Disclaimer: Joss, Eve6, not me.
Part: 2/2. or should I go on? I don't know. Tell me? I'm thinking
maybe a series but I don't know where it would lead. This ending
takes up it's tale in the mid story so it's kinda obvious the change.
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Spoilers: End of Days. Cannon? That's a four letter word.
Warning: Mega Angstage, like coming out the ears.
Thanks Poison.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike wandered drunkenly into the cemetery. The sky was red and everything smelt of dew. Sighing he sat at the foot of Joyce's headstone. He ran his fingers though his curls and laughed. "Goodbye cold fucking world. Excuse the French Joyce, but I hold no compation for this world anymore. It's dead for me. Do you realize that, in only moments, I will see the first sunrise I've seen in well over a hundred years? And I can't think of anyone I'd rather see it with. I loved the sunrise in life. I used to get up to see it everyday and write bad poetry on the subject. That's the one thing I hated when I was turned. I wasn't allowed to see it anymore. I'd been damn and was denied the pleasure."
Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon
"What are you doing, childe?" Angel demanded, suddenly appearing in front of him.
Looking up, Spike smiled at his sire. "I'm either drunk and hallucinating or dead."
"You're not dead though you will be in a minute," Angel said looking at the night's sky, which was rapidly becoming the day's. "Come on, childe. Let's go inside."
"I'm dead," Spike said with certainty. "You hate me. And why are you calling me childe? You haven't called me that in forever, not in that tone of voice: the one where you're not tryin' to rip every fiber of my being into a thousand pieces."
"I don't hate you," Angel said, picking up the boy when he realized Spike was paralytic with drink.
"See 'm dead and the Powers sent you here to keep an eye on meh until they figure out where to put meh. They didn't get you right though. You're not meh sire. He hates me and his hair is better."
Angel brought a worried hand to his hair. "I've been here all day, and - and - and it's humid here."
Laughing bitterly Spike said, "Well at least they got one thing right."
Heavily sighing, Angel dropped the intoxicated vampire on the tomb. "You are no deader than you were last night."
"You're a fucking liar, Spirit. Why would he be here? I'm not so drunk as to be so easily fooled. He wouldn't be here." He picked up a whisky bottle and Angel batted it away from his lips. Groaning and looking around he said, "The afterlife looks a lot like my crypt. Hey, look, there's my suicide note. I guess the real you on the astral plane 'll find it. Maybe you won't, why would you come here? But I just felt compelled to leave some sort of an explanation."
"Spike, I assure you: you are *not* dead," Angel said, tired but somehow seeing humor in the horrible scene. "You're very drunk, but not dead."
"So
what will you say, do you think, when you find it? Do you think you'll
be upset? Here's what I think, specter sire, I think you're going to sigh
a big fucking sigh of relief - because the idiot childe is gone. You don't
have to worry about what I'm going to do, what disgrace I'll bring upon
you. You're off the hook!" He was hysterical by this point. He fell into
the "spirit's" arms. "I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry, m' sorry. But
at least
you don't have to deal with me anymore."
"Hush, childe. I'm here now; I want to deal with you. I'll take care of you. You're not a disgrace; you're my favorite. Remember? You may be the `idiot childe,' but I still love you, always the favorite, Will, and your sire's gonna make you strong again. I promise."
"I'm dead," Spike stated while his sobs subsided. The announcement made Angel's eyes roll. "I'm dead. And they sent me to heaven by mistake. And when they realize that not only did I commit suicide, but that I did it after living as a vampire, they're going to rip it all away from me."
Suddenly none of it was funny anymore. "You're not dead, Spike, this isn't heaven, this is Sunnyhell."
"Or maybe this is some sort of pathetic hell, wherein I'm never sure if I'm dead and am perpetually drunk and told that maybe, just maybe my sire didn't hate me."
"I want to get you sober, Will. You live downstairs right?"
Spike nodded. "If you're real then why are you here?"
Angel swallowed harshly. "Darla came back, a law firm brought her back from being *really* dead. Anyway there was a spell and a prophecy and we had a child. And through another long convoluted string of events he became fifteen in about two weeks and hated me for his not being normal. And I got said law firm to wipe his memory and give him a new "normal" life, with a normal mom and dad and college and siblings and sunlight. And it burned, but not as much as it burned when I thought about the fact that I had willingly let you leave."
Laughing, Spike said, "I never left. I waited, even when Darla told us you had a "filthy soul" I stayed in Romania waiting for you to come back. The girls left and I waited. But you were so busy hating us all you never came back."
Laughing with Spike, a matching bitter laugh Angel said, "I didn't think you would be there. I thought you hated me."
"For getting fucked over? How could I hate you for that? I just wanted you not to hate me."
"I can't ever hate you, Will."
"Are you sure I'm no-"
"You're not dead," Angel said with a smirk, picking his boy up and jumping down the hole that led to the downstairs. He saw the bed and smiled. "You kept it."
"Of course I did," Spike said, giving him a dirty look as though it should have been obvious. His eyes were red from drink and tears and cigarette smoke. "What?" he asked looking at Angel's face.
"How sober are you?"
"Enough to know that I'm not dead, not so much as to make me wish I was. Why?"
"If I kiss you now are you going to blame the sauce?"
"You kissed Buffy."
"She kissed me! I told her to fuck off because I wanted you. She said you were together."
"Cold comfort: nothing real."
"I told her as much."
"If you're not careful she's going to realize you're not half so tortured or nice as you pretend to be."
"Oh well," Angel said with a sardonic smirk to the boy who knew him better than everyone else.
"What about your soul? You hated me last time you lost it."
"I hated you because you were more interested in Dru than in me. So I took her from you to prove a point."
"How sweet of you."
"I won't lose it. I love you too much to hurt you. I promise you."
"How are you so sure?"
"As your sire I promise you. Have I ever let you down?"
"Moscow."
"A hundred and ten years ago I failed to come through on a promise that you could ride the train. And I've black my copybook forever? Dru had a vision, Darla got moody, and Penn killed everything in sight what could I have done, childe? If I had had even *one* of those things under control I would have come through for you. I'd move heaven and earth for you . . . I have moved heaven and earth for you: remember? I opened that portal because you wanted to go to the world with no shrimp."
"You shouldn't have promised," Spike said sullenly.
"Will, This is a little more important than a train ride. I promise I won't fuck this up. And I did get you that train ride. It was ten years later but you got it none the less."
"The conductor was nice and interesting, he had some great stories. He should have cut down on fats his blood was very cholesterol ridden. Keep me?"
"Forever?" asked Angel with a hesitant smile as though he were afraid to even dare to hope.
"God yes." Spike smiled as he cuddled into his sire's arms.
"You sober?"
"Pretty much."
"Can I read your suicide note?"
"No!" Spike said vehemently with a laugh.
"Oh come on."
"No! God No."
"Please?"
"Why?"
"It'll be funny."
"Oh, fuck you, Sire, my suicide note's funny?"
"You're not dead."
"Sure I am this is hell, I'm stuck with you for eternity."
"Take that back."
"Make me."
"I'm warning you, childe."
"Whatcha gonna do? Take me across your knee?"
"Maybe."
"Please?"
"Let me read the note."
The End