The demon fell to his knees and his face slapped onto the wet concrete showering Spike's feet in rainwater. He heaved a sigh of relief and dropped to his own knees, wiping the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.
A few rays peeked over the horizon and Spike came to his senses, dragging his aching carcass back up and scanning the landscape for shelter. The closest thing was the decimated remains of The Hyperion. Slapping his way through the street, he ducked inside.
"Illyria? Angel?" Spike hollered at the top of his lungs. "Angel!!!!"
His blue eyes darted across the street before landing on the hulking body of Angel.
"Bloody hell." Spike shook his head in annoyance and headed back out into the early morning.
The sun was rapidly crawling its way across the sky and Spike muttered a silent prayer that he could get in and out quick. His hand grasped Angel's shoulder and he shook him vigorously.
"Angel. Angel, come on you great poof get up! Angel, the sun...come on." Spike yanked his arm but he just rolled over. "For God's sake..."
Spike huffed and lugged Angel's body into his arms. With one last look at the approaching sunlight he staggered on his weak body back over to The Hyperion. With his last bit of effort he secured him and Angel's places in the shadows and collapsed onto the ground.
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Spike awoke with a start, Illyria's cerulean eyes staring into his soul. "Christ, Blue!"
"You are still alive." Illyria noted.
"Yup, same goes for you." Spike nodded towards her. "Gunn?"
"Dead. I do not know where he is, I saw him go down. No human could have survived that."
"Shame. I liked old Charlie Boy." Spike sighed.
"How hurt are you?" Illyria demanded.
Spike realised he hadn't actually looked at his injuries since the battle ended and he began to inspect himself. He had a stab wound on his left shoulder and one in his stomach with a smattering of bruises and scratches across his whole body. "Not too bad." He shrugged painfully.
"Angel. He is barely alive." Illyria trained her eyes on Angel's still unconscious form.
"Well he's not dust so.." Spike hoisted Angel's body into a seated position.
"He will not be dust."
"Well I bloody well hope not."
"You misunderstand me. I mean even dead, he will not be dust."
Spike cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"This one, he is human now."
"Boy are you off your game! He's not.." Spike sniffed the air around his grandsire. That was Angel's scent alright: hair gel, that horrible aftershave and his soul, with that bitter undertone that cursed souls have...no vampire scent though.
"The prophecy." Illyria stated simply.
"Shanshu. Bloody typical, I save the world just as many times and this git becomes human." Spike shook his head.
"Why would you want to be human?" Illyria blinked in confusion. "They're weak and emotional."
Spike scoffed. "Too right. I'd be an awful human...but maybe Buffy would finally get what she deserved."
Illyria didn't answer, she'd been taught not to speak when anyone mentioned this 'Buffy' person. Spike cleared his head of thoughts of his former lover and turned his attention back to Angel.
Spike placed his cool palm against the back of Angel's head and felt the warm blood ooze through his fingers. That wound could kill a human. Time for action.
"Illyria, do you have enough power left to open me a portal?" Spike asked.
"Yes." Illyria replied, not making any movement.
"You wanna do that then?" Spike prompted.
"Where are you going?"
"The only place I can."
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The wind whistled through the castle's ancient walls, the stones encasing every chill. The gang had gone to bed hours before, even the girls patrolling that night had already retired to their bedrooms as well. Now it was just her, slumped on the grand staircase, head resting against the bannister, thinking.
With crack of lightning and a clap of magic, a portal tore its way through the fabric of the air. Out of the abyss he appeared, black combat boots, leather duster, cheekbones so sharp they could cut vegetables and a gelled top of bleached hair. In his arms, a slumbering Angel, a crust of dried blood caked in his hair.
"Spike?"
"Hi, Buffy."
