Ratings: NC-17. Throughout this series, there will be language, violence, abuse, torture, bloodplay, religious/mystical/biblical reference with a vampire theme, incest, and EXPLICIT m/m slash. If any of this offends you, PLEASE do not read.
Pairings: Spike/Angel
Spoilers: BtVS through Season Five, and Angel through Season Two.
Disclaimer: I don't own BtVs or Angel characters. Joss Whedon, David Greenwald, Mutant Enemy and the WB...all rights. Some ideas and terms LOOSELY used from "Vampire: The Masquerade, the role- playing game created by Mark ReinHagen for White Wolf Game Studio. No infringement intended.
Feedback: PLEASE, I’d love to hear from you.
Dedication: To Red and Donna my beta-readers. And to all the ppl who helped me or contributed to this series: Saber ShadowKitten, Jessica, ShadowSword, Amanda, and Kristin.
{ } denotes thoughts
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 1~
Together with Riley and Xander, Buffy was keeping a watchful eye on her mortal enemy, who was sitting innocently on Giles’ couch. A deal had been made. Riley got one of the Initiative doctors to take the chip out of Spike’s head, and Spike, in return would help them bring down Adam. If successful and still alive, he would then leave Sunnydale and never come back. But Buffy was still wary; the chip was now out, and Spike was known for not keeping his word.
“Now tell me again what Adam said...”
“Cor, Rupert,” Spike rolled his eyes, “How many times do I have to go over this?”
Buffy leaned over to look Spike in the eye. “Until Adam is dead, Mr. Man Without Chip.”
“Sod off Slayer.” Spike pushed her angrily away.
But the push was weak at best, making Buffy look at him in surprise. {What the hell is wrong with him? He doesn’t look right. He’s flushed. A vampire is never flushed?} “You OK Spike? You look like you’re not feeling right?”
“You have your head sliced open, and see how you feel.”
“Sorry I asked Mr. Bitchy.”
“Didn't I just tell you to sod off?”
Buffy let out a snort of laughter, “Like you scare me, chip or no chip.”
“Children, please...” Giles began but was interrupted by a knocking on the door. “Wesley, Cordelia? What a surprise!” Riley had opened the door to the two very agitated visitors.
“Thank God, you’re all here. We’ve got a problem.” Wesley began. “When we arrived at work today...Cordelia and I, ...we had an unpleasant surprise...”
“Angel’s soulless again.” Cordelia interrupted Wesley’s ramblings.
“WHAT!” They had the attention of the whole room.
“This is a joke, right?” Buffy said weakly.
“I don’t think this bloke knows how to tell a joke.” Spike was sizing Wesley up carefully.
“Shut-up Spike.” Buffy turned to give him an evil look, but was surprised to see that there was no mockery on his face. He looked deadly serious.
“How could this have happened?” Concern was written all over Giles’ face.
“Some strange woman came to visit him last night. They were still talking when I left for the day. And this morning when Wesley and I show up for work, guess who’s there to greet us?”
“Did he try to hurt you?” Buffy was groaning to herself. Adam and ANGELUS! A nightmare come true.
“No.” Wesley shook his head. “Insulted and taunted us a bit, but said he didn’t have any interest in hurting us, as he needed to get to Sunnydale quickly to find his Childe.”
“Childe?” Giles pushed his glasses up, turning to Spike. “Is he referring to you? I was always unclear on who sired you. Some references have said that Angelus was your Sire; others have said Drusilla.”
“Dru’s my Sire.” Spike said shortly, but not very convincingly.
“That’s funny, because I’m sure that Angel once told me that he sired you.” Xander loved to stir up the pot.
Frowning at Xander, Spike quickly changed the subject. “What did the tart look like?”
“Tart? Oh the woman that came to visit last night.” Thinking hard, Cordelia tried to remember what she looked like. “Medium height. Different looking. Shoes didn’t go with her outfit.”
Six pairs of eyes rolled.
“Hair color? Eye color? Fat? Thin?” Xander prodded her.
“She looked semi-Chinese, but she spoke English like Giles and Spike...well, more like Giles.”
Buffy looked at Cordelia in bewilderment. What kind of description was that?
“Did Angel call her Alex?” Spike asked Cordelia.
“Yeah, yeah!” Cordelia looked excitedly at Spike. “That’s right. Alex.”
“Who’s Alex?” Wesley turned to Spike.
Shrugging his shoulders and trying to look nonchalant, “A vampire friend of Angel’s. Goes way back.”
“Spill Spike.” Buffy knew he was holding back.
“A powerful vampiress who also practices the black arts.” Shaking his head, Spike spoke quietly to himself. “But I don’t understand why she would want to desoul him.”
{Black arts!} “Well that would explain...” Wesley was interrupted by Giles’ front door flying open.
Angel. Game face on. Hand around the throat of a very frightened Willow. “Rupert, invite my friends in, and you can have Red back.”
“Are you insane? I won’t invite them in.” Giles looked over at the two vampires standing behind Angel in the doorway.
Tightening his hand around Willow’s throat, causing her to squeal, Angel growled again. “Invite them in. I’m not here to fight with you.”
Thinking only of the frightened girl in the demon’s grasp, Giles blurted out an invitation to the two vampires. As they stepped into Giles’ apartment, Angel released his grip on Willow, giving her a small push toward Buffy.
“What do you want...Angelus?” Giles eyed the vampire carefully.
Smirking at Wesley and Cordelia, “Didn‘t waste any time spreading the word. But none of you need to worry, I’m here only to reclaim my Childe.” Angel looked over at Spike.
Spike, still looking poorly, was slowly inching his way toward the staircase.{I can jump out of one of the upstairs windows.}
Reading his mind, Angel crossed the room, a predator stalking his prey. “I have minions surrounding the building. You can’t get away. It’s time for you to come home now, Childe.”
Backing up, Spike sent a pleading look over to Buffy. “Slayer?”
Buffy grabbed Angel’s arm. “He doesn’t need to go with you.”
Angel glared at her, yellow eyes flashing with rage. Pushing her hand off his arm, he growled at her. “Don’t interfere, Slayer. You’ve done enough damage to him.”
{Damage? What harm have I done to Spike lately?}
“William,” Angel shrugged out of his duster, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “You need to come with me *now*.”
{What the hell was the Poof doing? Undressing? And fuck! Why do I feel like I’m burning up inside?} “Not gonna come with you mate.”
“He never did listen well, did he?” An exotic looking woman walked gracefully through the door.
“This is all your fucking fault.” Spike yelled at the newcomer.
“And hello to you, too, William. Still have a mouth on you, I see.” The woman grinned cheekily at him, but then turned deadly serious. “Go to your Father, Childe. You’ve been poisoned. You need your Father’s blood.”
A confused Spike looked at Angel, who had with his index finger, had opened a vein across one dark nipple. The enticing scent of his Angel’s blood hit Spike like a sledgehammer. It had been so long! And one rarely got the chance to taste a Sire’s blood. Trying to ignore the scent, Spike turned angrily toward Buffy. “What are they talking about? What did you have done to me?”
Mystified Buffy looked over at Riley who could only shake his head helplessly. “Spike I don’t know...anything about this?”
Spike turned his rage on Riley. “Take me back to those quack doctors of yours. I want an cure.”
“There is no antidote.” Willow spoke up, fear still evident in her voice. Stepping toward Spike, she went on to explain. “Your...ah...Sire had me check into their computer records. It’s an experimental poison. An antidote was never developed. And now...” She trailed off looking at Angel fearfully.
“Your Adam blew up the lab and all your friends with it. Good riddance to all of them, but now there are no records or persons I can torture to give me the answers I want. But to make me feel better, I guess I could always torture you.” The last sentence was a deliberate taunt at Riley.
Shock, disbelief, and anger warred within Riley, making him forget for a moment who Angel was. “You lie!” Lunging at Angel, he hoped to take him down with a flying tackle, but so much stronger, Angel had him around the throat before Riley could even take a swing at him. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He hissed at the mortal.
“Angelus!” The vampiress, Alex barked at Angel. “You’re forgetting why we’re here.”
Growling, Angel dropped Riley to the floor, and then lunged so swiftly that the humans in the room never saw him move. Grabbing Spike by the back of the hair, Angel pulled his head back, exposing his throat. Biting into his Childe’s jugular, Angel drained Spike until he became limp in Angel’s grip. Reacting, Buffy started toward Angel but was stopped abruptly by one of the two vampires that Giles had invited in.
He was a handsome vampire with cruel, dark eyes and strange markings on his face. “This is not your concern, Slayer.”
Kneeling down, Angel pulled Spike to his breast, holding his head to the bleeding wound. “Drink Childe. My blood is strong.”
Hesitantly at first and then unable to resist, Spike began to suck the sweet nectar, as Angel gently stroked the back of his head.
“Make him go to sleep. He’s less of a pain when he’s asleep.” Alex had picked-up Angel’s duster and was wrapping it around Spike.
Standing up with Spike in his arms, Angel looked over at Giles and then at Buffy. “We’re not here to cause any trouble. In a couple days, we’ll be gone, and we won’t be back.”
~Part: 2~
Spooned up against his Childe’s back, Angel had one arm and one leg wrapped tightly around him. It was a familiar position, used mostly for self-defense though, as William couldn’t stay still, awake or asleep. Numerous times Angel had awakened with a bloody nose or a split-lip. Fighting his demons, or perhaps running from them? Feeling the younger vampire stir, Angel tightened his arm around him. {Ah, he’s awakening.}
“How are you feeling, Childe?” A whisper in his ear. Spike did a quick assessment. The fire inside of him was definitely better. Felt stronger, too. Only...a burning on the outside of his neck, like someone had held lit cigarettes to the area just alongside of the Adam's apple. “Neck burns...,” trying to release his hand to feel the area.
{Damn! That should have been healed by now? The poison must interfere with his vampiric healing ability.} Biting his index finger, Angel smeared some of his blood over the ‘mark’. “My fault Childe. Didn’t want to cause you more pain, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Had to rectify my mistake.”
{Mistake? Mistake? What the bloody hell is the poof talking about?} “What...??”
“A Blood-Childe is always marked. I should have marked you as mine years ago.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Anger, or perhaps it was fear that gave Spike enough strength to roll on his back, throwing Angel off of him. But before Spike could grab his neck, Angel had straddled him, pinning both of his hands above his head.
“My Childe.” A growl.
Although he knew it was true, Spike couldn’t, wouldn’t admit it to Angel. “Memory failing you, old man? I was sired by Drusilla in 1873.”
{Ah-h yes, the myth that I began and perpetuated.}
“I remember the night well.” Spike wasn’t going to back down. “Sitting in the street, I looked up, and there was this black goddess of a woman. It was a warm night with a ...”
“...slight breeze. The moon was full, low in the sky. The air smelled like jasmine.” Angel interrupted him. {Dru’s fantasy. Like the air in London ever smelled like jasmine.} Dru was always eager to please her Daddy. After being told that she should tell anyone who asked that she was William’s Sire, she promptly invented the whole event, complete with minute details. “Dru always did have a good imagination.”
“Fuck you!” Spike looked up at Angel with hate in his eyes. Memories of his ‘childhood’ began to flow through him. Memories that Spike had carefully locked away in a corner of his mind. Living with Druscilla for so many years, it had been easy to fall a bit into her madness, and believe the ‘easy’ truth. That truth erased all of young William’s emotional baggage: the longing, the hurt, the rejection, the abandonment. The years went by, and he became more and more liberated, so much so, that one hundred years later he would be able to meet his Sire with a cool detachment. “You never acknowledged me; you rejected and abandoned me. You have no claim to me anymore. And I refuse to recognize you as my Sire.” Spike spat these last words out at Angel.
Patience at an end. True face showing. Angel tightened his grip on Spike’s hands. “You’re so foolish Childe. Do you think that mere words can change who you are, who I am?”
But Spike was never one to go down without a fight. Trying to buck Angel off of him, he struggled to free his hands, but Angel had had enough. Shifting his weight, he easily pinned the smaller vampire. With one hand, he entwined his fingers in Spike’s hair, yanking up his head, and sinking fangs into the carotid artery. Draining him to the point where the younger vampire could only lay on the bed weakly, Angel bit into his own wrist, letting the blood flow. It was time to take control!
Spreading his Childe’s legs wide, Angel repositioned himself, and in one deft movement he sank himself into his Childe while at the same time pushing his bleeding wrist into the boy’s mouth.
Hating himself for being weak, but unable to resist, Spike latched on, sucking greedily. {I’m lost now. There’s no turning back.}
With slow, easy strokes, Angel coupled with his Childe, reveling in the feelings that flowed through him: lust, pleasure, dominance, control, and...love. But there was still one last thing that needed to be done. Abruptly he pulled himself out of his son. Nose to nose, he quietly began to ask the questions. “Who am I.”
Groaning, Spike felt the separation from his Sire. {Oh god, no. Please Sire. Don’t Stop!} Raising his hips to his Sire’s, he pushed up desperately, wanting more.
“Answer me!” A sharp command.
Trying to get his brain to work, Spike searched for answer. “My Sire.”
Growling, eyes flashing with anger, Angel dug his fingers into Spike’s scalp causing pain. “I’m your Father, Childe, and a Childe always belongs to the Father.”
“I belong to you.” Spike agreed.
Appeased, Angel shifted himself, merging his body again with his son’s. Afterwards, head on his Sire’s chest, his Sire’s arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, Spike could feel himself starting to fall into a deep sleep. Whether it was his own will or his Father’s will ‘pushing’ him to sleep, he didn’t know or care. Another whisper in his ear. “You’re home now Childe.”
~Part: 3~
The Brujah, the youthful rebels of the vampire world who adopt roles on the fringes of society, which today includes punks, bikers, and neo-Nazis.
The sun was setting when Spike awoke again finding himself alone. He felt great! No burning. No pain. No weakness. Sleep and his Sire’s blood, the cure-all for anything!
Without his Sire’s presence to muddy his thinking, he began to go over the events of last night and early this morning. His Sire’s gentleness last night had confused him. In the past, a session with Angelus usually consisted of being thrown over a table and fucked until he was bleeding and raw.
This was not the Angelus that Spike had known more than one hundred
years ago, nor was he the Angelus of two years ago. Which begged the question: what
the hell was going on?
Maybe this was some elaborate hoax that Soul-boy, and that cow, Alex had
dreamed up? Pretend that Angel had lost his soul? But for what purpose?
It didn’t add up, and it was giving him a bloody headache. Stomping
downstairs in the mansion he used to call home, he went in search for some
food. There had to be some captive humans around. No chip now meant that
he could finally taste human blood again. He was slightly surprised when
the thought of warm human blood did not elite the hunger he would have
thought, but instead a nauseous feeling. {Too much animal blood. Ruined
my digestive system.}
“Where’s the food?” He asked a female minion who quickly jumped up and
began to heat up...pig’s blood! “I’m not eating this shit.” Temper flaring,
he threw both mug and blood at the female’s face.
“Practice some self-control.” Spike’s elder brother had walked into
the kitchen.
“Sod off. Where’s the human blood, or better yet, where are the humans?”
“No hunting or killing. Father’s orders.”
“What kind of stupid directive is that. The old man must be losing it.”
Spike mumbled half to himself. {Fuck the order. I’ll just go out and do
a little hunting on my own. It’s been too long anyways.}
His brother must have read his face. “Don’t cross him today. He’s “You’re not to leave William.”
“Says who?”
A raised eyebrow. “The poison in you is dormant now because of your
Father’s blood, but any kind of trauma to the body could activate it again.
You need to stay inside out of danger. Are you listening to me?”
“Fuck off.” {Bloody interfering old bitch. Always meddling. Probably
making all this crap up just to make his life miserable.}
“William!” Alex tightened her grip on him. “This isn’t a joke. We’re
talking about your life here.”
“Get your bloody hands off of me.” Spike pushed her away. “And shut
the fuck up. I don’t want to listen to your lies anymore!”
“William!” Angel had heard the ruckus and had come to investigate. Instantly
Spike found himself backing down, an old habit. The mere presence of his
Sire always had that effect on him. The look on Angel’s face was not promising,
and Spike backed up a few steps, flinching, waiting for the blows. But
they never came.
Angry, but controlled, Angel stared at his Childe. “You *will* not leave
the mansion! Disobey me, and you’ll find yourself chained to the bed.”
{Yeah, right daddy.} Spike watched as the two elder vampires walked
away. {But I’ve never been very good at doing what I was told.}
**
The day had started out bad, and it was going down fast. It began with
bad news from New York. The Master there had refused Angelus entry, and
to fight his way in was unthinkable, not with this motley crew of Brujah
minions. They were now stuck here in Sunnydale indefinitely.
And then William. Within an hour of getting out of bed his Childe had
managed to bully a minion, insult his brother, and get into a fight with
Alex. Angel had forgotten how aggravating William could be at times.
But it hadn’t ended there. After disciplining his younger son, he was
greeted by news from some of his minions that a large, odd-looking demon
had stopped by, inquiring about their Master’s plans. Adam. Something would
have to be done about him, too.
And now this! A group of minions had come to him, arrogant and rebellious.
Their spokesperson was a young, male vampire, less than fifty years old.
These young ones, no respect for their elders. Ignorant really, as they
had no clue to his power.
“Master.” Not said submissively, but with a sullen touch of condescension.
“We don’t agree with your ban on hunting. If you’re so Growling, Angel grabbed the vampire, two hands on either side of his
head. “She’d stake you, before you’d even get a first punch in.”
“You think she’s so strong, but maybe it’s just you that’s so weak!”
Totally enraged at this blatant lack of respect, Angel tightened his
hands, and with a swift twist and a yank, tore the minion’s head right
off his shoulders. He watched the head and the body dissolve into dust
with satisfaction. Let this be a lesson to the others.
Shocked and frightened, the others cowered back against the wall. They
had never seen such a show of strength.
Standing hidden around a doorway, Spike watched with interest. All his
doubts regarding his Sire had been removed. The rage was pure Angelus.
No soul there.
With Angel’s attention diverted by the minions, Spike swiftly slid around
the corner, heading for a secret exit. He had used this exit two years
ago, when he had snuck out to find the Slayer. It was the perfect time,
as Alex had left for New York to plead Angel’s case to the Master there.
The only one left that he had to worry about was his dumb-ass brother,
but he was probably guarding the front door, and Spike had no plans to
go anywhere near the front door.
Originally he had planned to sneak out and go hunting, breaking two
rules, a sure bet to get his Sire to go through the roof, and maybe discover
what Angelus was up to. Spike couldn’t explain Angelus’ unusual behavior,
but figured that it probably was another one of his games. His Sire was
a master at inflicting wounds, physical and emotional. Case-in-point his
toying with the Slayer two years ago. This whole concerned father act was
probably just a set-up, and in a week or so, he find himself booted out
on the street, or worse yet, stripped of his status as Blood-Childe and
thrown in a corner somewhere.
But overhearing the news about Adam, Spike’s plans changed. The Slayer
hadn’t finished him off yet, which meant that all the Scoobies were right
now at Giles’ house, plotting and planning. Spike had an agreement with
the Slayer to help her with Adam, and he now planned to keep it. She would
be his ace-in-the-hole against Angelus, and he would need one. Angelus
allied with Alex and reunited with his oldest son, Djoser was a deadly
combination. Clearing the mansion’s grounds, Spike broke into a run heading
for the former Watcher’s house.
~Part: 4~
“Ma’am, your flight has been delayed because of fog. As soon as the
fog lifts at J.F.K., we will get you out on the first available flight.
And that‘s all I can tell you now.” The young woman behind the counter
said this to Alex with a touch of disdain masked by a false politeness,
giving Alex a strong urge to lean over the counter and rip the woman’s
tongue out. Defeated, Alex went back to sit down, briefly contemplating
following the woman when she went on break and killing her discreetly in
the bathroom. But no, she couldn’t take any risks at all. For William.
For the Clan.
Earlier in the month.
Victor, one of the precious Blood-Childer of the Tremere Clan had been
taken captive by the Watcher’s Council, but for the first few weeks no
one even knew he was missing. Victor was known for disappearing for weeks
at a time, usually because he was drunk on his ass somewhere. When they
finally realized that he was missing, the search began, but it was too
late. By then the Watcher’s Council had sent him home to his Father, a
blackened, living shell, insides melted away, body so hot to the touch
it burned.
For almost a year now rumors had been flying about in vampire circles
about a poison. A poison developed specifically for vampires. A poison
that killed. Vampires began dying in parts of Europe and now on the eastern
coast of the United States. No one in the Tremere Clan has been affected
by this tragedy yet. Until now.
They had managed to keep the Childe alive for more than a week. Rumor
had it that a pureblood vampire such as Anton, Victor’s father, was immune
to the poison, so they fed the Childe his Father’s blood. It did slow the
progress of the poison, but in hindsight Alex wondered if they had really
done Victor a favor. They had just prolonged his suffering. A couple of
times Alex seriously considered staking him, but Anton would not hear of
it, and no one was allowed to kill a Blood-Childe except the Childe’s Father
or the Master of the Clan. He finally died in his Father’s arm, trying
to pant for air that he didn’t need, his eyes screaming at them, his body
just bones with a charred, black skin covering.
Already knowing where Victor had been held prisoner, the grief-stricken
Father went on a rampage. With a group of highly competent minions, Anton
stormed the Council’s facility with only one objective, *revenge*. Alex
joined the vigilantes, but she had another objective besides revenge, she
sought information.
And she found him. A bearded man whose I.D. badge labeled him ‘Clinic
Director’. Knowing that pain was a great motivator, she began breaking
bones in his body.
“An antidote. Is there an antidote?”
“No antidote.” Teeth clenched in pain. “And there never will be one.
Once it enters the
system, the poison turns into a lethal substance that eats away the
insides of a vampire. No possible antidote.”
Leaning the man over the counter, Alex grabbed his head intending to
snap his neck, but knowing his fate, the man could not help but have one
final taunt for the vampiress.
“One of your prized Blood-Childer is already dead, and another one was
just recently poisoned. The bloodlines of the once mighty Tremere Clan
are being cut-off. Your Clan will cease to exist.”
{A valid threat.} “Who else has been poisoned?” Alex snarled at the
man, but he remained silent, now comprehending that in his arrogance he
had talked too much. So Alex motivated him some more, with a well placed
kick to the front of the knee, shattering the kneecap. Screaming the man
would have fallen, but Alex held him up easily. “ Between gasps of pain, he somehow answered her. “I-n California, a-a
military grou-p, co-olaborat-ing w-ith us, poi-soned the Ch-ilde never
marked, the o-one with t-he mis-nomer, Wil-liam the Blo-ody.”
{ His head spinning, knowing he would soon pass out, the man only shook
his head, smirking at the vampiress. It would be his only victory.
**
“...we need to get to him. He needs your blood!” Alex studied the souled
vampire sitting across the desk from her. She had never seen him since
he was cursed. Some years ago she had heard that he was in New York, and
had considered looking him up, mainly to have a good laugh, but decided
it wasn’t worth the effort. What goes around, comes around; Angelus had
gotten his just desserts.
Staring intently at a pencil in his hand, Angel just shook his head.
“Perhaps it’s for the best. He’s an uncontrollable killer. In good conscience
I can’t be part of trying to save him.”
Alex was outraged. “He became a killer to please his Father. He’s your
Childe, your Blood-Childe, and you would have him die a slow, tortuous
death? That soul of yours must have eaten away your brain.”
Angel closed his eyes as the guilt washed over him. Alex was right.
Spike had become a killer, because that’s what Angelus had always wanted.
“Go to Sunnydale and stake him then, but watch out. There’s a military
group there that specifically hunts and captures vampires and demons. There’s
also a powerful Slayer there. I would recommend that you don‘t anger her.”
Alex was speechless with fury. {Bloody, self-righteous hypocrite. Even
with a soul, he still couldn’t do right by William.} “As his Sire and Father,
you’re the only one who can legally kill him.”
“I do not think of myself as his Sire and Father anymore. And Spike
hasn’t acknowledged me in that way since we’ve met up again over two years
ago.” A fact which rather annoyed Angel, although he would not admit this
to anyone. Conflicting emotions warred through Angel. A part of him wanted
to rush to Sunnydale to rescue and protect his Childe, but his soul, his
soul kept telling him it was for the best. Wesley had been right; a part
of Angel wanted to die. The world would be better off with his death and
the death of his Childer.
“Who the hell cares what either of you think! We’re vampires, and we’re
bound by our laws and customs.” {Christ, Angelus with a soul was even more
contemptible than the old Angelus ever was! ...Angelus without a soul...}
Alex’s mind began to whirl. Would the old Angelus be so quick to just dismiss
William? Granted, he had physically and emotionally hurt William in more
ways than anyone could count, but even so, he had always been very protective
when it came to anyone else hurting his Childe. A logic that Alex never
understood, but being irrational was Angelus’ forte. Making up her mind
quickly, Alex stood up, taking a few steps backwards, concentrating hard.
{Gypsy curse. Child’s play, really.}
Still fighting with himself, Angel didn’t at first realize what she
was doing, until he looked up and saw her eyes flashing red. Hurdling over
his desk in one swift leap, Angel lunged for her. But he was too late,
as the majik flowed from her body hitting him in mid air causing him to
fall to the floor, body engulfed in pain.
Alex watched the prone figure carefully. Angelus always was an unpredictable
son-of-a-bitch. If he chose to attack her, she needed to be ready. Although
confident of her abilities, she knew from past experiences that Angelus
was a vicious, extremely strong fighter. One small miscalculation on her
part, and she would be dust, but to her great surprise, the vampire she
had known for years looked up at her, eyes shaded with sorrow with memories
from the past. “My Childe needs me, and I won’t fail him this time. Help
me save him. Help me to bring him home where he belongs.”
~Part: 5~
The Tremere Clan, the best organized of the vampires, manipulative,
intelligent, and aggressive. In my world, this is the Clan of Angelus,
Spike and Alex.
Buffy paced the room nervously. They had come up with a plan to destroy
Adam, by employing an Enjoining Spell. Willow, Giles, and Xander would
perform the ritual with Wesley standing guard against Adam’s minions, as
it was crucial that the spell not be interrupted. Buffy was fast changing
her opinion about her former Watcher; he now seemed quite competent, and
his attitude! From a pompous ass to quite a team player.
But still, Buffy would have liked another quote, unquote warrior to
guard her friends. If only Riley hadn’t fallen apart at the seams, but
after finding out that all his comrades and friends had been killed, he
had become quite despondent. He was now back home in Iowa, recovering and
hopefully finding himself. God...if only...Buffy was so desperate that
even Spike would look good now. As if she had the power to wish someone
there with her, Spike suddenly appeared in Giles’ doorway!
“Hey Chaps, help has arrived. So what’s the plan for Adam?”
Looking up from his book, Giles sighed. “Did no one ever teach you to
knock?”
“Wot for, when your door is always open?”
“Why are you here anyways? Didn’t you leave town with Angel?”
“Glitch in the travel plans, but don’t get your knickers in a bundle.”
Quickly looking over at Buffy. “Orders from the big Poof, himself. No hunting.
No killing. Doesn’t want to piss off the mighty Slayer.”Spike grinned widely
at Buffy.
{That didn’t sound like Angelus.} Buffy was puzzled.
Cordelia, always quick to notice one’s appearance. “What’s that funny
mark on your neck?”
Spike groaned to himself. Without a reflection, he had forgotten about
his ‘ Giles was studying the mark intently. “This is incredible. I’ve never
seen a vampire with such a mark before... the mark of a dhampir. Spike,
you never mentioned that you‘re...”
“Dee hamper! Dee hamper! What the hell is that?” Xander interrupted
Giles.
Spike, too was confused.{Dhampir? What the bloody hell was the watcher
talking about?}
“A dhampir is a child, born of a human mother, fathered by a vampire.
They’re very rare.”
“Didn’t you tell me that vampires are unable to father children?” Buffy
was stunned.
“Most can’t. But those that can trace their bloodlines to the original
vampire, Caine are able to reproduce.”
“Only some of them.” Spike corrected him. “And we’re called ‘Blood-Childer’,
not dhampirs.” {Dhampir, my ass. A made up human word.}
“Yes...yes...of course. That’s what makes dhampirs...ah, I mean Blood-Childer
so rare. And from what I’ve read they’re honored, cherished, protected,
because they are of the bloodline, and they represent the Clan’s future
hope that the bloodline will be continued.”
“Angel’s son.” Wesley, too was staring at Spike. “Born to him and then
turned by him.”
*Angel’s son!* Four pairs of jaws dropped.
“You don’t look anything like him.” Cordelia stopped filing her nails
long enough to give Spike a good once-over.
“Bloody hell.” Spike grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, and I say a prayer
to the vampire gods everyday thanking them for that.”
“Why did Angelus never mark you before? And nothing in the historical
records even hinted at such a relationship. In fact, many don’t even have
Angelus as your Sire.”
{They’re not going to be satisfied until I tell them the whole friggin’
story.} “Angelus was always ashamed of me; he never acknowledged me as
his Childe, let alone, his Blood-Childe.”
“So, Deadboy Junior, what kind of father-son bonding moments did you
have with dear old dad? A little catch in the backyard? Did he take you
to a ball game? Build you a tree house? Come on, spill. Inquiring minds
want to know.” Xander had gotten up and had walked over to Spike.
Spike resisted the urge to tear the boy’s throat out, since the Slayer
was standing only a few feet away. Now was not the time to piss her off,
since he might need a favor from her in the near future. “According to
our laws, vampire fathers have no contact with their Blood-Childer until
it’s time to go and claim them. I met daddy for the first time when he
came to turn me. But after I was turned, we had many bonding moments. Yeah,
daddy and I bonded all the time. He’d beat me almost everyday, except the
days when he locked me in a closet without food and forgot about me. Sometimes,
if I really pissed him off, he’d whip me until most of the flesh on my
back was gone. And when the old boy got randy, he’d throw me over a table
and bugger me for hours on end.” {There, that should shut them all up.}
It did. “Now, this conversation is beginning to bore me. Don’t we have
more important things to discuss, like destroying Adam?”
But Wesley still needed to have one more point cleared up. “Spike, you’ve
got poison in your system. Does Angel know that you’re here helping us?”
“I’m not a five-year-old. I don’t need...”
“He’s now marked you, and judging by his actions last night he wants
you safe and out of danger.” Wesley persisted.
“Listen you stupid git. My relationship with Angel is my business. You
humans should be jumping for joy that I’m here to help you with demonoid
boy.”
“If you were to get hurt, or killed while helping us, Angel will have
our...” Wesley was stopped short by a discreet jab to the ribs by Giles.
“You’re quite correct.” Looking at Spike. “None of this is our business.
And yes, we’re ecstatic that you’re here, willing to help us. Now let me
explain to you about the Enjoining Spell, oh, before I start, Wesley didn’t
you say you had a rare spell book back at you hotel room that we wanted
to cross-reference?”
{Hotel room?? I’m staying here with Rupert...} Comprehension dawned
quickly on Wesley. “Yes, of course, I’m right on it.” Grabbing his jacket,
he sprinted quickly out the door.
45 minutes later.
Laying on Giles’ couch, head and shoulders hanging over the couch’s
arm, Spike thought that his head would explode. He had always known that
Giles was a little bit of a windbag, but this was ridiculous! “Giles, I
don’t need to hear the whole friggin’ spell, word for word. I know what
I’m suppose to do, so let’s just get on with it.”
“Listen pea-brain.” Buffy understood that Giles was stalling. She didn’t
know why, but because it was Giles, she played along. “This is important.
You screw up something, and I will personally hunt you down and make you
hurt in ways you never imagined.”
“Yeah, you always did Forgetting herself, Buffy leaped up, grabbing Spike by his duster. “You
want to see me do something more than talk? Just say the word.” For some
reason Spike always seemed to bring out the worst in Buffy.
Pushing Buffy back and leaping to his feet, Spike, too forgot all good
intentions. “I always said that you and I would have another confrontation.
And there’s no time like the present.”
“Give it your best shot.” Buffy stepped closer to Spike, getting into
his face. Neither one of them was paying any notice to Giles who was desperately
trying to get their attention. Spike got the first good punch in, but his
second was blocked, as Buffy nailed him in the face with a right cross.
Spike’s head snapped back, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek.
Such a small wound really, nothing to even pay attention to. “Slayer.” He hissed at her. “The penalty for assaulting a Blood-Childe
is death by torture.” He then backhanded her with a casual viciousness
that sent her down to one knee. She rose quickly to defend herself, but
was taken by surprise when Spike got between them, pushing the other vampire
away.
“Sod off . The Slayer and I were just having ourselves a little warm-up
exercise.” Buffy and Spike had been so absorbed in their spat, that they
hadn’t noticed Wesley returning, followed by Angel and his eldest Blood-Childe,
Djoser.
“WILLIAM!” Angel was staring intently at Spike. He could smell his blood,
although he could see no apparent wounds. “Weren’t you told not to leave
the mansion?”
“Yes.” As annoying as Spike could be, he still was always one to fess-up
to any wrong doings.
“And you left anyways?”
Defensive and trying to hide the fact that he was in pain, Spike resorted
to being flippant. “Right mate, nothing like stating the obvious.”
Worry and anger collided inside Angel as he grabbed his insolent Childe,
wrapping two strong arms around him, pulling him up against his body. “You “Did you not hear Alex explain to you about being carefully, about what
could happen if you’re injured in any way?” Djoser was looking at Spike
like he was a complete moron.
“Ri-right. Like I’m going to listen to that cow. What the bloody hell
does she know about a experimental military poison?” Spike was wondering
if he could break out of Angel’s grasp, but the arms that held him were
strong, much stronger than Spike remembered.
“She killed one of the doctors who injected Victor with it. You do remember
Victor? They murdered him with this poison.” Angel spoke quietly in Spike’s
ear, and then much to Spike’s surprise Angel bent his head, nipping and
then licking the side of Spike’s neck.
{A warning?} But it didn’t feel like his Sire had done it out of anger.
The gesture did serve to make Spike relax his body against his Sire’s.
“Victor hasn’t been here in Sunnydale, so how could the Initiative poison
him?”
“Initiative? We’re talking about the Watcher’s Council.” Djoser didn’t
say it, but Spike could almost hear the word ‘idiot’ at the end of his
last sentence.
“Watcher’s Council?” Giles spoke up for the first time. “What does the
Watcher’s Council have to do with this?”
Angel, still studying his Childe closely, answered him. “They were the
ones that developed the poison. They were in collaboration with the Initiative,
probably served as consultants for them.”
{That made sense. That explained how the Initiative had so much knowledge
about demons and vampires.}
“But this is great news, Angel.” Wesley spoke up without thinking. “If
the Watcher’s Council developed the poison, then there are records. And
I still have a few contacts in the Council, maybe one of them will help
us.”
Human and vampire alike all turned to look at Wesley in amazement.
“Wesley.” Cordelia spoke to him like she was explaining to a small child.
“He’s not your boss anymore, so you can stop kissing up. Oh, and by the
way, he is the enemy now. You know, soulless...grrr.”
“I-I-I...” Wesley didn’t know what to say. It had just come out. He
had loved his old boss, and Angelus still looked like the souled Angel,
and it was hard to remember just who and what he was.
But Wesley had certainly caught Angel’s attention. {An ex-Watcher. An
honorable man. Plan B.} “Help me.” Angel looked at all the humans in the
room. “Help me, and I’ll repay you in ways that you couldn’t imagine.”
Seeing skepticism written on all their faces, he tried another angle. “Think
about it. And as a gesture of good faith, I’ll help you bring down Adam.”
Turning to Djoser. “The Watchers here will tell you what to do. Help them
and help the Slayer kill the demon.”
Djoser’s normal stoicism slipped a little at his Father’s command. {Help
humans! Help a Slayer!} “Sire, I...”
But it had been a long day for Angel, and he was tired of people questioning
and disobeying his commands. “*Do it!* And you better not fail, because
you won’t be allowed back home, until you bring me the demon’s head.”
~Part: 6~
The next day Spike woke again at twilight, chained by one ankle to the
bed with his Sire’s cum dried in his ass and on the inside of his thighs.
After leaving Giles’ house the night before, Angel had put him to bed,
literally.
Getting up from the bed, Spike tested the length of the chain. It was
long enough to allow him to move around a bit, but not long enough to make
it to the bathroom. “Stupid Bugger! How the hell does he expect me to take
a shower!” He grumbled to himself.
Pain was still radiating around in his jaw and face, but Spike was proud
of himself. Hadn’t let on at all, even when the big poof bit him last night
while climaxing. Couldn’t let his Sire see him in pain and weak Hearing footsteps in the hallway, Spike climbed back into bed. He could
also smell...blood...animal blood. Someone was coming with a meal, but
the smell only served to intensify the pain. {Fuck!} Spike fell backwards
on the pillows trying to control the pain, as it began to pound around
in his mouth causing his teeth to even hurt.
The bedroom door was opened by Angel, followed by a female minion carrying
a tray with a mug of warmed up pig’s blood. “Childe, you need to eat. I
was told you ate nothing yesterday.”
Spike pulled the blanket up, hiding his face. “Not hungry.”
Dismissing the minion, Angel studied the figure of his son thoughtfully.
{Something was wrong. Perhaps he needs human blood.} Quickly going downstairs,
Angel went to the front door where his only turned Childe in the household
was standing guard. “Ramose, go bring back a human, but make sure it’s
not an innocent human that will anger the Slayer, some criminal type. William
needs to feed on some human blood, so be quick about it.”
“Sire.” Ramose bowed his head briefly, stoic expression in place, before
swiftly taking off.
Staying at the front door, Angel watched his Childe clear the mansion’s
grounds. He wondered if ‘keeping a stoic expression’ had been part of Djoser’s
and Ramose’s human training, as both of them rarely showed any expression
at all. They had been raised together as humans, trained like their human
ancestors to be warriors. Ramose had been a gift to the Nightwalker, Angelus
when he had returned to claim his Blood-Childe, Djoser. He turned both
together, making the bond between them even stronger. As human warriors
they had been dangerous, as vampires they were lethal. They made a deadly
pair!
Waiting by the door, Angel stood guard since he didn’t trust any of
the minions. They were a useless group. They gave him numbers, and a few
of them had strength, but they had had no guidance, so they were unskilled
and undisciplined as fighters. Scanning the grounds, Angel saw a tall figure
come into sight. Djoser! And he was carrying Adam’s head! One problem solved!
**
Spike discovered that if he lay perfectly still, the pain seemed to
dissipate somewhat, although he was starting to feel a burning inside of
him. To distract himself, he began to contemplate everything that had happened
in the last two days. It seemed that Alex had told him the truth about
the effects of the poison. He needed to be careful in the future. But And now this meant that he truly was dependent on his Sire for...for
everything. Food. Protection. And a fucking solution to this mess! Guess
he would have to try and behave himself, try not to aggravate his Wanker
of a Sire. {Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen.}
And what was with his Sire! His disobedience last night should have
earned him at least a beating with a brutal fuck to top it off. Poison,
notwithstanding, (Angelus never let little details like that stand in his
way), he had not been beat, fucked yes, rougher than the first time, but
not anything close to the brutality that Angelus was capable of. No hot
pokers up his ass, nor any sharp objects pierced through his genitals.
And since when did Angelus start checking to see if he had eaten or
not? His Sire’s Jekyl and Hyde personality was really starting to get on
his nerves. Just who the fuck was he? Soul-Wuss or the real Angelus? Maybe
that stupid bint Alex had mucked up the spell. Didn’t desoul him completely.
{Was that possible?}
Spike’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted as his vampiric hearing detected
a heartbeat. {A human? Christ, it better not be that boot-licker Wesley.
That’s all I need. Another person toadying all over the Great Poof.} But
his keen sense of smell soon put that notion to rest. This human smelled
like sweat and urine. The smell began to overpower him, turning his stomach,
making the pain flare up again.
Angel entered the bedroom first, followed by Ramose who was holding
a scraggly, biker-type human. His jeans were soaked in front with urine.
Ramose had had a little fun with the man while returning to the mansion.
“Childe, a human. Human blood for you.” Morphing, Angel grabbed the
man by his hair, biting into him. Opening up the artery, he let the blood
flow. Its odor should entice his Childe to eat.
With vampires, the smell of blood should overpower any other scents
in the area. Spike could smell the blood, but he also could still smell
the human’s stench. The combination of blood, urine and human body odor
was making the pain intensify to such a degree that Spike was sure he was
going to heave. Half falling out of bed onto the floor, Spike, painfully
crawled over to a corner, knees against his chest, head down on his knees,
trying desperately not to be sick all over the floor.
Sensing his Childe’s anguish, Angel swiftly went over to him, while
ordering Ramose away. “Take the human and hang him by his feet in the downstairs
bathroom. Make sure no one touches him. He is to be saved for William.”
Laying his hands on Spike’s shoulders he was shocked at the heat that radiated
from his Childe’s skin.
“William! Look at me! What’s wrong with you?” Getting no response, he
pulled his Childe’s head back. Spike’s eyes were rolled back into his head,
skin hot to the touch, and his chest was rapidly heaving up and down, as
he tried to pant for unneeded air. Panicking, Angel remembered Alex’s description
of Victor as he lay dying. {Blood. My blood. My blood is the key.} Ripping
his shirt open, for once not caring that the buttons flew all over the
floor, he reopened the same vein from two nights ago. Cradling his Childe
in his arms, he guided Spike’s head to his breast. Still getting no response,
Angel switched arms, pushing Spike’s head against his chest with his left
hand while opening his son’s mouth with the right. The blood slowly began
trickling into Spike’s mouth. {Come on Childe, drink, damn you! Drink!}
What seemed liked eternity, but in reality was perhaps only a few minutes,
enough of Angel’s blood dripped into Spike’s mouth and down his throat.
Enough to arouse him so that instinct could take over, and he began to
suckle on his own.
Greatly relieved, Angel held his Childe tighter, rocking him gently.
~Part: 7~
In my alternate universe, Angelus was never Irish; I need to do this
for plot purposes. But I do picture Angelus as living as an upper classman;
that's why Spike has such thoughts about speaking only proper English,
and that his childhood dialect was forbidden.
The Gangel, the rootless wanderers, forever moving about and surviving
by their wits.
For the umpteenth time Angel went to check on his sleeping Childe. Running
his hand lightly down his son’s face, he assured himself that William was
really alright. His skin was now cool to the touch, and he was no longer
breathing.
Angel had held his son to his breast the whole night, not daring to
let himself sleep. Every time that William had stirred, even just a little,
Angel had held his Childe’s head to the bleeding gash in his chest, forcing
his son to drink more of his blood. He rationalized that if his blood could
overcome the poison, than the more the better.
Watching his son sleep, Angel was in a quandary. He didn’t want to leave
William, but he needed to go see Wesley. Alex had called from New York.
The Master there was now willing to grant him an audience. It hadn’t been
hard to stall Alex, as Angel just told her the truth. William was too sick
to travel to New York right now.
But he needed to make a decision soon. A few days ago, his only goal
had been to get to New York, to the Master, to the Clan, but now after
careful deliberation he wasn’t so sure. He was sure that Alex’s intentions
were sincere, but that didn’t mean that the Master was of the same opinion.
He didn’t trust the Master. But he did trust the two former Watchers. He
was pretty confident that he could talk Wesley into helping them. But Giles
was another story. Would Wesley alone, without the assistance of Giles
be able to help them? Or would he be better served to forget the mortals
and concentrate on trying to get aid from his own kind? He couldn’t delay
making a decision. The window to the Master was slim, if he didn’t show
up within the next few days, the Master would change his mind.
Feeling torn, Angel woke his eldest son. He would have Djoser watch
over William. Nothing should happen to the Childe with his older brother
guarding him. “Djoser, wake-up. I need to go and talk to the Watchers.
You will Done giving instructions, Angel left the room. But he could not shake
the feeling of foreboding that clung to him.
**
Spike awoke shortly after Angelus had left. The blood of his Sire still
coated his mouth and tongue. Ambrosia! Feeling no pain, Spike sat up, looking
around for his Sire. Not seeing him, nor detecting his scent, Spike began
to panic. Deja vu, as the memory of Angelus’ abandonment flowed through
him. His brother’s presence did not reassure him at all. “Where’s our Father?”
Djoser, who had been reading looked up in surprise. His younger sibling
referred to their Father with many different names, and Father was not
usually one of them. But seeing his brother’s alarm, Djoser refrained from
answering in any kind of sarcastic manner. “He went to go see the Watchers.
He’ll be back later.”
Slightly comforted, Spike scowled at his older brother. “Watchers? Wot’s
he want with those two sods?”
“Their help.”
Spike snorted. “He’s asking the wrong people. The Slayer is the queen
bee around here. Those two Nancyboys won’t do anything, unless the Slayer
approves.” {And our Sire won’t ever go to the Slayer.} Spike had heard
the talk. Xander couldn’t keep his mouth shut about anything, and his girl
friend Anya wasn’t any better. It seems that the two ex-love birds had
done a complete 180. Buffy had paid Angel a visit in L.A., and from what
Spike could gather, there had been some major fireworks. His Sire then
had followed the Slayer back to Sunnydale, where he ended up in a brawl
with her G.I. Joe boyfriend. Spike would have given anything to see that.
Although at that time, he would have been hard pressed to know who to root
for.
Djoser looked unconcerned. “We don’t need the Slayer, or any of her
human allies. The Master in New York has agreed to see us.”
Spike began to feel nauseous again. He Djoser was being swayed by his younger brother’s arguments. He’s was
a proud man, proud of his lineage, proud of his Father. Seeing his brother’s
wavering, Spike continued his case. “Take me to the Slayer. It’s Friday;
she’ll be at a place called The Bronze in a few hours. Let me talk to her.”
“You’re not to leave here. And why would the Slayer help you?”
“Oh, the Slayer owes me a couple of favors.” Spike lied through his
teeth. Actually he had no idea how he was going to convince the Slayer
to help them, but figured he’d wing it when he got there.
Still undecided, Djoser stared at his brother trying to determine what
he was up to. But William had changed a lot in the last century. He now
knew how to hide his emotions. But his brother’s arguments had validity.
Not to mention the fact that Djoser remembered that the former Master had
sentenced William to death. Djoser had not questioned his Father’s decision,
but had wondered why Angelus was so sure that the present Master and the
Clan would be willing to save William.
Spike sensing victory, quickly argued his last point. “Look mate. After
last night, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll run like a true ponce if I see
any trouble. Bring Ramose with us. With you two bad boys watching over
me, what could possibly happen?”
~Part: 8~
1885
PAIN! Horrible black pain that consumed his whole body.
VOICES. Voices that floated above him.
“Perhaps he may live, but chances are, he won’t. Stake him, and we can
go back to the Master. We could still possibly undo this whole disaster.
Make it right again with our Father.”
“NO! The Master has now been cursed, cursed to forever be below ground.
He’s not going to forgive or forget that.”
“That was Alexandra’s doing. We’ll put the blame on her. The Master
never liked her much anyways.”
“NO! We’ll feed him my blood. That should....” The voices faded as he
fell back into darkness.
**
William sat up in his little attic room horribly confused. He was in
a different house, a different room, his body covered with fresh scars,
and he couldn’t remember what had happened to him! It was like someone
had gone in and erased part of his memory. He was told that he had been
captured and tortured by a group of Gangrel vampires who had wandered in
the area. But that made no sense to him. Gangrel vampires would not attack
a Tremere vampire. They would not risk retribution by one of the most powerful
clans in existence.
Images floated in his head. A large room filled with vampires. A beautiful
blond woman smirking at him maliciously. A tall lean man standing over
him, mouth open screaming, but William couldn’t hear the words. And PAIN...he
tried to capture the memories, but they remained elusive. The harder he
tried to remember, the more his head ached.
Hearing footsteps he hoped it was food. About once a day a minion would
come up with a small bowl of blood. It wasn’t enough, but William didn’t
want to risk going downstairs. Still weak, if Penn or Lucien decided to
have a go at him, he wouldn’t be able to fight them off. And vampires,
predators that they were, could always sense weakness.
The door swung open, but instead of a minion, stood a fair man with
the mark of a Blood-Childe. “Hey mate, feelin’ better yet, then, eh? Uhh...nice
room yer got 'ere.”
He looked around in shock.
Speechless William stared at the visitor. He was speaking English, and
not that fancy, prissy English that everyone had to speak in Angelus’ presence.
“Name’s Victor. Childe of Anton.” The man sat down on the floor next
to William. “Wot a bugger yor ol’ man is. Makin' yer sleep 'ere.”
{Old man?} For years now, Angelus had decreed that William was to be
known as the Childe of Drusilla, Angelus’ consort. “This room fits my status.”
Not a Childe of the Master, William’s status in the household was just
one step above the minions.
“Fuck. Yer dinnah need ter pretend wiv me. I know 'oo yer are. Childe
of the Bloodline, like I am. It’s a pisser sometimes. Can’t do wot yer
want. Got blokes wotchin' over you all the time. More of a pisser for yer,
since yor ole man is crazier than mine.”
Still totally confused, but feeling like he had found a soul mate, William
couldn’t help but grin at his new visitor. Victor was speaking the English
of William’s past. An English that was now forbidden, but William couldn’t
resist and he too reverted back to his old, familiar vernacular. “How do
yer know about me, eh? Angelus keeps it a big secret from evryone.”
“Why I were at yor presenta...” Victor stopped abruptly, as William
looked at him curiously. Then Victor grinned at him. “Yer know mate. Yer
and I are 'ome now. Feelin' well enough ter have a few at a genuine English
pub?”
{Home? When did we come to England?} William knew he had been unconscious
for a time, but this was ridiculous! “We’re really back in England?”
“The bloody one and only.”
“Yer were born 'ere too?”
“Me mum were English, just like yors. Now, if yer’re feelin' up ter
it, I tink I found where we can sneak out of 'ere, so no one will spot
us. And we can make the rounds, right, mate, yer and me.”
**
William would never forget the short time he spent with Victor. It was
probably the one and only time he had ‘fun’ in his entire human or vampire
existence. Victor was in his element in the pubs, singing, dancing, dancing
on the tables; he entertained everyone there. He also showed William how
to feed a little on the humans without anyone being the wiser. Pretend
to help one of the humans when they were on the verge of passing out or
falling down. Feed on them a little, but don’t drain them, because then
who would you drink with the next night?
The two young vampires enjoyed themselves so much, that they lost track
of time. With the sun up, they ended up sleeping over at the pub, and when
the sun set again they just continued the party. So it was almost two days
later before they made their way back home again. Arriving, they were met
by two very angry Fathers.
Victor was dragged off quickly by his Father who, although irate, was
somewhat relieved that nothing had happened to his youngest Childe. Victor
was known for sneaking out against his Father’s wishes, but that wasn’t
what infuriated Anton so. Victor insisted on going and getting inebriated
with humans, putting him in a very vulnerable position. How easy it would
be for a human to stake him when he was falling down drunk! A Blood-Childe
such as him should not be taking such risks. Unrepentant, Victor could
not resist giving William a wink as he was led away to face his punishment.
Alone, William stood defiantly before his Sire.
“How dare you leave without permission.” Angelus advanced slowly, toying
with his prey.
Spirits still running through his veins, and some of Victor’s rebellious
attitude sticking to him, William wasn’t going to back down. “I admit that
I left without permission, but I’ll take it up with A Master rarely dealt with the Childer of other household members. It
was the responsibility of a Sire to discipline a Childe. He then began
to walk past Angelus who now was beyond furious. Grabbing William by his
arm, he wrenched hard, dislocating it. Throwing William over a nearby table,
he yelled orders to a group of minions. Two came and held William down,
while another one brought the Master his cat-o’-nine-tails. Ripping William’s
shirt off, he proceeded to beat his Childe mercilessly.
William had been beaten many times before, but this time it was different.
Angelus didn’t stop until William’s back was a bloody mess, flesh almost
completely gone. He was then thrown upstairs to his little attic room to
suffer alone.
**
William lay on the floor, since he was not given a bed, his back on
fire, his arm throbbing, blood running from his nose and mouth. As the
door swung open, he hoped and prayed that it wasn’t Angelus coming back
to dish out more punishment, or Penn and Lucien who literally liked to
rub salt in his wounds. But for once his prayers were answered as it was
Victor again who stood in his doorway. This time he held a bowl with food
in it for William. Only Victor would dare to bring food to William against
Angelus’ orders.
“Cor, wot did the bleedin' old fucker do ter yer, then, eh? Christ,
Will yor ole man is a real nutter. Here, got sumting for yer. It’s just
wot the bloody doctor ordered.” Victor then pulled out a silver flask,
and proceeded to pour a healthy amount of gin into the blood he had brought
for William. Holding it to William’s mouth, he helped his cousin drink
the blood concoction. “I’m gonna find a way ter leave me Sire. Dinnah wanna
live under 'is thumb anymore. Wen I do, I’ll come find yer. We’ll drink
our way across Europe. And wen we’re done, right, we’ll go ter the Colonies
and drink our way across them, too.”
Finishing the blood and gin mixture, William lay his head down, feeling
very tired. Victor sat down on the floor, drinking the rest of the gin
and regaling William with the time he had snuck away and had partied at
Oktoberfest. It would be the last time the cousins would ever be together.
~Part: 9~
Romania 1898
Sitting in the window staring outside, William contemplated his future.
For the last twelve plus years, his life had gone from bad to worse. Angelus
had become crueler and even more abusive toward his youngest Childe. William
kept trying to screw up the courage to either leave or take a walk into
the sunlight, but lacking the nerve he still hadn’t been able to do either.
But now something had happened. He had received a message from Victor.
According to Victor he was emancipated now, and he had kept his word and
had come for William. He would wait for Will tonight only at the local
pub.
William found it difficult to believe that Victor was truly emancipated.
Blood-Childer were too rare to be left on their own, without guidance and
protection. Most probably he had just run away again, and it wouldn’t be
long before Anton showed up to claim his wayward Childe. But even so, William
decided to go with his cousin. A few days of having ‘ He would still have to follow protocol and formally request and be granted
permission to leave by his Sire. Making his way to the Master’s bedroom,
William wondered if Victor had been watching the house, and had waited
until Angelus left before sending his message. Because Victor’s timing
was perfect, since just earlier Angelus had been called away. Threatening
some minions with bodily harm, William had found out from them that Angelus
had been summoned by his maternal Sire, Darla.
{Darla?} William found that to be very puzzling, because as far as he
could ascertain Angelus had been ostracized from the Clan for some years
now. He knew no more, since he was always kept in the dark about everything,
and the whole subject was very taboo; anyone caught discussing it would
be severely punished.
Receiving permission to enter, William found the Master’s consort, Drusilla
dancing around the room, whispering to her dolls. Briefly kneeling before
her, he made his formal request. “My Sire, I humbly beg your permission
to leave our home. I feel the time is right for me to be granted my independence.”
Drusilla stopped her twirling, looking at William with large eyes. “Miss
Edith says that the moon isn’t as high as it used to be. It’s slowly falling.
When it falls...”
Standing up slowly, William shifted from one foot to the other, listening
to Drusilla’s rambling with half an ear. He’d wait a respectable amount
of time, and then leave. Whatever she was saying sounded close enough to
granting him permission. Waiting another few minutes, he knelt again, interrupting
her. “Sire, you will not regret your decision. I will forever honor you
as my Sire and Creator. I will not be an embarrassment to your name.” Formalities
done, William did a fast exit, not hearing Drusilla’s final words to him.
“Daddy doesn’t want you to go. Daddy will never let you go.”
Throwing his meager possessions in a pillow covering, William decided
to go out a side door. Technically he could leave freely, but still he
didn’t want to tempt fate. Angelus wasn’t here, but Djoser was. Minions
might buy that he had his Sire’s blessing to leave, but Djoser certainly
wouldn’t. Circling around the stables, William’s cursed luck stayed true
to form, as he ran right into Angelus who was just stepping out of his
carriage. Surprised, William came to an abrupt halt. Mind racing, he knew
he couldn’t say he was just taking a stroll around the grounds. The pillow
covering was a dead give away.
“Boy! Where do you think you’re going?”
Pushing down his fear, William decided that this time he wasn’t going
to back down. “ Dismissing the minions who were watching the scene unfold with total
fascination, Angelus stared at William with dark, penetrating eyes. “I
am the Master here. No one leaves without my permission.”
{Bloody hell! According to him, I’m not his Childe, but he sure watches
my every move.}
“Our law states that a Sire’s permission is all that is required.” William
insisted stubbornly.
Angelus remained silent, eyes darkening with rage.
Throwing down the pillow covering, William readied himself. He was going
to fight back this time. Fight back so hard that Angelus would be forced
to kill him. Although slight of built, William’s body was tough from all
the beatings he had endured. He also was a skilled fighter, having to routinely
defend himself against Angelus’ other Childer, especially those who knew
the truth about him. Quick and agile, William figured he’d be able to give
his Sire a decent fight, before being overwhelmed by Angelus’ superior
strength.
Unfortunately William failed to take in consideration that he was dealing
with a master manipulator. Angelus, reading his Childe’s body language
and sensing his determination, reversed his plan of attack. Advancing on
William, he let his son score a few punches, before grabbing the younger
vampire by the front of the shirt. Pulling William up against himself,
he plundered his Childe’s mouth with his own, biting his own tongue so
that his son could taste his blood. A Childe could not resist his Father’s
blood!
Shock and surprise rendered William immobile, and then the taste of
his Father’s blood rendered him helpless. Feeling his son’s body relax
against him, Angelus knew that he had won. His Childe’s slim form pressed
up against him, Angelus felt a stirring in his loins. It had been too long!
Swinging William up easily into his arms, he began making his way to the
bedroom.
**
But Angelus never came back. The next memory William had was being awaken
by his brother Djoser, asking him if he knew where the Master had gone.
Angelus never came back that night or the next. They waited every night
hoping he would return. Djoser organized search parties, and they were
able to track him to a Gypsy camp, but there the trail ended. They could
not pick up any more of his scent.
At first Drusilla had been in hysterics, screaming continually that
her daddy was no longer her daddy. No one understood what she meant. Days
later she calmed down to almost a trance. Stroking her doll’s head, she
kept repeating over and over that daddy was gone and would never be coming
back.
Almost two weeks went by without any sign of the Master. Desperate,
Djoser finally decided to go and seek out his Father’s maternal Sire, Darla.
The night he disappeared Angelus had gone to see her. Returning hours later,
grim-faced and tight-lipped, he ordered that the household be disbanded.
The Master would not be returning, and he, the Master’s Blood-Childe would
not take charge of any of them. He and Ramose would be returning to their
birth country.
Left with Drusilla, because no one else would take her with them, William
sat in the window looking out. He had gotten what he wished for; he was
free. But watching his brother leave, he couldn’t help but feel a total
sense of abandonment.
~Part: 10~
Eyes burning, Wesley stopped a moment to rub them. He had been doing
research for more than a day now. The spell had worked; Adam was now dead.
But their victorious spirit was short-lived, as they shortly realized that
they had another problem to worry about. Djoser.
He had obeyed Angelus’ order to help them. And help them, he did. With
an efficiency that scared them all, he had dispatched Adam’s minions like
they were toddlers. Afterwards, without even discussing it, the group knew
that they needed to find out any and all information about this dangerous
vampire.
The current text that Wesley was trying to decipher was supposedly a
translation of a historical piece written by a vampire! First, Wesley had
a hard time picturing any vampire sitting down and recording historical
chronicles of vampires. Second, even if one did, how did a human translate
the works. As far as Wesley knew, no human ever spoke or read the vampire’s
ancient language. Nowadays one could hardly find a vampire who could remember
the old language. So intent was Wesley on the book in front of him that
he never noticed the tall figure with the duster over his head come noiselessly
through the door.
“Interested in my off-spring, Wesley?” That familiar quiet voice made
Wesley jump. Startled he looked up to see Angel studying an open text close
by him.
Feeling like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Wesley
stammered and stuttered. “Well yes...after seeing him...he was quite efficient
with Adam’s minions, so we were...curious about him.”
“More than curious, I’m guessing.” Angel looked over the pile of books
that were all laying either open or closed with pages marked.
Wesley decided that the best defense was simple honesty. “He makes fascinating
reading. And I’m getting the impression here that he’s his father’s son
from his looks to his capacity for viciousness and violence.”
“Oh he is the perfect son. An obedient, loyal, brutal killer. I couldn’t
have asked for more. Of course, the gods did have to even the scales for
me by giving me a second son such as William. Djoser has never given me
a moment’s trouble, while William has given me nothing but trouble.”
For a brief moment Wesley wondered if he was losing his mind, sitting
here discussing Angelus’ sons like they were just two average American
college kids. Not sure how he should respond, Wesley wondered if perhaps
he should ask him how they were doing in school?
But Angel was no longer interested in discussing his Childer. “Wesley,
I’ve kept my promises. What more do I need to do to persuade you to help
me?”
Blinking, Wesley thought that Angel’s tone changed on that last question,
but then dismissed it as his imagination. “I help you cure Spike, and then...?
“Whatever you desire.”
{OK I didn’t imagine it.} “Whatever I desire? You mean money, fame,
power...”
“Look into your heart, Wesley. What is it that you most long for?” Angel
had stood up and was leaning close to Wesley.
Swallowing hard, Wesley now knew how Faust felt when the devil was bargaining
for his soul. Standing up quickly, he moved to put some distance between
himself and his former employer. “I want...I want to continue the fight
against evil, against the demons that roam the earth.” The words
were no sooner out of his mouth, then Wesley realized how ridiculous they
sounded. Talking about fighting evil and demons to one of the most evil
demons that had ever walked this earth.
“We’ll go back to L.A.... “And what about Spike? Djoser?”
“They’ll fight with us. Imagine Wesley, three vampires on your team.”
{My team? Didn‘t he tell me not too long ago that our relationship was
one of strictly employer/employee. } “Those two killers will fight against
evil? ” Wesley couldn’t hide his disbelief.
“They will do what I say. I am their Father.”
“Ah yes. I saw how Spike obeys your every command.”
That did make Angel pause for a moment. “William has been running wild
for over a century now. I admit that I need to rein him in again. With
his weakened condition, my options are limited. But once he is cured, believe
me I will bring him back in line.”
“Bring him back in line? How pray, do you bring him back in line?”
‘We’re vampires, Wesley. You’ve studied our kind long enough. I don’t
think I need to draw you a picture, do I?”
“So I’m suppose to help find a cure for him, so that you then can break
him into submission?” Wesley was outraged.
Angel smirked at him. “He’s an evil vampire. If I must dominate him,
so that he’ll help you in your crusade against evil, why should you care?
...I'll keep my word to you, but don‘t ever think about interfering with
what I do with my family. That part of my life is none of your business.”
{Yes, why indeed should I care?} But Wesley did care. It was somehow
so wrong. So twisted. So perverted. So unAngel. {Of course, it’s very unAngel
like, because he’s not Angel. He’s souless now. He’s...} A thought quickly
crossed into Wesley’s mind. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you, but I have some
conditions of my own. Once Spike is cured; you must agree to allow yourself
to be resouled again. And your two sons must also allow themselves to be
souled. And to prove your trustworthiness, let us soul Djoser now.” {There,
that should take care of the Djoser problem.}
Angel remained silent, face unreadable. Wesley held his breath waiting.
Finally Angel responded. “I will agree to your demands, but only after
I hear that Rupert and the Slayer will help in my cause too. And then I
want to see some tangible evidence that any of you can even do anything
about William’s condition.”
“Agreed.” Wesley silently breathed a sign of relief.
“But Wesley. Are you sure that’s what you want? As my souled self, I
took a vow not to bed any more humans. You know, after that whole Slayer
incident. But soulless I have no such compunctions.” Angel’s voice had
lowered to almost a whisper.
Swallowing hard, Wesley wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed
when Giles came through the door.
Half-conscious William could still feel when his Sire left the bed,
as a great emptiness engulfed him. Trying to arouse himself, William had
to speak to Angelus before he left, but the need to sleep was overwhelming
him. Before William lost total consciousness, he felt a cool hand on his
forehead, and heard a quiet voice above him. “I’m going to get something
to eat. I’ll be back soon.”