Come Back to Me
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 20
Cordelia entered the room just as Willow finished telling Spike about the Powers’ plans for him. His reaction was what she’d thought it would be, disbelief and ranting protest but ultimately taking on the responsibility to go save if not the world, certainly his. She watched his head droop, and then he braced his shoulders and nodded his curt acceptance of his role as sketched out by the PTB.
“Hello, Spike. Long time no see. No hug?”
Spike quirked an eyebrow as he looked her over; there was a serenity about her that was light years from the Valley drama queen of Sunnydale. If he was hoping Willow had gone nuts and the cheerleader was insane, one look at her face told him otherwise. No, Cordelia was the real thing all right, voice of the gods. Looks like he’d been handed the shitty end of the stick. Still, no point fretting over it – he had his girls to save.
And Angel.
Talk about rubbing salt in the wounds. It was typical! That bastard could mess with everybody’s life, manipulate all and sundry to his own ends and still he gets the get out of jail free card! Just wasn’t fair. But then was life ever?
“Right then.” he said cheerily, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like I get to play hero - again. Getting’ kinda boring, you know, no challenge. But a vamp’s gotta do…..”
The tension in the room eased at his light words. Faith actually laid a hand gently on his arm, just for a moment, before moving away to sit at one of the lab stations. It was an unexpected show of support, a boost to his bruised soul to know that people were rooting for him. But hadn’t he come there to tell them something important?
Oh yeah. Trouble. That was it. He cleared his throat, but nobody paid him any attention.
The buzz of conversation had started up again, giggles and whispers permeating the air. Cordelia took a seat on the workbench that bore Fred's research notes, scanning the familiar – and not so familiar – faces. She was composed, in charge, and effortlessly commanding the room's attention and without any prompting the assembly stopped chatting and turned to face her, waiting for instructions. She opened her mouth to speak...
“Oi! Hang about! How come the bint gets all the attention? Is she gonna fight to save Peaches from oblivion? Nah, didn't think so. You might wanna listen to what I have to say then!”
The group turned as one, Cordy's mouth snapping shut in shock. Wasn't much that could upstage Queen C – but whatever it was the heroic vamp had it in spades. She silently gave him kudos, wishing she'd gotten to know him better back in SunnyD.
“Right. Look, we've got trouble. Maybe. Red -- the Whelp, you spent time with him lately? He's in a bad way. We bumped into each other – literally – just before. He came staggering out of Angel's office, none too steady on his pins. Thing is – the boy said that he couldn't wait to see me gone. Now I know, it’s his favourite line – but this was different. He was talking like it was planned. I think he's signed up with Angel.”
Spike expected outrage. Tears. Possibly the odd gasp of shock. He was disappointed.
“Did you hear me? Harris has turned to the dark side.”
Giles cleared his throat, indulged in a quick lens-wipe. “Yes, Spike. We already know. Harmony tipped us off earlier in her usual incompetent fashion. If ever we needed evidence that Angel wasn't himself it's the fact that he trusted Harmony to do something important. Of course, she messed it up. Here, take a look at this. What do you make of it?”
Spike took the proffered medallion. He turned it in between his fingers, tilting his head to scan it properly.
“Demonic. Protection amulet, probably. Nothing high grade, just a marker. Where'd you get it?”
“Harmony gave it to us. Seems Xander left it behind in Angel's office after his meeting and he'd ‘earned’ it. Harmony couldn't be bothered to go and find him herself and was all too pleased to pass it to us – his friends.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah. Charming friends you've got there, Watcher.” He handed the disk back to Giles.
“Quite, Spike. We thought it was protection too. And we can only surmise, therefore, that Angel is about to finalise his plans, which apparently involve danger to the rest of us.”
“Erm, can I cut in, guys? Because, you know, being of the Powers I may just have a valid perspective. Not that I want to stop you from bonding or anything.”
Cordelia commanded attention and got it, all eyes now focused on her. “Well. I take it that Willow has brought everyone up to speed on the situation and Spike's part in it all.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. Be sure to tell the soddin' Powers that I owe them one -- preferably of a fiery and painful nature.”
“Be grateful for the second chance you've been given, Spike. After all, if the Powers hadn't needed you, you'd still be just one more pile of dust in the Hellmouth. Course, I can always tell them they've made a mistake...”
Spike smirked. Smooth, very smooth. “Nah. Might as well see it through while I'm here. Not sure what’s so special about Peaches, mind. Tosser's a bloody liability if you ask me. He’s a nasty piece of work even with the soul – which he seems to lose like most blokes lose socks. Wouldn't it be better all round if he just went poof, once and for all?”
“His time here is not done. His destiny is set along a different path, a path that he has strayed from. He is needed.”
“Yeah, and I'm not – I get it. I'm expendable; well hell, bring it on. Let's get this over and done with then my girls can get on with the mourning of me and things can get back to normal.”
Cordelia smiled. Spike was all bravado and bluster, but she knew how much it cost him to dismiss things so lightly. She hoped the Powers had heard her plea and would reward his nobility with that which he yearned for. Sadly, she reflected on the difference between the two ensouled vampires; Angel looked tarnished by comparison with this shining creature. Spike's motives were pure; everything was for the love of his girls. He didn't have any hidden agenda, never claimed to be doing it for the greater good. If the greater good benefited him on the way, that was fine, but Buffy and Dawn’s future would always come first - even if it meant sacrificing himself. Angel could learn a lot from him.
“Patience, Spike. All is in readiness. The trials will begin within the hour.”
“Well, in that case – I’ve got things to do, people to see. I'll be back.”
With a whoosh of soft leather, he was gone before anybody could say or do anything to stop him. He strode along the corridor, deep in thought. He didn't intend telling Buffy the worst of it, just make the most of what time they had left together. He was under no illusions. He hadn't suffered decades of guilt as Angel had; so the Powers would chew him up and spit him out if it meant they’d get their precious champion back. Life sucked. Always had. He’d probably be best off out of it… but for Buffy.
He was almost at the medical wing when he sensed Buffy's distress and heard the clatter of metal on tile. He broke into a run, skidding to a halt when Angel came bursting out of the room in full game face, his mouth smeared with blood. Buffy’s blood! Spike instantly vamped, fangs sharp and poised to tear. A red haze descended, eradicating all reason. The Powers could get fucked. Angel was dust.
Buffy spotted Spike poised to pounce and shouted his name, Angel too becoming aware of his presence. The darkened hall in the lower reaches of Wolfram and Hart echoed, its marble walls and floor bouncing the sound of footsteps back and forth. Buffy didn't know if Spike realised that it was Angelus and not Angel he faced. Or at least, it seemed that way to her. Surely Angel wouldn't act like this? She willed Spike to feel her through the link he'd forged and know the danger he faced.
“Angelus. Glad to see you've shed your mask. Didn't suit you anyway.”
“Spike!” spat Angel. “Just the runt I was looking for. In what dreamland did you think you could claim what’s mine! Buffy’s always belonged to me and the pathetic little advantage you think you’ve got isn’t going to change a thing. It’s gone the second you dust.”
Before Buffy could move, the two vampires slammed together, blond hair and brown tangling as they tussled and rolled on the floor. Angel had the advantage of bulk and age; Spike was lean and fast, and had the strength of his love to fuel the fight for his girls. Angel might say it – but Spike lived it.
Buffy raced back into Dawn's room and smashed a chair, grabbing a leg for a stake. She knew Spike would want to handle this himself, but if it came to it she would dust Angel. Should have done it back in Sunnydale but her young heart wasn't ready then. Now it was. Now her heart was full of Spike and clear to see what she allowed first love to mask for too long. Sprinting back to the angry vampires she stood, stake poised, eyes darting over them and ready for any sign that Spike was hurt.
They were evenly matched. Angel’s advantage of height and weight enabled him to keep Spike held down on the floor despite his best efforts to flip Angel off. But that bulk made him clumsy and Spike’s agility and strength meant he kept shrugging off his grip. Angel managed to get his hand around the throat of his hated rival and squeeze, intending to wrench through the bone and gristle of Spike’s neck and rip his head off. But Spike's knee in his groin put paid to that and he howled in agony as he rolled over into a ball. A kick to his kidneys followed and it took every ounce of will to lumber to his feet and face his relentless foe again.
Spike had a cut above his eyebrow that was dripping blood down his face. He snaked out his tongue and lapped at the crimson fluid, golden eyes glinting with hatred and fixed on Angel's bruised features. He saw Buffy behind Angel take a step forward, stake raised, and shook his head slightly. This was his to do.
“You want more, Peaches? I've got more to give; I could dance all night with you. Or had you forgotten?”
Angel snarled. From the moment Dru had sired this wimpish poet wrapped in a killer's shell he'd been a thorn in his side. He'd tried to break him over the years but every beating, every buggering, every kindness turned to cruelty just made him harder and more troublesome. He'd allowed him an existence just to keep Dru happy. But no more.
Fangs glinting under the fluorescent lighting, the two demons clashed again in a flurry of blows and kicks. Every slight, every wound, every wrong done one to the other was bundled up and thrust into the fight for once and for all. They bounced off the walls of the corridor, crashing through a plate glass window and landing amongst the glittering shards that sliced at bloody flesh. Buffy followed, her heart in her mouth as she surveyed the damage. She knew deep down that a cut, no matter how deep, wouldn't kill Spike – but seeing his body seeping blood put paid to logic. All that mattered was protecting her love. She had to help him.
+ + + +
Cordy's head snapped back, her eyes glazing to milky opalescence, her body stiff as she hovered three inches above the floor. The buzz of conversation stopped as one by one they noticed that something very odd was happening. Gunn raced to her, knowing how previous trances had ended with Cordelia collapsing in pain. He was ready to catch her therefore when the vision left her.
Cordy gasped out words, no time for explanations. “Spike…and Angel! Hurry – Dawn's room.”
Faith sprinted off down the corridor, Kennedy on her heels and Willow bringing up the rear and calling on the Goddess for assistance. Wes and Giles took a detour to Wes' room and collected an assortment of weapons, meeting up with Fred and Gunn as they were exiting the lab - leaving Cordy to Lorne's tender care - and joined in the rescue… or the execution.
Faith skidded to a halt at the doorway to Dawn's room, but there was no sign of Angel or Spike. There was blood though, and shattered glass by a large window. Faith took to her heels and barrelled down the hall, following the unmistakeable sounds of combat.
Spike and Angel were rolling on the floor made slippery with their spilled blood. It seemed that neither had the upper hand; that is until Buffy stepped forward and brought the stake down in a descending arc towards Angel's waiting back.
It never reached flesh. Faith seized Buffy's wrist and stilled her onslaught, her responding snarl stifled when Faith's hand clamped over her mouth. Snapping her head round, Buffy's eyes were feral and outraged as she elbowed Faith in the face causing the brunette to fall, landing on her butt.
“Don't ever...touch me...” Buffy hissed, pouncing on her sister slayer and pummelling her with vicious fists. She was in a frenzy, a warrior fighting to protect her own. Faith grabbed at Buffy's wrists, holding her until the red haze disappeared. Finding herself stymied by her sister slayer's strength, Buffy sagged forward, head bowed, and stopped fighting.
“Buffy,” Faith hissed. “There's another way. Cordy's worked it out. Despite how it looks, he's not Angelus. Please. He saved me once and I owe it to him to give him a chance.”
Buffy's eyes glittered hard as she stared at Faith. She was past caring whether he was Angel or Angelus – and the last thing he deserved was another chance. But Faith was right. If Angel could be redeemed – well, it was her duty. Doing the right thing. Always had been, always would be. No matter how much it hurt. She wanted to scream at the injustice.
Buffy wrenched her wrists free from Faith's grip and got to her feet. Angel and Spike were too occupied in their own battle to notice the interplay between the Slayers. None of them were aware of the audience now standing ready to intervene. Willow stepped forward, placing a hand on Buffy's heaving shoulders, cringing when Buffy shrugged it off.
“I'm fine, Willow,” she snapped. “If you want to help, do something about that” as she nodded to the tussling vampires, “as I clearly can't.”
Faith stepped in front of Willow as she made her way to the fight scene. “No staking, Will. I mean it.”
Willow nodded, her eyes black in readiness for the spell she'd been building. Lips moving, Willow pointed her fingers then brought her palms together with a loud clap. Angel and Spike were torn apart forcibly, both ending up on opposite sides of the room, dazed from the force with which they'd struck the wall. Buffy raced to Spike's side, checking him over for broken bones before wrapping him in a bear hug. Spike winced, his arms coming up to hug her weakly.
“'m alright, pet. Just a bit dazed is all. What the fuck was that?”
“Willow.”
“Bloody hell! Remind me to redefine ‘being on the same side’ for her, will you? Where’s Peaches?”
“Over there. Still with us. I tried...”
“If only! Buffy, love, it’s not for you to do. God…nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see his dust wafting out the window, but the Fuckers That Be have other plans. I'm sorry, pet – I didn't want to tell you like this but I've got to go be a hero one more time.”