Part II: Gas Station Roses
Willow spent most of their first night on the road silently studying Spike. He was magnificent, and Drusilla had promised that he was all hers. Well, Drusilla had said something more along the lines of Mummy's lonely prince needing a new playmate, a princess to keep him company forever, but in the few nights Willow had gotten to spend with her sire, she had come to speak fluent Drusilla-ese.
They were the same, Willow and Spike. In the last moments of Willow's humanity Drusilla had told her story after story, painting a picture of the vampire that was to be Willow's eternal companion, a watercolor that was covered over in blood. Sitting in the bower that Drusilla had made for her, a nest of silk and flower petals that Drusilla thought made a good nursery for a baby vampire, Willow learned of William. Spike, she knew. Spike had terrified her, held a broken bottle in her face, threatened her death, and wept on her shoulder.
But he had always come back for her. How many times now had she felt his fingers digging into the nape of her neck, wrenching her hair, glowing eyes boring into hers?
"It is because he knows, yet does not know. You call to him, my sweet little Red. I lost my prince the moment he first saw his princess."
It was William who was new to Willow. Sweet William, Drusilla called him. He was shy and stuttering and so loyal and lovely, and had remained that way when first turned, until Angelus got him in his clutches. The human Willow resisted these stories, thrust them away from herself, but couldn't quiet the sound of Drusilla's voice, echoing down to her heart. William, Willow, Will. They were both Will. Bookish, boring, reliable Dog Geyser type people. Both strong in all the wrong ways, and weak in all the right ones.
In spite of herself, she wished she had known William before he became Spike.
And then had come the dark embrace, the sting of Drusilla's teeth in her neck, and Willow had woken the next night in a whole new world. A world where Drusilla, her sire, was the sun and moon, and her ravings were the word of a god humans couldn't know.
"You will go find my sweet Willy, and stay with him. Stay with your brother," Willow's Mummy commanded, just hours before Angel had shown up and chased her away. "You will stay and stay and you will love."
Drusilla kissed her, and Willow kissed back, bursting with the desire to please her sire, with what might be love, but surely couldn't be, because she didn't have a soul. And after she had her first feeding, and her memories returned, she started to imagine her William, her Spike, her Brother in Blood, and the same feeling welled up, choking her with knotted red thread she couldn't see.
Might as well call it love. The word fit better than any other she knew.
She glanced at him, out of the corner of her eye. He was lost in a haze of cigarette smoke, staring straight ahead at the road that stretched out before them (in more than one way, in a hundred thousand ways). She could still taste his blood on her tongue and feel the dark glimmerings of his power in her veins. Her demon purred contentedly inside her.
They were meant to be together, and they would cut a swathe of beautifully wrought destruction across the earth that would never be forgotten. It would be such great fun.
And he needed her. She hadn't forgotten about his chip. Without Drusilla to guide her, she needed Spike, she knew. Vampires were pack creatures, and most young vampires met an untimely end before they were undead for fifty years if they didn't have a sire, a mother, a father, a brother, a lover to teach and protect them.
But it was nice to know that he needed her too.
Had needed her even before she was turned, if only for comfort and love spells.
"You're being awful quiet, pet," Spike interrupted her reverie. He rolled the driver's side window down, letting out the halo of smoke around his head.
"Hungry," she whispered to him, clutching her dolly to her chest.
Truth be told, she felt silly with the doll, but it was the only thing she had from Drusilla. And she thought it added to her ruse. Willow was just as intelligent and sane as her human self had been, but she had quickly realized the benefits of being thought crazy when Angel showed up and took her away from her Mummy.
He'd immediately started treating her like some broken little girl, and she had obliged by playing along. Whatever Angel said about family, she was certain that part of what had kept her alive was that she both reminded him of her sire and seemed incapable of taking care of herself for any length of time.
And it was amazing what sorts of things people would say in front of you if they thought you wouldn't understand.
"We'll stop soon, luv, and get a bite to eat," Spike promised, grinning at his pun. Willow returned his smile. She could sense the bloodlust in him, feeding into hers. Was he looking forward to drinking blood straight from the source again? Remembering his treatment at the hands of the Scoobies – at the hands of her human self, thinking she was being kind by feeding him a mug of pig's blood – she frowned. He deserved so much better. He was so much more, and she was amazed and ashamed she hadn't been able to see it before. Hadn't been able to see past the stark black lines humans draw between right and wrong. There was no good, and there was no evil, there was just living and dying and feeling and blood. It was all so simple now.
She would be doubly vicious, vicious enough for two, and then she would kill a bloodbag for her sweetling, and know that he was starting to love her. Soon he would be so completely wrapped up in her that he wouldn't be able to imagine the night without her in it. She would make sure of it.
"The stars will sing of us," she told him. She didn't intend to fool Spike forever, but it was entertaining to see how long it would take him to figure out she was just as sane as he was.
"That they will, Red. That they will."
There was silence for a few minutes, just the radio crackling in the background, and then Spike looked at her, his cigarette dangling between his lips. "What's her name?" He gestured at Willow's doll.
Willow looked down and the porcelain poppet in her hands. The doll had dark hair like Drusilla, and a frilly green dress. Willow hadn't named the doll anything. She didn't care about it beyond it being a token of her sire's regard.
"Don't know," she answered truthfully, holding the doll up and running her fingers through its hair.
"Got to have a name," Spike told her, two fingers tipped with chipped black nail polish coming up to pluck his cigarette from his lips before he blew out a stream of smoke. "Dru'd want you to name her."
Taking that to heart, Willow returned to her study of the doll's face.
"Rose," she said at last.
"S'good name," Spike agreed.
-l-
They stopped at a truck stop a few hours before dawn. Spike went in first to scope the place out, coming out with a new carton of cigarettes and filling up the tank of the SUV. He didn't know how to turn the gas pumps on and off, so it was only practical to buy the gas first.
And part of him hoped that Angel would be tracking where William and Katie Conner were using their debit cards, and connect their gas purchase to the massacre that was about to occur.
"There's four men inside," he told Red. "Best you leave Rose in the car. Now, I need you to pay attention, pet," he looked at her seriously.
"I'm listening, my Spike," she promised him with a sweet smile.
"When you're ready to attack, make sure you get the cashier first. He might have a gun behind the counter. A gun won't kill you, pet, but it'll hurt if you're shot, and ruin your pretty clothes."
Dru had always been more worried about getting her clothes dirty than getting hurt.
"Wouldn't want that," Red purred to him, standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. If he was human, he was sure his heart would be pounding. It was too long since he'd had the attention of a vampiress of Red's caliber. She was still a fledge, true enough, but Spike could see the potential there. She'd rise to the level of master all too soon.
He only hoped she'd still want him when she did. No, he'd make sure she still wanted him. He was done being left for greener pastures and fiercer demons, and he sure as hell wasn't going back to drinking bagged blood after having a meal ticket like Red.
He resolved to make his little princess crave his presence, just as Dru had always yearned for Angelus.
"I'll hold the doors closed so they can't run from you," he told Red just before she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his in a kiss.
He couldn't hurt humans directly, but the chip couldn't do a damn thing to keep him from trapping them with Red.
"Back in a minute, baby," she told him. He watched her saunter through the doors of the truck stop. He was glad they were glass. He'd be able to see the slaughter.
He followed her at a discreet distance, waiting until he heard the first scream to rush forward and grab the handles of the doors.
Red was a clumsy hunter, but she made up for her lack of skill with sheer enthusiasm. Spike grinned to himself as he watched her jump up onto the counter and take the cashier down. One of the truck drivers who had been eating in the little restaurant area ran for the doors, begging for Spike to let him out once he realized the blond vampire was holding them firmly shut.
Spike closed his eyes and breathed deep, reveling in the scent of fear and the feel of having this man's life in his hands. If he opened the door, he could let the man go. If he kept it closed, this truck stop would be the sod's tomb.
Spike opened his eyes just in time to see blood spray the glass of the doors. Red had caught up with the truck driver, and plunged her little hand through the man's torso from behind, ripping out his heart. The bodies of the others were slumped throughout the truck stop floor.
Spike opened the doors, stepping to one side as the now heartless man fell. He looked so surprised, little grunting noises still coming from his lips.
Red held the heart out to Spike. "A gift for Big Brother," she grinned, dots of blood making macabre freckles on her face.
"Thank you, luv," he told her, shifting into game face. He could barely restrain himself. Hands shaking, he bit into the heart and sucked, nearly creaming himself when the blood hit his tongue. Still warm, and edged with fear and despair. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten how good it was.
He moaned, and Red giggled, rubbing her hand over the obvious bulge in his pants, leaving a streak of blood. Moaning again, Spike bucked against her hand.
She blew him a kiss and dragged one of the other corpses over for him, then pounced on the remaining two herself. She was a messy eater, just as messy as she was a killer, but she just needed to be trained up a bit. Once they were settled, Spike would teach her better, more elegant methods. But for now she was a wild thing, her bestial nature beautiful in its own way.
-l-
Willow watched her Spike through half lidded eyes, happy with herself for so obviously pleasing him. Her demon pushed her to assert her own power and please the older vampires in her family, and in this act she had done both.
Being with Spike was so much better than being with Angel, with his simpering little soul and all his pet humans. She wanted so to give her grandsire the respect he deserved, but found she could only manage a sort of lukewarm tolerance and pity. Saddled with a soul as he was, always flopping about as he worried about the artificial demarcations between good and bad, he might as well have had his fangs yanked out. He was dead, but he had stopped living. Pathetic little puppy.
But Spike, oh Spike. Even with the chip in his head, his capacity for glorious violence was undiminished. Wistfully, Willow wished she had been born in an earlier time, a time when they could have roamed through the land and killed whole villages without repercussion. They would have to be much more careful in the age of technology, where they could be tracked through trace evidence and blood spatter, and humans had weapons powerful enough to hurt.
That thought in mind, Willow dropped the bloodbag she'd been feeding from, and went behind the counter. First she destroyed the closed circuit security feeds, making sure to damage the monitors and digital recorder beyond playability. The next thing she crushed was the credit card machine, knowing Spike had used their debit cards to pay for the gas. When Spike looked at her, one brow raised, she giggled, clapped her hands, and made a show of breaking more things. The seemingly random destruction would throw off the police, and make Spike persist in thinking she was as crazy as Drusilla.
Besides, it was fun.
Leaving the counter area, she continued to a shelf of cheap knickknacks. One by one, she tipped a row of snow globes onto the floor, cackling as they shattered, and then walking over the glass to revel in the sound of it crunching under her boots. Soon she was stepping in a deliberate rhythm, humming one of the Sex Pistols songs Spike kept playing on the radio. Spike left her to it, hopping over the counter to take all the cartons of the cigarettes he liked, and stealing the money out of the cash register.
"See anything you want to keep, pet?" he called to her, just before she shoved an entire shelf over. When the sound of groaning metal and breaking glass had faded, he continued, "Don't break the one with the booze on it."
She nodded her understanding, and started wandering the aisles to see if anything caught her eye. Spotting a teddy bear wearing a little commemorative shirt, Willow snatched it up, pulling the shirt off the bear. A bit of whimsy made her smile as she contemplated putting the shirt on her doll, Rose. Maybe she'd start a collection – a new piece of clothing for Rose in every town where they stopped to kill. She thought Drusilla would approve.
"You need to get cleaned up, luv." Spike was suddenly behind her, moving so quietly that even her vampire hearing had not warned her of his approach. Perhaps in another twenty years, she would be as graceful. "Go find the loo and wash the blood off. I'll bring you some clothes from the car."
Willow nodded to him. Though she liked the feel of the blood under her nails and dotted on her skin, it wasn't practical to leave it there, and she didn't want to get it all over the inside of the SUV. That would raise too many questions.
The truck stop bathroom was dirty enough to make Willow glad that vampires were immune to human diseases. The stale scent of urine overpowered by bleach assaulted her delicate nose. Wrinkling the appendage, she quickly stripped down to her skin, wetting her clothes and using them to scrub at the blood on her hands and face. She wanted out of the bathroom as soon as possible.
Spike found her when she was about halfway done, a stack of clothes in his hands. He stood in the doorway, devouring her with his eyes. Willow turned and posed for him.
"Am I pretty?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Gorgeous," he returned, desire filling his words with a low growl. Willow could smell the lust between them, thick in the air.
And then Willow no longer cared about the stink of the bathroom or the dirt of the floor. Spike's presence was overpowering, all around her, filling her up. He bent her over the sinks, her change of clothes sprawled across the counter and Spike's duster hanging down around the both of them as he thrust into her and she bucked her hips back to meet his.
"Who is your princess?" she demanded, panting, though she no longer needed to breathe.
"You are, Red," he promised her.
Then he shifted into game face, and Willow felt his teeth at her neck. Turning in his arms, Willow let her own demon come to the fore and latched onto Spike's neck in turn. They stood there for what seemed an eternity, each giving and taking blood from the other while they rocked together, an act symbolic of the nature of their bond.
It was more than sex and blood. It was a Christening, a forging of eternity. Spike called her Red, and she took the name as her own, folding Willow up and putting her away. Willow was a human, soft and fuzzy.
Red was Spike's princess, and more. Red was Spike's sister and mate.
William, Willow, Will.
Red Spikes of Blood.
Spike might not believe yet, but Red knew that their sire, their Blood Mother saw the twists of fate. Drusilla had made Red to be with Spike, and Red knew it would be forever. They would fuck, and plunder, and kill, and one day Drusilla would come back for both of them, and they would all be a family again.
But she figured she'd have Spike all to herself for at least a century or so first.
-l-
Angel went to Giles' apartment two days after he watched his childer drive off into the night. Part of him wished he was with them. A master without his family wasn't really a master. But he knew he couldn't. He was needed in L.A., and his soul, his conscience wouldn't allow him to look the other way when Spike and Willow killed. Not if he was witnessing it firsthand. He felt guilty enough knowing he'd set them loose on the world without even trying to stop them. But as dark and deadly as they were, they were a reflection of him, his children. He wouldn't let them be staked. He yearned.
He wasn't sure if that feeling came from his demon or his soul.
Buffy opened the door, her mouth dropping open to see him standing there. "Angel? What are you doing here? Is Willow with you?"
"No," he said slowly, taking in every inch of Buffy's face, memorizing it in case she refused to see him again after he told her everything. "Willow's not in Sunnydale."
It wasn't quite a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth.
"It'll be better if I can tell everyone at once."
Buffy stepped back from the door. "Come in, Angel."
-l-
When it was all said and done, Buffy couldn't look at him. Giles paced back and forth, alternating looking through his books with polishing his glasses. Xander was furious, and blamed Angel, but then Xander had always disliked Angel and this did nothing to lessen the rift.
Besides, Angel had made Drusilla into what she was. Ultimately, Willow's death was his fault.
Anya thought Angel had done the thing that made the most sense, but she quickly fell silent when all of the humans in the room turned on her.
"How could you?" Buffy said, something broken in her gaze.
"Please, Buffy. Try to understand. I couldn't just slaughter them. And I couldn't force you to do it. It would be too cruel."
"No, I mean how could you let Drusilla get to Willow in the first place?!"
Angel didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say.
"Please just go. I can't be near you right now."
He went to the door without complaint, without even a backward glance. This could be good, he decided as he went out into the night and climbed into his car. Maybe things would be easier, the temptation to come to Sunnydale just to catch a glimpse of Buffy less intense if he knew she didn't want him.
That was what he told himself.
