::Did I hurt you?:: the dark vampires voice was tremulous. The smaller
man turned to meet the worried gaze. :: No, you--
he-- *you* fell over bleeding from the nose before you could do any
real damage. Didnt even get to mark me again::
Angel noticed the carefully avoided use of a pronoun in the last sentence.
He swallowed hard. ::That wouldnt have
finished it, Spike.::
The blond vampire shrugged. ::No, Im sure he had other plans past the tattoo.::
::I did.:: Angel asserted, offering up the chosen pronoun for the others
interpretation. ::And you would have let me do it?
Just like that, no questions asked, no arguments rendered.:: His
voice turned up slightly on the last, as if in
question. Pointless. He already knew the answer.
A terse nod. ::Of course.::
::Why, Will?? For Godssake, why? Dont you think you deserve better than that?::
A low rumble from the younger vampires chest. Small, but sufficient threat
display. ::Deserve?! Who the hell are you to
talk about taking what you deserve?! You still dont get it, mate,
do you? Two hundred fucking years and you still
have no bloody clue how I feel about you? What I would --- oh fuck
off!::
With that, the vampire stood up abruptly, with all intents to storm away.
Which was always so eloquent and effective a
maneuver when one was a big, bad, black clad demon -- when he suddenly
realized that that move was
strategically impossible. Somehow, while the two vampires had been
talking, their realm of reality had once again
shifted. The entire world had been effectively narrowed down to a
stone bench, a single Monet, and eachother.
There was simply nowhere to run.
::How you feel about me?:: Angel countered, his rage and confusion clouding
his reason. On some level, he realized
that their surroundings were...shrinking. And that should probably
take precedence. But it didnt. Not to him. Spike was
the only thing that mattered now; making things right with Spike.....So
he pressed on.
:: How you feel about me makes some difference in the way you let me treat
you? Youd let me beat the shit out of you
because you have *feelings* for
me?::
The blond shot him a look, which translated most literally into... *well, duh*.
It was the consummate irony finally, that truth. Of course Spike would
let him do that. He HAD let him do that. For over a
hundred years.
The dark haired vampires voice was subdued now. ::Do you wanna know what
I was gonna do, Spike? After the tattoo?
Do you wanna know?:: he didnt give the other man a chance to finish
before he went on, the words spilling
forth fast...faster...so he could not be tempted to do the easy thing,
and call them back....
::Cordy made me watch this movie once. We were working on a case involving
Voodoo, and she rented it, for research
she said...Anyway, it was about Zombies in Haiti...pretty much stupid
shit really. But there was this one scene...where
the head villian is torturing the poor American hero guy....And the
villian says...*I wanna hear you scream*.....::
Angel lifted his eyes then, to stare into the golden visage inches away
from him. The husky, hypnotic timbre of his voice
was drawing the boy in, and the older vampire knew it. Did nothing
to stop it...
::So the guy screamed. Out of fear, I guess. And gods, I had to fix my
jeans at that.....so reminiscent it was....and then
the Haitian man did this thing....the American guy was tied to a
wood chair, and the Haitian picked up a hammer, and
a huge spike....and he says, *not good enough*::
Spike met the gold eyes, stare unwavering. Angel fought the urge to slap
him. Foolish Childe. Foolish to think this was
erotic. Foolish to trust him.
::All I could think of was how much I wanted to do this. Which was when
the guy in the movie did the most amazing
thing....and Cordy about vomited....but I was glued to the screen,
Spike. I couldnt take my eyes off... the Haitian man
pulled the bound guys pants down and nailed his fucking testicles to the
wood chair with a spike. All I could think of was
you, and I tried, I tried not to....and I dreamed about it for weeks
anyway. And I wanted it.....And I was going to do
it...and YOU WOULD HAVE FUCKING LET ME::
His voice broke, finally, on the last, and he didnt know or care if it
was the demon or the man howling...He would have
done it, and his beautiful Childe would have *let him* do it....and
for what?
He was completely unprepared for Spikes reply, for the coating of calm
over heated rage....::Because I *want* to
belong to you. Because I cant stand myself when I dont. Because there
is NOTHING without all that, and more than
anything else I fear..NOTHING. When the Initiative had me, and they
were torturing me, y'know, that was Ok. I could
handle that. Shit, I been handling that for over two hundred lousy
years, alive, or dead...dont fucking matter.::
All semblence of composure lost now as the blond vampire continued, veins
popping out on his neck and forehead,
blue ribbons of anger. ::But when they had me so I couldnt
fight back...when they were putting that chip in me, and they
were talking about me...like I wasnt even sodding *there*...it was like
being...nothing. And then I got out and Im *still*
nothing...I cant hunt, I cant kill, I cant FEED. This damn Essence
Demon didnt have to look far to find my fears, Angel,
cause Im damn well LIVING them!::
Angel stared, unblinking. The tirade danced its way through his addled
brain, and there was an important point there...a
key actually....and living through this pretty well depended on him
figuring it out, and .... ---
{{THUD}}
The pair of vampires fell on their duster covered rumps as the bench beneath
them suddenly dissapeared.
The Watcher couldnt breathe. There were icy, vice like hands around his
middle, squeezing and compressing his
lungs; his heart clenched violently in the malevolent grip. He was
pressed backward against a hard surface, his
spine crushed against the pressure, the weight of the constant spinning.
He was going to lose control of all bodily
functions in a moment, he was certain of it; and wouldnt that be
embarassing if he survived... The G-force was crushing
his skull like a walnut. And still he couldnt scream. The tears froze
unshed in the corners of his eyes. Somewhere, far
away, someone shouted his name.
::Will yourself back, Spike. Do it now. Find me. Find me in the ground.::
The voice like a thread....and the vampire
followed it...grasping with both hands through the darkness that
was so much more than darkness...and climbing down
and down and down....
Muffled shout against the neck. Dirt in the mouth, the eyes, dirt covering
the bodies. Layers upon layers of dirt. Eight
feet of dark earth. Hundreds of tiny legs, whispering of boneless
creatures, slithering of worms. Insects
crawling between them, over them, on them, no difference in
their cold unmoving forms and the dead which
customarily lay here.
::Its all dissapearing, Angel,:: even the mind-speech had a shimmering
quality, an old record, worn from years of use.
Soon there would be --
{{nothing}}
A freight train whistle...a tornado...the sound so much like those...but
louder..more ethereal...And through the bed of
earth, Angel saw it...the swirling blue, like a cyclone...a holy
light...and wherever it touches the {{nothing}}
is extinguished...
Giles hovered on the edge of conciousness, watching the color and the lights
dance around his limp form. Tossed like
a ragdoll in the hands of a rancorous giant. He could barely make
out the forms which seemed to be
entombed....two pale gods in a death embrace....Suggestive of Spike
and Angel, the way he had left them on the
vampires bed, same pose...the platinum covering the shadow, seraphs
and demons, statues and men....and it has
been a long time the Watcher thinks, a long time since he has been
overcome with such a sense of awe....and
dread....
::Dont let go of me, Will::...Clawing through the dirt , carrying the weight
of his Childe effortlessly, one hand shooting up
through the soil...waiting for the burning which does not come. Faster
now, large bodies shielded by leather and
cotton against the beginnings of another abnormal sunrise. Preternatural
speed toward the swirling blue light.
Crackling, small hairs standing at attention, surge and jolt, unimaginable
pull. And everything between the vampires
and the fantastic sucking cyclone crumbling and turning to sand,
to dust.....
::Theres nothing left!:: a furious shout over the wail. ::We have to --::
Cut off by a nod, and a fierce hug combined with a timely lunge,
throwing both powerful bodies toward the mysterious
light, which is now the only thing there, save for a small patch
of earth upon which the vampires feet had stood.
Then there is pain. Squeezing, and pulling, and hideous spinning, and the
blond vampire is fairly certain he is going to
throw up. {{Had he really said he preferred this over *nothing*?
Was it too late to change his effin mind? }} He cant feel
Angels hand any more around his own. Cant feel anything but the searing
flames, and {{oh damn, good thing this isnt
physically real, cause that would really suck, eh mate}} And hes
not going to cry, for chrissake, like some nonce, cause
Angel isnt crying...Angel isnt...Angel isnt
::*Here!!*:: Spit out from the mouth of some giant fish, wet and cold and
shivering, on the two foot square scrap of earth
which is all that remains. ::Why are we back here!?::
::Its me. It wont let me go through....:: Angel is shouting again, but
its not necessary. The answer, the blind panic, clear
without words. ::You go, Will. Get out of here.::
All the while the wind kicking up the tiny bits of dust, soot covering
black clothes and white skin until it was all the same,
a dull shade of gray. Whats left of the ground rumbling dangerously.
Their footing uncertain, precarious.
::No! No Im not leaving, you idiot! Look, maybe nothing will happen...even
if the sun comes up..this isnt *real*, right? Its
not physical...so maybe we wont be dusted...maybe we wont dissapear
with the rest, maybe --::
::Im not taking that chance with you!:: Hands on his collar. ::Youre going without me, boy.::
Laughter over the ghastly sound of stalking Death.. ::Nice try. That kind
of power only works cause I choose to give it to
you. *When* I choose to give it to you. I bloody well dont now.
Im staying.::
Rabid, yellow glare. Large hands on the collar again, futile attempt at
a backward shove, boot clad feet locked firmly to
the slipping earth. Vampiric strength evenly matched. In the body,
in the essence. In the unwavering, animal stare.
{{blink}} A show of submission. Of defeat. Angel hung his head.
Then the smaller demon was in his arms suddenly, his body shaking violently
with unrestrained emotion. ::I lied, Angel. I
lied to you! I dont fear the Nothing most of all.... Its you! What
I fear most..... Its losing you.......... Dont ask me to do it....
I
wont...I wont...::
Angel wrapped his arms tightly around his Childe, rocking back and forth
on the shrinking patch of ground, lulled in the
timeless rythym of comfort.
{{Close your eyes}} The words sprang to the older mans mind, unbidden,
and carefully shielded from the smaller one in
his arms. {{Close your eyes}}. The words that had been harbingers
of every disaster God had ever wraught upon the
souled vampire. Whispered by Darla before she turned him. Cooed by
her, centuries later, as she blindfolded him,
and led him to his latest gift, a bound Gypsy girl. Murmured by Buffy
a century after that, when she kissed him and sent
him to Hell.
{{Close your eyes}} It will be easier if you dont see ......
He wouldnt do that to Spike.
Slowly, Angel pushed the blond back from him, his heart rending as the comfort of the embrace was ripped away.
His fear was the same as his Childes.
There were so many reasons why being a vampire wasnt...natural. Perhaps
the most potent of all was losing every
living creature, eventually, to death. The end comes for everyone
you know finally, and the demon animating the corpse
just keeps walking. What was it that Will had said to him, as they
stood in the alley the night Angel said his final
goodbyes to Buffys lifeless body...*they die, we live forever.*
It was almost true. Losing everyone he had ever loved wasnt really living, was it?
::Its my deepest fear too, Will. Losing you. And I guess, in the end, Im
still the weaker one.:: He sent that in his kiss, his
lips brushing over the younger vampires with all the tenderness he
possessed, all the love.
The younger man stiffened as the meaning struck....but there was no time for retort.
::Always::, Angel whispered.
And Spikes eyes were open as Angel pushed him backward, into the blinding
whirl of the light.
End Part 17b