Title: The Alliteration Series: Conclusion

Author: Stolen Childe

Disclaimer: Don't own, it belongs to people who have names and money.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: cursing, slash, unbeta'd, twt

Paring: A/S

Author's Notes: The last part of the trilogy. I wasn't sure what I wanted to write for this one so I just let the words come. This is more slashy than the other two. I hope you like, please review. hurdle

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Spike, at long last, felt he was ready. Confident in himself and ready to meet the harsh light of day. He paused at the top of the carpeted stair of the Hyperion hotel, looking down at the assembled group and steeled his nerves. He walked carefully, slowly, some of his wounds still flaring from his bout at the trials, unable to heal through lack of feeding. When he reached the foot he looked up at the widows, high and away keeping preternatural anomalies safe from the sun; it burned. He glanced over at the milling humans and it tore. His blue eyed, edging on panicked gaze looked frightfully around the hotel, seeking out his solace and mentally sighed. Angel was sitting contentedly in the office talking on the phone, watching him with a small measure of anxiety in his chocolate gaze. Spike sent him a small tentative smile and watched his elder visibly relax and smile back.

Spike rolled his shoulder, straightened his back and took the last few steps to the marble floors; heading to the mini-fridge and withdrawing a container of blood. He poured himself some in a mug and placed it in the microwave, watching it revolve slowly around on the glass plate and tapping his fingers in a nonessential beat, which was only slightly rhythmic. He felt his own panic rising and fought it down with all the strength he still possessed. The humans were staring. Oh it didn't look like they were, but Spike wasn't a master vampire for nothing, he felt their gazes burning and scorching like the sun, especially the boy.

The boy that smelt like blood and family and home and entirely too human to soothe Spike's demon. When the microwave did finally chime it's incessant notes, Spike jumped in surprise. He snatched the liquid up and took a sip, hissing as it burnt his lip. The humans were still watching. Spike turned around, only to come face to face with the cheerleader. He turned again to see Wussley leaning over some book or another. Turning again he saw the mousy bint and the streetbrat. Another turn and his blue gaze met with that of the boy's.

"Bloody fucking hell." Spike's eyes widened comically, "You're Darla's offspring? The Queen Bitch herself?"

Connor looked surprised and covered it quickly, "Be quite Demon. I wish not to speak with you."

"I don't bloody well care if you wish to speak with me or not Boy. Cuz you're damn well going to. What the fuck happened?" Spike asked, placing his mug down, forgetting for the moment that he was still suppose to be mopey and ensouled.

"Connor is Darla's and mine." Angel said quietly moving out of the office, "I was... upset and she was there and Connor is what came of it."

"So you're a bastard then?" Spike confirmed, using it in the most literal sense, using it as he heard as a child.

Connor's face reddened and he stood up, "What did you just say to me Demon?"

"Er... you're illegitimate?" Spike tried, backing down and remembering why he didn't want to come down here in the first place. Angel reached up and put a placating hand on Spike's shoulder and sent Connor a calming look.

"It wasn't intended as it sounded Connor." Angel said.

Connor huffed and sat back down, thinking better of it he stood up and stormed out into the day, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry." Spike whispered, pulling free of the hand and moving back to the stairs, "'M gonna go up know. Don't much like it down 'ere anymore."

"Spike!" Angel called after the blond.

"Angel." Cordelia said, "Just leave it for now. He's confused, you know that." Angel sighed and ran the his finger around the rim of Spike's forgotten mug on the counter, wishing he could make it all better.

xx

Spike entered Angel room, kicked off his boots and curled up in a tiny ball on top of the bed clothes. He had screwed up again. He just wanted to know what had happened. Why a human smelt like home, like Angel. He felt the familial blood flowing through the boy's veins and those determined icy eyes had only driven it home. He would recognize the calculating look anywhere. He had seen it directed at him for nearly thirty years, but never that cold. There was always a measure of fondness beneath it, fondness for her favoured's favoured. In her own odd way Darla had been proud of him and for a fledge to have a that from and elder was astounding. Magnificent. And when that pride was directed at him from Angelus's chocolate gaze it was absolutely... absolutely... sublime.

Spike shuddered and burrowed himself under the bed clothes, making his own little nest surrounded by Angel's scent. He felt like a fledge again, without all the fire, lost and scared. Screaming voices crying out for mercy and escape from the pain and torture he had inflicted. He had rejoiced in it, revelled in it, but he never looked back. Stalk, cut, run. Stalk, cut, run. It had been his motis apperendi for nearly fifty years. His raison d'ĂȘtre. He shuddered again and tried to sink into Angel's scent, pull from the bedding Angel's strength and wrap it around him like a shroud.

Spike felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and shrunk away from the touch, keening softly in his throat and burying his face into the mattress beneath him.

"Spike." Angel's voice, "Will. Come on."

The blond slowly pushed the blankets away from himself and looked at Angel through lowered lids, twisting the sheets in his strong grip.

"Spike. I just got you back, don't tumble away again, all right?" Angel said, "Connor's been through a rough time and he doesn't understand our world. He was stolen from me, when he was a baby and I only got him back a few months ago. He was all grown up and had been raised in a hell dimension by a psycho."

"S'not our world." Spike murmured, "S'never ours, never was. We're just in it by chance you and I. Demons walking amongst humans, rending and pillaging, taking what we want and not caring who gets 'urt."

Angel placed both his hands on the blond's shoulders, "That's not true." he said gently, "Not anymore. We aren't your average rending demons Spike, we have souls and we have to deal with all the atrocities we conducted. But I'm not going to let you be like I was. I'm going to help you through this and you're going to learn to move on. Atone."

Spike snorted, "Atone. It was a mistake, this soul. I just wanted 'im to take the chip out so I could go an' kill the slayer and 'urt all her little friends." Tears welled in blue eyes and Spike leaned forward into Angel, grasping the soft silk of his shirt, "God, I'm such a bad man. I tried to rape her then fled to Africa cuz I couldn' an' wanted to kill her."

"Spike." Angel whispered, "List-- listen to me. Hush. What you did, all the bad you did wasn't your fault. It was the demon inside. But now the demon's subdued Spike. Now you can make up for it."

"No!" Spike said harshly, pulling away, "It can't be made up for Angel! It isn't just something that a few good deeds can make all better. I killed people! And I enjoyed it! It's like putting a murderer in prison. The bars don't make up for the bad Angel, the bars just stop them from doing it again! My demon is behind bars. But I can't make what I did better! If I ever loose it, if the soul ever gets lost then the world is lost! But you, after a century of moping and hiding in the shadows prance around in your expensive clothes, driving your big shiny penis-mobile and rescue people from creatures like us! You try to outweigh the bad, god knows you try! But it doesn't give those mothers back their children or those children back their mothers. It doesn't reanimate that cold dead corpse of the husband you helped to put in the ground. Or the schoolboy you fucked and let bleed to death. It doesn't give back Drusilla's sanity, or my innocence and it won't. It'll just make you feel better! But one slip and your back. You locked twenty lawyers in a room with Darla and Drusilla! You crispy-fried them to make up for it! But it didn't soddin' help did it?"

"Spike." Angel whispered, taken completely aback.

"No! I'm not done talking!" the younger vampire cut him off viciously, "All the good deeds and the saving the day won't right wrongs. Because you an' I were monsters, two of the greatest monsters to ever exits. Then we got neutered. Well news flash Angelus! Neutered dogs still bite. Puppies still piss on your floor and if you de-claw a cat they'll still try to scratch! I want to make it better. God do I ever want it. But I don't know how and I don't think you know how to help me. Cuz you just grin and bear it as it is Sire. I can see you slipping on occasion, I can feel the blood screaming. I know what it's like. A soul don't make you all good and noble I'm afraid. It just slaps you in the face with a conscience and leaves you to work it out for yourself. Human's have souls. Human's kill people. We aren't better than humans Angel, we just have centuries of shit behind us to make us see how wicked humanity can be. Maybe Angelus had a good idea when he had his little vacation in Sunnydale. Maybe it would have been better if the world got sucked into hell."

"I know exactly what you mean." Angel said softly, startling Spike, "A dead man visited me in an elevator once and showed me how tainted the world is without us in it. But if we don't try to help, who is going to? There are noble people in the world Spike. I know a young woman who struggled with pain every day of her life to help people who needed her. I know a man who betrayed his best friend to save the life of a innocent child. I know a street kid who pulled together a ragtag group of others to save people like themselves. I know a mousy librarian who suffered five years in hell only to try to save another girl from the same fate. I know a half-demon who jumped into a light that ripped his life from him to save a family. And I know a vampire, with a pure heart who went across the world to get a soul. I don't care what excuses you make Will. I know you, I know you better than I'd like to sometimes and not as good as I think I do. But you wanted that soul. You wanted to make up for what you had done. Now I want you to help me. Help me make up for what I have done. Help me save humanity before they loose themselves. Pull yourself free of this and be the gentle man I destroyed because I was jealous. Please."

His eyes were so truthful and imploring that Spike felt the ice around his undead heart crack a little and when cool lips met his with so much longing and love he felt the ice shatter all together. Not of his own accord his hands slipped up and tangled in soft brown hair, his eyes slipped shut and he poured all his love and longing right back through that kiss and their long established blood bond. This was home, the clashing and meeting of tongues, the blunt teeth, slowly sharpening. The cool hardness of preternatural flesh. This was home. Spike was safe, Spike was warm. Angel was taking him in and wrapping himself around him. Cradling him from his insanity. The demon hushed, the soul stopped its rapid fluttering and everything was perfectly clear.

They pulled back, long before they had to and stared into one another's eyes. Old, knowledgeable eyes that had seen too much. And together then sunk down into the bedclothes entangled so perfectly and succumbed to emotional exhaustion. Their lives were far from over, but this chapter had finally come to a blessed end.

The End