Title: A Meeting Of Immortals: Part Two

Date Posted:

Author: Buffywatcher

Feedback: Constructive comments always welcome: deepkori@hotmail.com

Pairing: Primarily Angel(us)/Spike, Other pairings (I’m not giving away the plot lol)

Rating: R Possibly a bit of romantic NC-17’ish circumstances.

Spoilers: None this story takes place in AU in Crossover mode with Highlander the series.

Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained by their owner and accredited license holders.

Writer’s Notes: This story takes place post-Buffy finale and in the current season of Angel with one exception, Spike and Anya were not killed. Sunnydale has been rebuilt and most of the Scooby Gang still makes that their home. Spike has moved to LA and is currently under contract to Wolfram & Hart as a Special Consultant (Okay fancy name for a mercenary Demon hunter). Some prior knowledge of Highlander will likely make this story much easier to read. For those that have never seen the show just email me and I’ll send you some background bios on the characters along with some pictures J. This story will mention the death of a Highlander character. As always thanks are going out to GF my most excellent Beta/Editor.

Distribution: If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit J.

Summary: Closely guarded secrets from the past have a way of returning to the present.

 

*

 

Angel takes a step forward; ignoring the press of steel against his throat; as Methos brandishes his sword once more. He takes another step; ignoring the light twisting of the sword against his throat; Methos’ silent command to halt. Knowing Angel better than almost anyone; Spike takes a deep but unnecessary breath and steels his courage; as he detaches himself from Duncan’s side and places a hand on Methos’ arm lowering the sword. Angel presses closer ignoring the razor tip of the sword and the trickle of crimson that testifies to that same sharpness. He locks his eyes onto Spike and is starting to take another step forward when his Grand-Childe snaps into motion.

 

Spike tenderly uses his arm to leverage Methos gently away from Angel as he steps up to press his hand to his cheek as he makes a soft half whine, half growl sound deep in his throat. He’s gratified to see that Angel has stopped advancing as he rubs against the hand on his cheek answering the soft sounds he’s making with his own. Angel starts to speak but he lifts his fingertips against his lips, stilling the words before they’re given form. They don’t need the words right now. Things always manage to go to hell when they try to talk to each other. He turns to look over his shoulder and smiles to see that Duncan and Methos are sitting down on the bench; with no signs of their swords in sight and holding hands.

 

Angel follows Spike’s gaze and his eyes narrow. He has a thousands questions but he’s not really sure he really wants to hear the answers to them. He finds the strength to only give form to the only question he can’t live without knowing. “How?” His voice is gruff and slightly muffled as his lips move against Spike’s fingers as they rest on his lips.

 

Spike motions for Angel to sit down, gently pushing him down onto the bench beside Duncan. He steels himself to reveal a tale he could cheerfully have lived a million years without reliving, but Angel has a right to ask and maybe, just maybe he has a need to tell. “It’s not a pretty story Angel and before I begin it I have to say this. You did what you felt was best when you left us after you were cursed with your soul, hold on to that belief.” The “You’re going to need it” part of that sentence goes unuttered but the intent is there all the same and Angel nods.

 

Spike kneels in front of Angel and after a brief hesitation he puts a gentle hand on his knee and begins his nightmarish tale.

 

“After you left us things were bad, Angel. Darla destroyed everything you’d ever touched, any and every memory of you that she could. I’m sorry Angel she burned most of your drawings and your journals before I realised what she was doing.” Angel closes his eyes on a wince of pain. “I did manage to save a couple; I’ve been hiding them for…a long time now.” He almost smiles as Angel’s eyes fly open in shock and lock into his own gaze. “Angelus may have been a right nasty bastard, Pet but for almost twenty years he was MY right nasty bastard. It was a way to keep part of you and well honestly it was a way to defy Darla at the same time and you KNOW how much pleasure I took in that.” He sees Angel almost smile at that. “I never fully realised just how much Angelus had protected Dru and me from her Royal Bintness until that protection was gone. I tried to take Dru and follow you but Darla found out…” The memory of the pain is still so fresh in his mind but he pushes the numbing fear away and forces himself to go on. “I’m still not sure why she reacted the way that she did, she never really cared much for Dru or myself but I guess the idea that we would prefer to live with our “crippled” Sire as she called you just made her go right past the bend it did.” He smoothes his hand over Angel’s knee comfortingly. He can feel his muscles tensing beneath his sensitive hand. “I did the only thing I could do to protect Dru. I did my level best to keep Darla’s fury centred on me and for the most part I succeeded in that. I’m not sure what exactly happened to me for the three weeks following that, I was slipping in and out of consciousness. It must have been bad though I don’t remember it as much more than pain, totally immersive pain. Just existing was pain and Dru must have agreed I imagine. She snuck in to see me at some point and cried over the fact she couldn’t bring herself to stake me but she wished that she could to set me free.”

 

Angel cries out at that and closing his hands over Spike’s shoulders pulls him into a tight hug. Not even in his darkest most vile tempers had he even come close to hurting Spike to the point that Dru would ever have considered staking him to end his pain. He can only imagine what must have been done to her beloved Childe, that Dru would have considered killing him to end his suffering. He wants to scream at Spike to stop, to just not tell him any more as his voice once more breaks through his haze of self-recriminations. He forces himself to just shut up and listen because soul or no soul he had made the conscious choice to leave Dru and Spike to their fates and he deserves to hear everything.

 

Spike hugs Angel and then sits back on his heels, bracing his hands on his knees once more, knowing that meagre though it may be, the tender touches ease the pain somewhat. “I made Dru swear to me that she would do whatever Darla asked of her. Told her that I could survive anything as long as I knew she was safe, that I needed to know I hadn’t failed Angelus in yet another regard. What, you look surprised? Yes I felt I had failed you, proved myself in some way inferior or damaged and that is why you left us behind. You know don’t you…soul or no soul, that we would have gone with you.” It’s not a question. “But it wasn’t Dru and I that was the problem right? You had a soul, you recognised us for what we were and maybe even still are. We’re tangible proof that you are a vampire. We’re walking, talking, and bad memories from a time in your existence that you’d rather have never lived. Still we tried to follow…you were our Sire and we knew where we belonged.”

 

Angel cups Spike’s cheek, unshed tears glistening in his eyes as he admits to himself that what he said was true. It was never his fear that they wouldn’t accept him with a soul but rather his own inability to accept them as Demons in return.

 

Spike goes on. “One day Darla had me freed, washed, fed, and rested…I thought the ordeal was over. That somehow she had exorcised whatever need for blood that she had. I was wrong; you see…I had forgotten that there were two more things that Angelus had loved.” Spike feels a tear rip its way from his eye as Angel starts chanting the word no over and over again in a litany or remorse. “Darla let me recover partially for only one reason. She wanted me to be aware of each and every second of what she had planned for me…” Spike’s voice trails off as Angel gathers him up into another bear hug.

 

“Darla took Dru away, said I would never see her again, know whether she was alive or dead, when she left me in the Church yard to burn with the dawn.” He’s grateful to hear Duncan’s voice taking up the chore of relating the events.

 

“My…mate, Amanda, and I, were at a small pub on the coast of Wales when a strange woman ran in. She looked confused, almost frantic as she looked around but then she saw us and to this day I will swear that she recognised us somehow at a glance. She started pulling at our arms, telling us that someone was hurting her child in the old church yard and that we had to help. Then she ran off. At first we thought she was just some poor addled woman with mental problems but it wore on us after a while. We kept making excuses. She had to have been crazy, otherwise why didn’t she tell everyone? Why pick us out specifically. Finally we had no choice we had to go look. I would have given anything to have gone when she tried to get us to help.” Duncan silently telegraphs one more of the thousands of apologetic to Spike that he has offered through the years. As in every time before a smile and a nod silently telegraph his understanding and love right back to him and strengthened he continues. “What we’d found…it was horrible. I’ve never in my life seen anything to equal the sheer savagery.”

 

“What…what did you see?” Angel asks reluctantly but as much as he doesn’t want to ask that question is how much he knows he needs to find the answer.

 

“Me.” Spike says quietly. “They found me.”

 

“They…they’d crucified him to a cross in the church yard with railroad spikes. There wasn’t a millimetre of skin that wasn’t bloody, bruised, scarred, or that didn’t show terrible whip marks. He’d…they’d eviscerated him…we thought he was dead. Forgive my Cub but it might have been better if he had been.” Duncan chokes off the story as Angel lurches off the bench, falling to his knees with a cry of pain that could never be drawn from a human throat.

 

Angel roars his pain into the night and all over Sunnydale, Humans and Demons alike share a shudder of pure terror at what lurks in the night. To most ears the sound dies abruptly as Spike falls to his knees and pulls Angel into his arms and holds him tightly; making low sounds of comfort that only he can hear that instinctively soothe his demon half back into quiescence. Only Demons could hear that the cries of pain haven’t faded, they have only deepened so low that to human ears they are silent.

 

Spike lets Angel pull him to sit on his lap and he wraps his arms and legs around his shaking Grandsire, purring a litany of comfort into his body. He nods to Duncan to continue and lets his head fall forward to rest against Angel’s shoulder.

 

“We…thought he was dead until he opened his eyes as we were prying the spikes out to get him off of the cross. He’d been beaten so badly that his eyes…they weren’t white. They were blood red, with small oceans of blue swallowed up in them. He didn’t even have the strength left to scream when we had to peel him off the cross and what skin was left on his back peeled off with it. No human could have lived through all they had done. Amanda and I figured out what he must be…we knew no ordinary doctor would be able to do anything for him. So we sought out the oldest person we knew.” Duncan says brokenly.

 

To his relief Methos picks up the sad tale. “It took them a month to find me and when they did, bringing along this wreck of a human body I could have sworn I was looking at a corpse. I’d heard of Vampires of course but I had never chanced to knowingly meet one. I had no idea how to even begin to help. We did what we could with what we knew how to do. Physically we put his body back together with a kilometre of silk thread, a mile of bandages and a lot of prayers. None of us knew how he was evil surviving at all, any ONE of his injuries would have killed an ordinary human. We tried to feed him but he was too weak to feed and we were too ignorant to know how to feed him safely. So we did the only thing we could think of to do.” Methos says trailing off as Angel lifts his head from Spike’s chest and he’s struck to his core by the pain and sorrow he sees reflected there. “We hoped he would have the instincts to feed if we could only stimulate that somehow…we cut ourselves and forced his mouth to the cuts and we…” Methos takes a deep, shaky breath. “We hit him until he was enraged and attacked us out of habit and instinct. Each of us took turns once a day.”

 

“They’re immortals Angel.” Spike says quietly and Angel’s eyes widen in awe. “They are as ageless as we but they are not Demons. I do not think that even they know why they are what they are.”

 

“I have heard of such people as them before.” Angel says roughly, his voice is hoarse and a little gruff.

 

“They…took their lives in their hands, quite literally, to nurse me back to health. I think I killed them more times than I can remember.” Spike looks saddened by that and Angel tightens his hold.

 

“A boon of our natures, we can die as easily as other men but as long as we keep our heads…we never stay that way.” Duncan says sharing a glance of wry humour with Methos. “Our blood is somewhat different than a normal human’s as well it seems as the Cub healed much more quickly than any of us could have imagined.”

 

“Yes, their blood is stronger than even the Slayers and an even headier experience when combined with the hunting instinct as we feel the prey giving up its life to us.” Spike says slightly embarrassed.

 

Angel realises what must have happened at that point. “The feeding, lead to…other things?” He almost smiles at the blushes that fleetingly cross the faces of Duncan and Methos.

 

“Yes, I began to treat them all as Vampires and…” Spike says haltingly.

 

“You instinctively drew blood and put their mouths to it and they tasted you as you were drinking from them.” Angel says softly, stroking the back of Spike’s neck. He almost smiles as Spike just ducks his head to rest against his shoulder and nods, like a little boy admitting to something embarrassing. “So how did you get from a blood bond to a mating?” Spike mumbles something that not even his keen Vampire hearing can make out. “What was that?” He mumbles again. “Speak up lad; I’m not fluent in mumbles.”

 

“I SAID; they liked my poetry alright!” Spike groans and buries his head back down against Angel’s shoulders realising he’s just shouted that for the whole park to hear.

 

For a second there is silence so deep you couldn’t see the bottom of it and then Angel, Duncan, and Methos are roaring but this time with laughter, as Spike rears his head up to glare murderously at them all. He determinedly goes on with the story.

 

“They taught me. All three of them taught me so much.” Spike says softly, looking at Duncan and Methos with an expression that manages to combine affection, respect, and love.

 

“I taught him the mental disciplines learned over centuries, to find and listen to his inner voices. Amanda taught him about Love and loyalty. And oh how to be a spectacular thief. Duncan says proudly with a large smile at the thought of his former cat burglar bride.

 

“He was one of my finest students in the battle arts and I have seen a multitude in my years.” Methos says quietly. “Perhaps my most important lesson however was in the true nature of Evil.” Angel stares at Methos in shock. “I am going to trust you, Vampire with a secret that could destroy me in the wrong hands. My name isn’t truly Adam Pierson. My name is Methos. I am the oldest of the Immortals. They called you the Scourge of Europe once, they called me Death as I laid waste to the world with the Four Horsemen and I know more of Evil than you and your Demon have ever dreamed. Do you know the truth of true Evil, Angelus?” Methos asks. “The truth about Evil is that there is no one truth. A Demon need not be Evil as I am sure you have come to realise.”

 

“They showed me how to make peace between my Demon and my humanity. That was probably the reason why the Judge didn’t much care for my “lousy humanity” perhaps. It did take me about forty years to learn though.” Spike shares a laugh with Duncan and Methos.

 

“Forty years?” Angel asks confused.

 

“That’s how long I lived with my Mates.” Spike says fondly. “Darla showed up one day with Dru and basically threw her at me and told me to take care of her and that was the last I saw of her. I can only assume she’d found out I was still alive and was weary of taking care of a fanatical Vampiress. For a time we tried to remain with my Mates but Dru only saw them as food and as rivals for my affections. Eventually I had no choice but to take her and go when she proved too dangerous and volatile. We were together from then on and eventually we found our way to Sunnydale.”

 

“No wonder you hated me.” Angel says flatly, slumping like a puppet with its strings cut but Spike is there to catch him and holds on tightly.

 

“You’ve misunderstood me…I’ve never truly hated you. If I had…do you truly have thought that I wouldn’t have kept coming and coming until you were dead once and for all? I no more hate you than you hate me, if you’ll only admit that. If we truly wanted our dance to end we’re both more than capable of it. I killed TWO Slayers protecting Dru. Together we laid waste to more lives than I can even REMEMBER. Angelus was and IS one of the deadliest forces on the planet and yet we always manage to leave each other alive? We can’t kill one simple girl and a pack of humans? The simple truth of it Angel is we didn’t really try THAT hard to do it. Part of us always held back, knew that something was different about that girl and her pack of humans; maybe that WE were different this time. Then Angelus was free and insane from being isolated so long and just had to get the mad idea to suck the planet into Hell. Do you think the Slayer would have been able to beat you without my help? We didn’t want to kill each other. I never hated you Angel…I’m just not real sure how to live with you. There was a time when I knew how you fit in my life. My place was clearly defined, I had limits and boundaries. I was, I am, William the Bloody, right hand Vamp with an attitude to Angelus the meanest son of a bitchin’ Vampire EVER. Now I am Spike, working for Angel and not knowing where I stand in regards to where I was and where I am, and where I some day hope to be. You are not Angelus, Angel. Make no mistake however that Angelus isn’t part of you, just like William is a part of me.” Spike says earnestly.

 

Angel considers that for a moment, wondering if it’s really true as Spike stands and gives him a hand up. He takes a deep breath as Spike holds his hand out and helps him to his feet. He knows what he must do, though part of him is howling in rage inside to have to do it. “I, Angel, Master of the Aurelius Order, do recognise Duncan MacLeod, Mate of William and Me…” Angel sees Methos and Duncan shaking their heads. “…Adam Pierson…” From grateful looks on both men’s faces that is what they were trying to get him to say. “…Mate of William. I acknowledge Amanda…” He shoots a silent question at the others.

 

“MacLeod. We’re all MacLeods. We chose to adopt Duncan’s clan name as our own.” Spike says quietly, proud that Angel is formally reciting the traditional acknowledgement for an Aurelius Mate.

 

“…MacLeod, Mate of William in absentia.” Angel says quietly, forcing himself not to choke on the words. He knows that Spike spoke the truth about Angelus being a part of him, for the part that is him is screaming a silent cry of rage deep inside him. Spike smiles and leaps at Angel to give him a hug before turning to Duncan and Methos.

 

“Where is Amanda anyway? You two never get very far without her these days.” Spike asks smiling happily. The smile quickly fades as he sees the faces of his Mates fall still and cold.

 

Duncan slowly turns back to the bench and opens the slim case and pulls out a finely crafted sword, balancing it across his palms, tears leaking from his shattered eyes. “William…” Duncan’s words are drowned out by the second scream of rage and pain to tear through the night, as he slowly extends Amanda’s sword to the younger Vampire.

 

Angel realising that something tragic must have happened throws himself down and pulls Spike against his chest; tightening his arms in a hug that would likely have crushed a human’s ribcage.

 

Spike lets his tears fall as Duncan and Methos wrap an arm around each other and sink to their knees a foot away, crying their own tears. “Who…who took her head?” He chokes out finally.

 

“It wasn’t an Immortal, Cub.” Duncan says shakily. “She was murdered.”

 

Angel tightens his arms as Spike screams his pain out into the air, roaring his agony to the fates that took one of his eternal Mates from him. He holds his weeping Childe for several moments, supporting him as his own muscles have given out.

 

Gradually his tears stop flowing and Spike knows what he has to do; his mind calling up an ancient ritual he had hoped to never have any use for. He closes his hands over the blade of the sword, slowly feeling it part the skin and sink into his fingers and palms, until his blood begins to trickle down the blade. “The call to vengeance I do answer. I will have blood for blood spilled in innocence. I will have blood for tears shed in pain without purpose. I will have blood for blood taken and hearts broken.” Spike growls, his voice thick with grief. He feels Angel move and he’s shocked to see his hands closing over the blade as well.

 

“The call to vengeance I do answer. I will have blood for blood spilled in innocence. I will have blood for tears shed in pain without purpose. I will have blood for blood taken and hearts broken. I will have blood for blood Aurelius blood spilled.” Angel intones with all the weight of the solemn occasion giving his words meaning. He can feel Spike’s astonished stare and can feel the weight of Duncan and Methos’ amazement. “She was a Mate of an Aurelius Master; she was loved by my Childe. If vengeance is to be sought than it is my duty as head of the Order and Spike’s Sire.” Angel says gravely.

 

“You’re going to want to think that over before you commit yourself, Angel. We’re not going to be tracking down the person responsible for this travesty and bring them to justice. Whomever has done this is going to die Angel, by our hands. I will kill until no man stands that has her blood on his hands.” Spike turns to meet Angel’s eyes and they are frozen shards that promises those deaths with be as long and drawn out as possible. “You’re not Angelus, Angel. You are not a grieving Mate with the weight of forty years of loving the most maddening woman on the planet, to lend your actions merit.”

 

“I understand what you’re doing Spike and what you’re trying to say. There must be a reason I am here, that I had to follow you. This isn’t about Human Justice, this is about blood. I have spent so long trying to live as a man that I have forgotten what it is to be a Vampire. I’m not a man fighting for the Powers That Be, I’m a Vampire fighting their war; maybe this is meant to remind me of that.” Angel says broodingly.

 

“And perhaps you just bloody think too much, Peaches. I’m not going to mess with the redemption of a Hero so you can come along but you leave the nasty stuff to me. I’m born for mayhem and bred for violence…remember?” Spike says smirking at a recovered memory from long ago.

 

“As I recall Spike I also said you were built for fu…” Angel glances at Duncan and Methos. “ Umm…loving.” Angel says with a wicked chuckle, dragging his tongue slowly over the side of his neck and over his ear; as he too recalls those words spoken to a newly risen childe long ago. “I was of course absolutely right as usual.” Angel says feigning arrogance.

 

After a few seconds the tension breaks and the warm flutter of laughter replaces tears in the dark night that has witnessed too much pain for one evening.

 

With a few minutes to compose themselves, Spike suggests adjourning to more pleasant surroundings before Methos and Duncan tell them what they know about Amanda’s murder. Spike licks the blood off the sword to the not so quiet groans of Angel’s discomfort and then tenderly slips it into its case. Angel suggests gruffly that perhaps Giles’ shop would be a good place to talk but Spike just grins and tells everyone to follow him and leads the small group out of the park.

 

Spike looks down at the case balanced across his arms and fights back another tear of mourning. Amanda was equal parts Mother, Sister, and Lover and much of his uncommonly strong human traits can be laid at her feet. He has had few role models in his life and fewer still could he honestly say he admires. She was the most alive person he had ever met, living every day of her more than one thousands years as if it would be her last. He will not mourn her life, he will celebrate it and avenge her pointless death to his own final death comes. He navigates the streets easily and he knows the exact moment when Angel realises where they’re going by the pained groan he lets out and he chuckles at the look of horror on his Sire’s face. “Hey is it alright if we lock up our…” he jiggles the sword case. “…In the Viper? Most clubs frown on bringing in swords.”

 

“I am not going in there again Spike you can just find some other bar…” Angel growls as he unlocks the Viper and Spike, Methos, and Duncan carefully laid their weapons inside. “I can see why they call the damn place The Meat Market, I sure as hell felt like a side of beef!” He snarls.

 

Judging from how hard he slams the door of his precious Viper he’s pretty vehement about it, Spike thinks but being who he is, he can’t really back down from the challenge. He stalks up to Angel and cupping his face pulls the startled man into a brief but passionate kiss before he turns on his heel, Duster flaring out behind him. “Learn to live a lil, Grandda. We’re UNdead remember?” He laughs as he strides towards the Club door.

 

A laughing Methos grabs Duncan by the coat and pulls him towards the door, laughing when he grabs onto Angel and both men start shaking their heads and arguing. The club door opens and Spike’s head peeks out. “I swear I am going to shag the first bloody person I see in here if you ponces don’t move ya collective arse in here!” They see him jump a foot and turn and snarl at someone inside the bar. “OI YA BLOODY SHEEP SHAGGER KEEP YA HANDS OFF ME PACKAGE YA DAMN IMPATIENT BUGGER! OI, I SAID HANDS OFF!” Then he pulls his head back in and seconds later the door slams open as a body hurtles out into the street and into the gutter. The three men stare at the obviously drunk man wearing only a pair of high heels and a pair of daisy duke shorts. Methos laughs and rushes the door determined to get in on the fun. Angel and Duncan share a look of long suffering resignation and start to follow their extroverted companions into the bar.

 

“Damn good thing I run a law firm, we’re going to get arrested for sure with those two on the loose.” Angel mutters.

 

“Aye but be glad they don’t hang people anymore. You don’t know how many times I’ve died on account of those two.” Duncan says commiserating with Angel’s plight. “I have to admit though; Eternity with those two will never be boring.” He says with a wink.

 

Both men share a long look, then start grinning and throw open the door and stride in like they own the place.

 

After all they must bow down to one of the immutable natural laws.

 

If you can’t beat them then join them.

 

 

TBC

 

In part 3: Fun in the bar! Angel and Duncan learn a few things about their companions that proves the old adage that there’s always something left to learn. The search for Amanda’s killer begins and none of their lives will ever be the same.