"Cordelia?" Angel called pleadingly as the brunette left his bedroom. He strained against the multitude of chains holding him pinned to the bed. He raised his voice and tried calling to his other coworker. "Wesley?"
 

When neither of them returned, Angel sighed. He understood why they left him chained up, but it wasn't his fault. It was the drug that had been slipped into his drink by Rebecca. Technically, that made it her fault.
 

Yeah, right, said his conscience. She wouldn't have gotten a chance to do that if he would've stuck to his guns and made her contact the police. It was a good thing that no one had really gotten hurt. If someone had...
 

Angel suddenly gasped in horror, his eyes darting to the closed bathroom door. "CORDELIA!" he shouted as he began struggling violently against his bonds. "WESLEY!"
 

Both his coworkers came rushing into the room, panic in their expressions caused by the panic from his shouting. "Angel, what is it?" Wesley asked quickly.
 

"Get me out of these," Angel ordered, a wild look in his eyes. He could feel the skin on his wrists tearing as continued to try and get free. "Now!"
 

Cordelia's demeanor changed instantly. "Ha! Yeah right," she told him. "I don't think-"
 

"NOW!!!" Angel bellowed at them.
 

"Cordelia, get the crossbow," Wesley instructed calmly as he removed a ring of keys from his pocket. He waited until Cordelia returned, stood at the end of the bed and aimed the weapon right at Angel's chest before moving to unlock the various padlocks.
 

"Hurry," Angel said, his voice tight with unnamed emotion.
 

"What's the big rush, Angel?" Cordelia asked, the loaded crossbow unwavering in her hands. "Did you forget to add the fabric softener?"
 

Angel felt the chains loosen as the fourth lock was undone and, uncaring of injuring himself, he struggled until his body free from them. Wesley pulled a stake from his back pocket as he backed away, but the dark-haired vampire ignored him. Angel fell off the bed in his haste and scrambled forward like an animal until he found his balance.
 

The dark-haired vampire rushed around Cordelia and almost broke down the bathroom door in his rush to open it. He hit the lights and let out strangled cry when he caught sight of Spike's body on the bathroom floor. He dropped to his knees beside his Childe and put his hand on the back of the blond's head.
 

"Angel, what are- oh my god!" Cordelia gasped.
 

"Get out," Angel told her hoarsely.
 

"But who-"
 

"GET OUT!" Angel screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at her. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!"
 

Cordelia turned and hurried away, revealing Wesley, who had been standing behind her. He glanced at the body on the floor, gave Angel a cold, hard look, then turned and silently walked away.
 

Angel pressed his hand over his mouth to try and hold back a sob. His eyes returned to Spike's mutilated body and he had to press his hand firmer over his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting all over the place.
 

What he'd done to Spike under the influence of the drug was not a form of dominance. It had been torture. Pure, unfettered torture.
 

Angel sucked in several large gulps of air as he raised his blurry eyes to the ceiling. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he gasped roughly. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
 

The dark-haired vampire managed to pull himself back together after a few minutes, but his hands visibly shook as he started to remove the nails from Spike's back. Angel clenched his jaw tightly when he saw Spike's smashed testicles, his protective sac an ugly purple in color and swollen, undoubtably filled with blood from the injury.
 

Angel blinked back his tears and yanked the nail-setter and the chisel from the backs of Spike's knees. Then, he stood and quickly walked into the other room to get the handcuff keys from the weapon's cabinet. He had a hard time not collapsing into a puddle of remorse and guilt when he returned to the bathroom and laid his eyes on Spike's inert form again.
 

Spike's arms fell bonelessly to his sides after Angel unlocked the handcuffs. The only good news that brought was that Spike was still unconscious and thus feeling no pain.
 

Angel gingerly took hold of the short pike next and unscrewed the handle. The type of weapon was normally removed by yanking back on it, the barbs on the end ripping an opponent's body apart as the action was performed. The removable handle was actually a feature added on later by a Prince who'd accidentally skewered his bride-to-be. The Prince had to saw off the handle in order to pull the pike through his love's body, leaving a small, straightforward wound rather than tearing her entirely apart.
 

The dark-haired vampire was never more glad for the Prince's change in the weapon than he was right then. He dropped the detached handle to the ground and reached up behind him for the towel on the shower door. Gently, he draped it over Spike's bleeding back and as much of the blond's lower body as Angel could before he carefully rolled his Childe.
 

Angel managed to grab the small garbage can before he threw up.
 

His lower jaw trembled as he set the garbage can aside and grabbed a hold of the short pike imbedded in Spike's chest, purposely keeping his eyes away from his Childe's messed-up face. The pike came free of the younger vampire's body with a sickening slurp and blood flowed freely from the hole in Spike's abdomen and the wounds the barbs had made.
 

Angel choked back a sob, the guilt and horror gnawing at him because of what he'd done. The short pike made a loud clang as it hit the tiled floor and it echoed like a cell door slamming -- his cell door in hell. Spike may have been his plaything and he may have been violent with his Childe on occasion, but this was beyond excusable.
 

The dark-haired vampire's blunt fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, drawing half-moons of blood. He purposely bit his tongue to hold back the wave of nausea and tears as he forced himself to look upon Spike's face. A pain-filled whimper came from deep within Angel's chest when he saw Spike's sightless, yellow eyes, which had already started to shrivel from lack of moisture.
 

Angel shuddered once before he made himself attend to Spike's face. He tried to pull out the staple holding Spike's left eyelid open with his fingers, but the staple was anchored too well and his fingernails were too short. He looked around frantically, his nerves starting to unravel, hoping to find something to aid him.
 

Angel let out a bark of laughter bordering on hysteria when he spotted the needle-nose pliers. He scooped them up and used them to pry the staples from Spike's face, starting with the younger man's eyelids before moving onto the grim line over his mouth.
 

When the last staple was free, Angel did not hesitate to gather the unconscious form to him. He held Spike tightly for several moments, unconsciously rocking back and forth as the tears coursed down his face. His voice was barely a harsh whisper as he repeated, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
 

The smell of blood was what brought him out of his guilt-induced crying. It was growing stronger, and Angel realized that he still needed to bandage Spike's injuries.
 

Very gently, Angel lowered Spike back onto the towel. The dark-haired vampire wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and stood to retrieve the first aid kit and a wet washcloth.
 

The first thing he did was lift each of Spike's eyelids and dribble water over the dull surfaces. If Spike wasn't a vampire, he more than likely would be blind. As it was, Angel wasn't sure how well a vampire's eyes healed from being dried out. It had been at least two hours since he'd... since he'd...
 

Angel bit his tongue again and moved on to bandaging the hole in Spike's abdomen. He then wrapped both of the younger man's shattered knees tightly. "He's going to be pissed when he finds out he can't walk again," Angel muttered, knowing that broken bones took much longer to heal than puncture wounds, and shattered ones even longer than that.
 

The smaller wounds, such as those created by the staples and the nails, Angel left unbandaged. He didn't know how to bandage someone's gums, anyway.
 

The dark-haired vampire stood once more and walked into the bedroom. As quickly as he could, he removed all the chains from the bed and piled them on the floor in the corner. He turned down the bedding then retrieved a fresh towel to put on the dark sheets.
 

Angel was careful not to jostle Spike too much as he carried the younger man from the bathroom floor to the bed. He set his Childe down gingerly on the towel and pulled the cool sheet up over Spike's bandaged form. He then pulled one of the chairs sitting in the bedroom close to the bed and sat down.
 

He waited.
 

And he cried.
 

The clock on the night-stand read five o'clock precisely when Angel heard a whimper. His head shot up and he focused his teary eyes on his Childe. "Spike?" he whispered as he leaned forward.
 

Spike slowly rolled his head on the pillow towards Angel, his eyelids raising. "Sire?" the younger man questioned in a tentative, soft voice.
 

"It's me -- it's Angel," Angel clarified.
 

"Can't see you," Spike said with the same tentative tone. His slightly wrinkled eyes were unfocused on Angel, the pupils tiny pinpricks in a sea of yellow.
 

"I'm right here," Angel said, his voice hitching. He lifted his hand and gently stroked Spike's cheek. "I'm right here, Spike."
 

Spike's next question speared Angel through the heart. "Why?"
 

Angel swallowed a sob that threatened to burst from between his tightly clamped lips. "I'm so sorry," he said when he was certain he could speak. Tears began to flow down his cheeks once more. "I was drugged and... and he was free again."
 

"Hate..." Spike paused for a very long moment. "...him."
 

"And me," Angel whispered roughly.
 

"No," Spike said slowly. "Not... this... you."
 

"But I-"
 

"No," Spike said harshly. "Not. This. You."
 

Angel pressed his lips together and watched as Spike blinked several times, a frown furrowing his brows. "This you is like... the old Angelus. Before the curse. Before the Slayer. I..." He paused and licked his lips, as if debating whether to go on or not. He did. "...like this you."
 

One corner of Spike's mouth tilted up a tiny bit before he added, "When you're not brooding."
 

The smile that crossed Angel's face was unexpected and uncontrolled. He bent forward and pressed a soft kiss on his Childe's forehead. "Thank you."
 

"'Welcome," Spike said. "Now get me blood... Angel."
 

Angel chuckled, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Yes... Master."
 

Spike smiled genuinely in his direction, then winced. "Ow. Bugger. Hurts to smile."
 

"I'll ride you later and make you feel all better," Angel told him as the dark-haired vampire rose. He saw the sheet twitch at Spike's waist level and grinned. "Or maybe sooner."
 

End
 

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