Chapter 3
Pain
“I finally managed to contact
“Why? Where was she?”
“Physically?
“The girl went surfing the
astral plane again? Definitely need some sorta leash on her.”
“Maybe an emergency messaging
system? I’m sure there’s away. We’ll talk it over when she arrives.” Fred
replied.
There was a noise at the door
and Wesley got up.
“A note from Spike. He can’t
make it tonight.” He called through.
“That’s too bad. The vamp needs
some down time. Wonder what’s come up.”
Gunn returned a couple of
bottles of wine to the rack - Spike’s quota for the evening wouldn’t be needed.
“Uh, you guys? Don’t y’all feel
it’s a bit weird? Spike sending us a note, I mean.”
“Not at all. He’s not as
irresponsible as Angel used to claim. It’s quite in character that he would let
us know, especially considering our current situation of high alert.”
“A note though? Don’t either of
you think that it’s a bit old-fashioned…?” She wrinkled her nose to emphasise
her doubt.
“Vampires can be amazingly
outdated. Angel couldn’t even…”
“Wes, the girl’s right, he’s
nothing like Angel.”
Wesley looked at them
thoughtfully.
“He’s not, is he? You know, he
slipped into Angel’s place so easily that I sometimes forget. I mean, of course
I realise he’s Spike, the outrageous sense of humour and his neon hair, but his
role… I guess I’ve made him into a substitute Angel. Do you think he realised?”
No one answered. How could he
not have noticed?
“Never mind that,” Fred’s voice
held a touch of uncharacteristic impatience, “my point is that Spike can use a
cell phone and email, why would he send a note?”
“You’re right, he wouldn’t.”
Fred began twisting her hands
together as she followed through to a logical conclusion.
“But Angelus would. As you were
saying, it’s the sort of thing we expect from Angel. He still has one foot
planted in the 18th century.”
“Whereas Spike belongs in this
century, he’s at home in the modern world.”
“He would call, text, email - it
wouldn’t even enter his head to send someone here with a note.”
“Hell and damnation! The
tracking device. We have to find out where he is.”
oooo
Angelus left his minions to
continue their surveillance and dumped the unconscious vampire into the front
seat of the car. His priority was to get out of the immediate vicinity. There
were too many prying eyes on the streets of
They had learnt a lot at Wolfram
and Hart, including tracking and surveillance techniques. He was sure these
skills would have been put to good use and had come prepared. He ran an
electronic wand across Spike’s body and it buzzed almost immediately. A quick
investigation discovered something in the hem of the leather duster.
Predictable really. The coat was Spike’s second skin, where else would it be?
Sometimes it troubled him how stupid other people could be, but not very much and
not for very long. He extracted it and put it on the dashboard, doing one more
sweep with the wand but discovering no others.
It was an eight hour drive to
The plan was well underway but
the most difficult part still lay ahead. Breaking Spike to his will. He wasn’t
at all sure it was possible, but that had never put him off attempting things
before.
oooo
“I’m going to have to go there
and see for myself. Have you managed to track it yet?”
“I believe Wesley and Fred have
made some progress.” Giles replied, nodding to them to continue.
“We’ve been working on it and
believe we have the co-ordinates for the next dimension it will have struck.”
Wesley looked and sounded tired.
He took of his glasses and began polishing them.
“Is there any news of Angelus or
Spike yet?” She asked.
“No. The tracer worked at first.
They were heading north but then we suddenly lost the signal at
“
“That’s true. But the signal
ended at the airport not within the city itself. My assumption is that Angelus
finally had time to search Spike and found the tracer. Maybe they are in
He didn’t utter his other fear
that maybe Spike had already been disposed of. It was unlikely given the way
Angelus worked, but still a real possibility.
“So what did he do? Destroy the
tracer.”
“Nooo.” Wesley said slowly and
shared a look with Fred. “We’ll know when and where it becomes
non-operational.”
“Well, it’s a bit of a gamble.
We have a theory based on Angelus’ previous M.O.” Fred explained.
“He indulges in physical torture
but his chief technique depends upon psychological methods. He wouldn’t be able
to resist the opportunity of using the tracking device against Spike. Some
grand gesture as he destroyed it.”
“We’re sort of depending on it
being used in this way. As soon as it’s destroyed it activates the equivalent
of a magical distress flare, guaranteed to momentarily punch through any
shielding magicks. It will most likely occur in his lair and we’ll be able to
exactly pinpoint his location.”
“So you’re depending on Angelus
to torture Spike with its loss? Does Spike know about this plan?”
“I thought it best if he didn’t
know.” Wesley replied.
“It makes sense.”
“The more natural Spike’s
reaction, the more chance we’ll have of finding them.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I
understand where you’re coming from. It just seems a little…” She trailed off
and shook her head.
Giles supported his fellow
Englishman.
“Undoubtedly, it was the right
thing to do.”
Wesley felt uneasy having one of
his more questionable decisions under the microscope. Fred noticed and reached
out, stroking Wesley’s arm comfortingly.
“Someone has to make the hard
decisions and Wes is stronger than the rest of us.”
“I’m sorry. I do understand.”
oooo
Angelus was the master of
breaking people, his artistry knew no bounds. Yet his entire existence he had
never succeeded in breaking this indomitable spirit.
“Ah, William, what am I to do
with you?”
The eyelids fluttered opened. It
was painful for Spike to see that beloved face with dark malignance shining
from familiar eyes.
“What the hell do you want from
me, Poof?”
“Politeness. Old world
courtesy.” Angelus suggested.
Spike snorted his disdain.
Already the chains were biting cruelly into his wrists and he knew this was
going to happen no matter what he said.
“Always defiant, always
challenging. I blame myself, spoiling you with my affable nature and leniency.”
“Chrissakes. Stake me now.”
“Perhaps later…if you beg
prettily enough.”
“In your dreams.”
“Constantly, William.
Constantly.” Angelus replied with his trademark giggle.
Spike eyed him warily. He knew
there was little purpose in attempting to negotiate or talk his way out, but if
it delayed the inevitable a little longer...
“You don’t have to do this. Just
tell me what you want.”
“I want you, back at my side,
the way it used to be. I miss you, boy.”
He reached out and cupped the
sharp face in his hands, until Spike shook him off.
“Okay. Perhaps it does have to
be this way, after all. It’s never gonna be like that again, the things you do,
the things we did, disgust me.”
“Yes, your pesky soul. Yet it’s
what I want and what I’ll have again.”
He considered the implements at
his disposal and chose a tool. It was called pain.
oooo
The two groups began to meet more
regularly, attempting to co-ordinate their efforts and ensure the Council and
the Agency worked together.
“How are the slayers doing
without Spike?”
Giles looked slightly troubled.
“They carry on pretty much as
normal, practicing during the day and hunting at night.”
“Hunting?” Wesley immediately
picked up on the word. “You mean patrolling?”
“Patrol has only ever been a
euphemism for the hunt. Spike calls it hunting so they do as well. He honed
them and now they’re trying to keep their edge. The stronger and faster the
demon they chase, the better.”
“They’re growing reckless?”
“No, they’re too good for that.
You’ll have to watch them fight - I’ve never seen anything like it. If we don’t
find the vampires soon they’ll take matters into their own hands.”
“In what way?”
“Without wanting to sound
melodramatic, I think they’re ready to rip the world apart to find them.”
“Sounded pretty melodramatic to
me.”
“Maybe we should let them?” Gunn
suggested.
Giles shuddered.
“We couldn’t turn that sort of
power loose, not without a firm hand on the reins. We are involving the
slayers. We’ve sent out word across the world that they need to search the
cities, question vampires before staking them and if they discover anything
then they’re to report back to us, but we know they have their own informal
information network and it’s Spike own cadre that are at the centre of it.”
“That sounds sinister.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to
sound that way. These girls are the same age and went through the bonding
experience of battle. They made friends and now they keep in touch, so word
gets around, ideas get discussed.”
“Subsume them.” Wesley replied.
“Offer the leaders of Spike’s group a place on the Council. That way you’ll get
to know the feelings at grass roots level and have an opportunity to discuss
any ideas they might have.”
“Absolutely.”
“You know, that just might be
the answer.”
“Anything that helps us find our
vampires, has gotta be good. They can’t remain hidden forever.”
“But what will Angelus do whilst
we search? That’s the question.”
Giles’ observation silenced them
all. How could the vampire top the destruction of a world? And would Spike
survive it?
Wesley cleared his throat to
subtly bring them back to
“Did you want to open a portal
now?” Wesley asked.
“Okey dokey. Ummm. I’m sorry,
but I’ll need some extra juice…”
“Some slayers have volunteered.
I’ll gather them.”
“So how is Buffy?” Giles finally
asked the question that had been playing on his mind.
“Giles, if I have to stay away
for a while in one of these other dimensions, go to her. She’s going to need
someone.”
“
“Nothings wrong. It’s just
that…oh goddess! You remember that we found Spike when he became human? Buffy
decided she wanted to do something for him. Give him a permanent connection to
this world, even after we’re long gone. I agreed to help her with certain
aspects of it. The repercussions are going to hit us pretty soon.”
Giles put a hand to his temples.
“What have you done, Willow?”
“Nothing bad or icky. Just trust
me and promise you’ll go to her.”
Giles could do nothing but
agree. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” She gave him an
affectionate hug.
Wesley returned with the
grim-faced slayers. The few that were to give
“I’m sorry about this. You’d
better sit down as it will probably make you feel a bit skewy.”
They did as
“Via temporis, iam clamo ad te,
via spatii te jubeo aperire. Aperi!”
“All you have to do is maintain
it. Give me five minutes and then throw back whatever I’m exchanged for.”
Wesley nodded.
“Good luck.”
She entered into the new
dimension, stepping into the wastelands in the heart of the frozen north. Here
the effect of the disease was already discernable to her eyes. She could see it
roiling through the skies like a spider web of power, preparing to consume the
life of the world and everything on it.
oooo
Angelus worked diligently, with
a craftsman’s skill, playfully skimming a blade over skin that crawled to the
teasing touch, muscles twitching in expectation. Finally, searing pain that was
almost welcome, the agony a more tangible enemy than the dull, thudding fear of
anticipation.
“Will you not scream for me,
childe? I love to work to music.”
Spike made no sound and Angelus
shrugged and returned to his labour with the precision and concentration of a
surgeon rather than a butcher.
“You and I, we always have such
fun together. I’ve always loved your company, Will.” He began to hum a lilting
Irish melody. Spike felt betrayed. Angelus had never treated him like a victim
before. He allowed his head to droop wearily.
Angelus stepped back, watching
with interest the delicate bloom of blood, how it welled and spread. He traced
the flow of blood with tongue and fang, stopping as his face nestled onto
warmth that emanated from newly burnt flesh. This was artistry. Hmmm. Maybe it
was time to teach his new minions a thing or two. He brought in his most
trusted underlings and allowed them to watch.
“May I try?” Kyle asked,
stepping forward and putting his hand to the tortured flesh.
Angelus growled in fury, his
eyes were burning cinders as he reached for the disrespectable little lackey
and in one violent movement twisted his head off.
“No.” He told the drifting ash
of Kyle. “Nobody touches him but me.”
Elle eyed the falling ashes with
contempt and then looked back at Spike.
“Master? May I ask who he is?”
“This is my childe. Your master.
To lay hands on him is to lay hands on me.”
“He too is my master? Must I do
as this… thing tells me?” She asked scathingly.
“The time will come when he will
tear you to pieces himself if you don’t.”
“Is he so powerful?” She eyed
the body doubtfully.
“You have no idea.”
“Why do you hurt him?”
“Because I enjoy it. And he was
disobedient and refused to learn his lessons.”
But Angelus lied. There was no
real pleasure. It was merely a means to an end. Sure, there was some satisfaction
in his skill there his usual joy escaped him. Still no need to let his minions
see his vulnerabilities, this lesson was partly for their benefit. Fear was one
way of ensuring loyalty.
Elle circled around the blonde
vampire.
“He’s pretty.”
Angelus turned so quickly she
didn’t see the movement and suddenly he was in front of her.
“He’s mine.”
Those words were spoken softly
and held a world of insanity behind them, probably hers if she ever came
between him and his childe. She nodded and vowed never to come near the other
vampire again.
The days wore on. Withdrawing
only to hunt and to sleep, giving time for Spike to regain consciousness and
contemplate tortures to come.
At first, Spike took refuge in
some part of his body that wasn’t in agony. When his fingers snapped he moved
his mind to his toes and contemplated his toes. They were whole and held no
pain. When holy water trickled down his feet and the skin of his toes bubbled
and cooked, he had nowhere left to hide. He turned in on himself.
The self took refuge in a corner
of his mind, peanut size it held the kernel of his sanity and whilst the body
was wracked, it held itself aloof within its shell and in amazement wondered;
who is it who bleeds, who cries, who screams? It was the part that could plan,
whilst his body arched and howled. It was the part that could remember happier
times as visions passed before it; a face, a word, a breath. It was the part
that neither Glory, or Buffy, or Angelus could ever break. It was his essence,
his balance, his centre of being.
Angelus cut and he beat until
the basement floor was rusty and wet with blood, and Spike’s body was a sunken
and scarred facsimile of the perfection it had been. He was surprised how such disfigurement
troubled his mind, for he knew it was temporary, nothing more than childish scratches
in the sand, to be swept clean with the next day’s tide. So he continued with
his necessary work.
“Are you still with me,
William?” Angelus enquired, dragging the blonde head up and staring into
bloodied, ferocious eyes that were fairly snapping with fury.
“Aye. You’re still there aren’t
you? Still got nothing to say to me?”
Angelus shook his head in mock
disappointment.
This body hanging from the wall had
been his obsession. It had been bitten, drained and starved, until his childe
hung like a painted canvas. An old master in a gallery, drawing the eye but
oblivious to the attention. Removed from reality, existing in a world of his
own.
Angelus acknowledged it had a
beauty of its own. Perfection was in the detail.
Silken skin that clothed a
whip-lean body. Arms spread either side, with neither flesh nor fat but sinew
and muscle, corded and stretched, as his head drooped. His body a canvas
coloured with the rich hues of pain; dripping red that dried to the colour of
rust, roses of blue, sunburst yellow and pools of violet, spread against the
white of his skin. Decorated with bites and scars flawlessly placed.
Yes, it was perfect. But now it
was time for the results of his diligence.
“Poor, Spikey. I hated to do
this too you…. But I’m getting bored. Shall we cry truce? Here, let me release
you.”
He unlocked cruel manacles and
the tortured body dropped to the floor. Angelus crouched next to him, cradling
his head.
“I’m not without pity. Feed,
childe. Drink deeply and heal. Come back to me, little one.”
Spike’s demon emerged as hot,
pulsing blood roused his senses. The scent was deep and rich. He began
salivating. The pulse was strong, reverberating around the room and echoing
within his head. Starved and injured, his demon called for blood, drawn towards
seductive human warmth. It called to him, sang to his demon rendering him
almost senseless with desire.
His jaw dropped open and without
thought or conscious volition his fangs began to press against delicate skin,
he opened his eyes and found himself looking into the blue eyes of a newborn
babe. He cried aloud and turned his face away, gritting his teeth, locking his
jaws shut to prevent his demon from betraying him and sinking teeth into
tender, tempting flesh.
“It’s already dead, Spike. Give
its death meaning. Let its life nourish you, flood your mouth and scald your
tongue with vitality.” Angelus cajoled. “If you won’t taste it, then I’ll break
its neck and toss the carcass aside.”
The souled vampire tried to
close his ears to distressed cries and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but he
could not block out the sounds and a pitiless crack and the dead silence that
followed announced another innocent and a lifetime’s potential had passed away.
“Such a waste.” Angelus murmured
sadly, dropping the lifeless body at the feet of the damaged vampire.
“So what next?” Spike tried to
spit, but his voice was dry and harsh, cracking over the words. “You’ve tried
pain. I suppose despair or helplessness or some such rot. What’s next on the
list?”
“You should know by now, I’ve
never been one to paint by numbers, it limits imagination.”
Spike just grunted and hoped he
could hang in for the next part of the ride.
oooo
It had been big and angry. The
slayers had grabbed it and Giles had stunned it with his tazer.
“That’s the five minutes up.
Throw it back, please.”
The slayers picked it up and
tossed it through the portal. As it disappeared
“Uh…thanks.”
“Was it the right place?”
“Oh yes. Has anyone got a
blanket? It is freezing there. We’re talking arctic.”
“Do you know what’s happening?”
“I think so. I’d have to see the
complete cycle to truly understand it. At the moment, it’s still powerful from
its last feeding. It seems to have two aspects, one at each pole. Beginning in
the north and south, an ever increasing web of power is being spun out across
the world. I think that the whole thing goes kablooey when the two sides meet
at the equator. This is what triggers the feeding fest. In minutes it drains
the world, opens a portal and it, or possibly its children, move on to a new
world.
“You’re suggesting it uses the
power to replicate itself?”
“Exactly. I suppose the meeting
at the equator could almost be their equivalent of mating. Anyway, they move on
to the next world, leaving behind the kind of destruction that happened in
Chi’lustra. Without the life force to give it heat and hold it together, the
world crumbles away. The man that Angelus killed kept it at bay by protecting
the life force, preventing it from feeding. He was holding it in abeyance but
not defeating it. The man was right, it’s a parasite. It needs these worlds to
continue. Anyway, once he was dead it completed its cycle and began again in
this new dimension.”
“Can you do anything to stop
it?”
“Maybe, but I need to study it
for a while.”
“You have to go back there?”
Giles asked.
“I have some ideas but there are
some Beings I need to have a chat with.”
“Beings?” Wesley asked.
“Uh huh. You’d be amazed how
cranky some gods get when something destroys their world.”
She looked particularly
ingenuous as they gazed at her in stunned silence.
“Is it just me or does this girl
give anyone else the cold shivers?” Gunn asked.
“Talking of cold, have I
mentioned that it’s freezing there? So find me a few nice, how to keep warm and
cosy spells, please?” She begged.
Giles gave her a concerned
smile. “We’ll see what we can do.”
“Uh, Willow? Will you be away
long. I mean it’s just that we need to be able to contact you when you’re not
in this dimension, you know, in case of emergencies. I’ve had one or two
thoughts if you’d like to…” Fred offered tentatively.
“They get on well together. I
suppose it’s because their minds work at the same level.” Gunn said.
Wesley looked after them as they
chatted excitedly about the new ideas.
Gunn opened his eyes wide.
“Whoa! You must be messing with
me. You’re jealous!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Wesley
replied crossly, but his eyes lingered on them.
“Fred and
oooo
Angelus tumbled down the dark
cellar, the reek of alcohol announcing his presence even before the crash and
clatter of his ungainly entrance. He lay where he’d fallen slumped against the
wall.
Spike opened a swollen eye, his
body tense and wary. Angelus was always unpredictable but Angelus rolling drunk
was anyone’s guess.
“I’m drunk ma boy.”
His Irish accent was strong, as
though the act of drunkenness had regressed him to his old humanity. He seemed
to be attempting to focus, his forehead wrinkling with the effort.
“By gods, boy, look at the state
of yer!” He shook his head sadly, “Why d’yer keep doing this to yerself?”
Spike stirred and was almost
goaded into speech. But he wouldn’t give the tosser the satisfaction.
“Dinna look at me like that,
boy. I know what yer thinkin’ – that it was meself who caused all that. But I
ask yer, what choice did yer leave me eh? Yer always do it to yerself, makin’
sure I’ve no choice in it.”
Now the blonde vampire was
beginning to feel like one of those sorry bints all it needed was…
“I only do it because I care, I
love yer, Childe.”
Now that was too much, there was
no way he could hold his tongue. He hated that Angelus still knew how to pull
his strings. He gave a fractured laugh that almost broke into something else
entirely.
“You? Love?” His voice sounded
creaky and weak to his ears and he spat out a mouthful of blood as he cleared
his throat. “You wouldn’t know how. Even the giant smurf said you had no human
feeling in you.”
Angelus hid his delight at obtaining
a response.
“Nah, nah. What makes yer think
that love is a human feeling? Can’t a snake love his family?”
“Dunno about snakes, but you
can’t. Was it love that kept me chained in that wheelchair?”
That seemed a peculiarly odd
gripe, even to Spike, considering his current predicament, but it was one that
had always kind of hurt. If he was being given the chance to speak his mind
then he would start with that.
“Ah, Will, so clever but so
mistaken. What would yer have done once me healin’ blood made yer healthy and
whole?” He didn’t wait for answers. “You’d have challenged me, you’d have tried
to take Dru and when you failed and all was lost, yer would have left us. Don’t
try to deny it. Anyway, yer know I wasn’t quite me old self. All those years
spent incarcerated within sheaves of blinding light, never allowed to partake
of the world. It enraged me. I needed to hurt everything he loved; I made his
beloved my obsession.”
“Right and this time you’re a
poster child for sanity.” Spike managed to raise a sneer from his swollen,
bloodied lips.
“This time I’m more meself and
‘tis all thanks to you me boy. My sweet boy.”
It looked like maudlin drunken
tears were quivering on the end of his eyelashes and his voice thickened with
emotion.
“You made the soul accept me. We
nested and hunted and played with the tame slayers. A small amount of freedom
and a taste of life. After captivity it was like bein’ given the world. Yer
gave me the world, boy. And now I’m here what am I to do with it?”
He produced some fulsome tears
and allowed them to roll unhindered down his cheek. Spike was horrified. It was
truly unnerving to see tears on those beautiful, impenetrable features.
They stared at each other in
silence.
oooo
There was nothing they could do
until
Instead their thoughts turned
again to Spike and Angelus.
“I may have something.”
“Go girl! What you got?”
“A newspaper report. Two weeks
ago, pranksters in a Halloween mask attacked a
“Maybe. It seems a bit tentative
though?”
“There’s a description of the
main assailant. Powerful build, dark hair and wearing a leather coat.”
“Still…”
“And… look at this. It was in
the same paper just a few days earlier.”
“Two appeals for missing persons
to come forward.”
“So I checked the missing
persons statistics for the year and in the last month it’s more than tripled!”
Wesley came across and together
with Gunn examined Fred’s results.
“This is excellent. Well done,
Fred!”
“So how are we going to play
this?” Gunn asked. “We can’t just send the slayers in and comb the city it
would only make him run again.”
“I’m not sure. Giles will be
here soon, we’ll bring the Council in on this and see what we can come up with
between us.”
They brought out a map of
“This is no use; Angelus is too
clever to leave clusters of bodies or to make his lair the central point of the
finds. He knows how we work.”
When Giles arrived they briefly
brought him up to speed on the latest developments.
“The Council doesn’t have any
representatives in
“Maybe its time to use your
slayers?”
“God knows they need something
practical to do. They’re reaching boiling point.”
“The thing is they need to be
discreet, they can’t go in all guns blazing. If Angelus skips town we’ll have
to begin our search all over again.”
“Yes, quite. Hold on a minute…”
Giles’ brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to dig through his memory to
the nugget he was searching for. “Yes! I believe one of the
“Having someone there who knows
the city would be immensely helpful and of course the brother might save us
rehashing information they’ve already processed. Is she reliable?”
“She’s one of the first slayers
that Spike met in
“Partner?” Gunn asked.
“Spike taught them to work and
fight in pairs. It’s been extremely successful.”
“Right. So that’s the plan
then?”
They all nodded their agreement.
oooo
Angelus still lay in the place
he’d fallen and was staring up at Spike.
“It’s not my world anymore.”
Tears had left glistening tracks
upon his cheeks.
“We used to walk this world like
ancient gods. Now my sire is gone forever. She was glorious, was she not? Self-centred
and perfect - who could ever replace her? My insane daughter is wandering the
world, lost and alone. And you, my childe, yet not my childe, with that spark
ashimmerin inside you, peeking out in yer eyes. I dinna blame yer. Always
wantin' to be like yer sire, I had a soul so you went chasin' hell for leather
after one. Ah William, ‘tis a sad tale to tell and I am distraught. It nigh
breaks the heart of this old, pathetic demon.”
And indeed, he did seem a sad
sight in his rumpled clothes and with his dishevelled hair, he appeared almost
piteous. Maybe something small stirred inside Spike’s heart, for despite his
determination not to be drawn into conversation he now wished he could think of
some words of comfort. Then he felt anger at himself, for he was still bound,
chains tearing his skin, pain stinging every part of his tortured body.
Starving, drained and now forced to listen to the maudlin whiskey-induced
ramblings of his tormentor.
He could feel weakness breaking
over him again, his preternatural body too wrecked for consciousness. But his
mind was still strong.
“You’re breaking my heart. Just
sod off, Angelus, and stop playing these games with me, I’m tired of them. I’m
too old and I know you too well.” His voice was soft, he didn’t have the
strength for his normal drama.
“You know me not at all! Nobody
understands me.”
An ironic smile touched Spike’s
lips.
“So you take up the cry of every
drunk in the land. You’re right, you are pathetic.”
“Why must you hate me? Wasn’t it
myself who stood with yer, shoulder-to-shoulder for nigh on twenty years? Was
it me who abandoned yer? Left yer to face the world alone? There was so much
more to teach yer and I would never have abandoned my dearest childe. Yer were
too young to face the world alone and it mystifies my mind how you survived
those long years.”
“I fought.” His voice was croaky
and fading. Weakness was surging around him, dragging on his body and smothering
him.
“Every night I fought. I grew
strong.”
Angelus was moved to push
himself shakily to his feet.
“Ah, my poor childe. I would
have been with yer still if I could.”
Angelus’ voice sounded muzzy and
faraway.
“But you couldn’t and
everything’s changed.”
“Everything, except for one
thing. I would never willingly abandon you. Even now.”
“Angel would never have
willingly abandoned me either.” Spike replied softly. That was the thought that
he clung to as the inky sea swallowed him, like a drowning sailor clinging to the
wreckage of his ship.
“And what do you know, Spike?”
Spitting his name on whiskey clouded breath.
But Spike had spent all his
energy and once more returned to blessed unconsciousness, the stench of alcohol
mixing unpleasantly with that of cold blood and decay, which followed him even
into his dreams of rum and tar and thirst.
His drunkenness miraculously
cured, Angelus admitted temporary defeat and reconsidered the problem.