. You should get some rest.”

“Maybe. I feel a whole century older. Well, at least a few decades.”

“Do you want to talk about...?”

Spike shook his head. “Not now. Maybe later.” He looked up. “Except, I want you to know... if I go... odd again, it's okay. With you, I mean. I don't mind.” He dropped his eyes, tapping the last ashes off his cigarette on the table then drawing patterns with the dead end into the grey dust.

Angel sat still. His thoughts flickered from memories of yesterday's pliant Spike moaning underneath him to that morning's bossy Spike, impatiently pushing him back on the bed and tugging at his belt as he kissed his mouth with desperate passion. “I do.”

Spike raised his head, his face drawn and tired. “Angel, I heard what you told Wes. I was begging you, crying with pain because you didn't want to touch me. I practically forced you. So next time, just do it. It's okay. I don't want you to feel guilty about giving in.”

“Want me to...” Angel shook his head in frustration. “It's not about me, Spike. You were right, for once this isn't about me at all. So don't tell me it's okay, it's far from okay. You were nothing like yourself. You were like a slave, wanting only to please me, ready to follow whatever order I gave. That is not the Spike I want.”

Spike held his gaze. “But you loved it.”

“No! Well, yes, but...” He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the same shame from the night before wash over him. “Yes, I did. It made me feel more powerful than I've felt in a long time and... to tell the truth that was a rather frightening feeling. To realise I still had that in me, the desire to own someone, body and soul, with no regards to their feelings, their well-being.”

He opened his eyes when his hand was squeezed reassuringly by slender fingers. “Angel, even if I were a mindless beast, shackled and licking your feet, you'd still care. Christ, I've had all kinds of things shouted at me during climax but I think you're the first one to sob out a plead for forgiveness while shooting your load. Not exactly Master behaviour.”

Angel stared at him, the half-grin on Spike's face shocking him almost more than the words. “I did that?”

“You don't remember?”

“After, yes. During, no.” A smile started tugging at his lips. “Guess finally getting some decent sex blew my mind out for a second or two.”

“I guess so.” Spike tilted his head and pursed his lips. “Eve was no good then?”

“Are you kidding me? That was over so quick it was hardly worth taking my clothes off. Plus, once the spell wore off I did my best to forget that ever happened.” He shuddered. “See, you're not the only one that's been violated against their will since coming here.”

Spike grinned. “You didn't look very traumatized, luv.”

Angel gave him a stern look. “Do you know how long it had been since I had sex? Almost two years! My soul may be scarred but my cock was doing the damn conga.”

“Two years!” Spike shook his head in amusement. “I'm beginning to think I should take pay after all. Saving Wolfram & Hart from having to pick up the pieces of their CEO's blown up balls in the near time future. It's an exhausting job, satisfying hundred years of built up sexual tension.” He yawned. “No wonder I'm so bloody tired.”

Angel pulled him in for a quick kiss before standing up. “Let's get upstairs then. I feel rather tired myself.”

Spike quirked his eyebrow at him. “Is that right?”

“Oh yes. I definitely need to lie down.”

“Sleeping during the day now?” Spike chuckled. “Maybe you are a real vampire after all.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

Continued here

fic 2006, blackout, fic, btvs/ats fic, spring_spangel, pairing: spike/angel

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