Demonic Confessions

122207

Disclaimer: I don't own them, Joss does but he said we could play here.

Summary: Secrets revealed, confessions made and more confusion abounds.

Reviews: Yes please. If y'all are still interested, by all means please review and tell me how much I suck at updating. Readers Rock but Reviewers Rule!

A/N: I wouldn't blame anyone who has lost interest in any of my insanity but I hope you will forgive me and accept this latest chapter. I have the final chapter of Resurrected in the works but RL and a fickle muse is making it difficult to do any writing. So I'm offering for all you lovely readers a holiday gift of more Demon!Spike.

May all your Holidays be Happy and that your New Year will be peaceful and profitable.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Giles' apartment, sunset…..

Drusilla gazed down at Michael's unconscious form. She'd meant it when she'd told him that she wouldn't remove his spark. But she was still a vampire and as such had needs that she knew her Pretty would grow to appreciate as time went by. No, she had no intention of losing this one. Her William was gone. His affections were now tied up in pretty bows for another. But still, Dru couldn't blame him. In her former mentally fragile state she hadn't been faithful. Truthfully, faithfulness was not a vampiric trait so blaming it completely on her insanity wasn't quite fair. William was an anomaly, unique in his emotions, faithfulness and humanity. He'd been her work of art and his loss would be with her forever. But Michael… she drew a gentle finger down his lean face. Michael would go a long, long way towards filling the gaping hole her own foolishness had caused. An uncharacteristically soft smile graced her lovely face as the human shifted under her feather-light touch. He sighed and turned his face towards her but did not wake. She pressed a tender kiss on his broad forehead.

"Sleep well my Pet. I will return later." Dru murmured as she carefully backed away from him and rose from the warmth of the bed. She raised her head for a tense moment, pausing in her reach for her clothing. A frown creased her pretty forehead as her Childe's discomfort edged into her consciousness.

"Tell him, my William. He must know and you must say. You will never heal if you do not." She whispered too softly to disturb the sleeping human in the bed next to her. "I will come to see you soon my Childe." Swiftly and silently the Master Vampire dressed and left the Watcher's home. It was dusk and time to hunt. More soldiers were on her menu and there would be no mercy for any of them.

Summers' basement…

Rupert studied the tense frame of the vampire before him. He wasn't sure exactly how to broach the subject of why he wanted to help Spike. He still thoroughly disliked the demon but the things he'd been told by Drusilla made his blood run cold. Michael's revelation of exactly how long the blond had been held captive had horrified him. Another nearly imperceptible shudder wracked Spike's body and pulled Rupert out of his reverie. Silently, he moved over to stand behind the vampire. He raised his hand and placed it gently on one slender shoulder. He blinked, startled when Spike leapt way from the touch like a frightened cat.

Spinning on bare feet, Spike whirled around to face the threat. Game-faced and snarling, he glared at Giles who stood frozen in place with his hand hovering in the air. To Spike it appeared that the man was poised to strike and his training clicked in. His golden eyes widened in renewed fear and he retreated from the expected blow. His gaze remained locked on the hand as if trying to calculate how long it would be before it descended and connected devastating pain.

Following the wide golden gaze with his own sage green eyes, Rupert realized with a slightly sick feeling how the skittish vampire perceived his stance. He lowered his arm quickly, allowing it to drop loosely to his side. His voice softened in an attempt to keep from further frightening the vampire.

"Spike, I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you…. I thought you had heard me approach you." The apology, while sincere, was difficult to voice.

Spike continued his slow retreat from the human although he let his game-face fade away. He watched as Giles deliberately slid his hands into his pockets as if to show that they would not be used for violence. Wary sapphire eyes tracked Giles as he moved leisurely back to stand next to the chair he'd been sitting in, increasing the distance between the two of them. The minutes stretched out until they began to jangle on Rupert's nerves before the vampire spoke again.

"I… um… don't like people sneaking up behind me." The husky voice was low and hesitant, nearly a mumble. "The soldiers… they would… do things… at night… when the White Coats were… gone for the day." A tense silence echoed in the basement for several long minutes. "The White Coats… they did… something to me. My head hurt… when I tried to… fight back. I couldn't… fight… couldn't… stop them." Spike wrapped his arms around his waist defensively as he dropped onto the edge of his cot. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, fighting to control the tears that leapt to his eyes as memories threatened to swamp him. "I couldn't… stop them from… hurting me." He confessed in a choked whisper.

Giles watched the vampire, who now resembled nothing more than a badly traumatized young man, in silence for several more minutes. He saw Spike start when he spoke again.

"Michael told us that the government runs the facility. Their purpose is supposed to be controlling the demonic population. To that end they put a computer chip in your head. It's called a Behavioral Modification Chip. It's supposed to prevent you from harming humans." Giles removed his glasses as Spike's head shot up in disbelief.

"Watcher, what they're doing there has nothing to do with 'controlling'. They're torturing demons. Experimenting on us. What they're doing there…" He broke off with a shudder. "They could give Angelus lessons." He finished quietly.

It was Giles' turn to shudder. "I know. Michael told us. He is no longer affiliated with them."

Spike tilted his head. "Michael. That's the kid from the other day, right? He was part of them." It wasn't a question. "But now he's with… Dru? I could smell her on him. How?"

Rupert sighed ruefully. "Drusilla has been killing the soldiers who tortured you." A brilliant smile lit Spike's face at the revelation but he said nothing. A slight nod from Giles acknowledged the vampire's glee. "Yes, well. Apparently she spared Michael. She tells us that he 'shares your spark'. We aren't quite sure what she means by that. I have my theories but so far Michael has not deigned to verify them."

Spike nodded. "Smart kid." He spoke almost as if talking to himself. "If Angelus ever got loose again…" He shook his head and wished almost violently for a cigarette. "It would be very bad."

"Why would Angelus do anything to Michael?" Giles asked. "Is Michael related to you?"

The vampire sighed. "As far as I know Angelus killed my family so I don't see how that could be possible." He closed his eyes, remembering the almost painfully familiar features of the young man in question. His voice grew introspective. "Although he does smell like…" He broke off again as he realized Giles was listening avidly. He opened his eyes and glared at his companion. "Never you mind. I need to talk to the kid."

Giles sat down and contemplated Spike for several minutes. The blond was still perched on the edge of the cot as if poised to abandon the spot in an instant. Rocking slightly, he still had his arms wrapped around his too thin waist as if unable to get warm. Tiny, almost indiscernible tremors ran through the frail body although Spike seemed unaware that he was still shaking.

"It's rather chilly in here. If I take you up to the kitchen for something hot to drink, will you refrain from attempting to escape?" The question surprised the Watcher almost as much as it did the vampire.

A bitter chuckle echoed through the basement. "Where would I go?"

Giles inclined his head. "Indeed." He replaced his glasses and stood. "Well, then, after you." He gestured toward the stairs.

Giles' apartment….

Michael woke up with a start and a groan. He'd rolled over seeking the cool form of his new lover and her absence had pulled him from his sated slumber. Shifting until he was lying on his back, he took inventory. Breath… check. Pulse… check. At least he was alive. He raised an exploratory hand to his neck. Fang holes in skin… check. Disappointment filled the former soldier. She'd promised. Throwing back the covers, he sat up and searched for his discarded boxers. He slid into them and stood up to find clean clothes before heading into the bathroom for a shower. There was no way he was going to go visit Spike smelling like he'd just had sex with Drusilla!

As much as he was able, Mike avoided looking into his own eyes as he shaved. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about Drusilla's bite but the more he thought about it, the more pissed off he grew. She'd led him to believe that she wasn't going to harm him. That she didn't want to 'remove his spark' whatever that meant. He had a feeling that he already knew. That it meant she wouldn't kill him but with the bite things had changed. He no longer trusted her, although he wasn't sure why he had in the first place. He finished shaving and brushed his teeth before getting dressed. He contemplated getting something to eat but his appetite had deserted him so he checked to make sure he had at least one stake in his jacket pocket. He strapped a knife in a sheath onto his ankle and locked the door before he took off at a slow ground-eating jog into the darkening evening.

Summers' kitchen….

Rupert poured himself two cups of coffee and moved to the refrigerator for some cream. "Do you take cream in your coffee, Spike?"

The vampire glanced up in surprise. "I don't like coffee, could I have some blood and then some tea instead?" He asked quietly.

The human nodded, poured the coffee out of one cup and stuck a bag of blood into the microwave. By the time he'd moved his own drink to the table, the microwave was finished so he poured the blood into the waiting cup. He set it in front of Spike just as a tap sounded on the back door. He let Michael in as Spike thumped his cup down.

"What did you put in my blood??" The outraged question wavered at the end as the vampire began gulping and gagging.

Giles blinked in surprise as Spike scrambled up from the table and dashed for the tiny bathroom under the stairs. The sounds of gut wrenching vomiting floated back into the kitchen.

Mike frowned. "What happened?" He asked as he picked up the discarded cup of blood. He sniffed it with a grimace and hastily put it back where he found it. "It smells all right."

"But I didn't do anything." Giles protested. "I poured him some coffee and asked if he took cream. He said he didn't like coffee and asked for the blood instead so I poured the coffee out and replaced it with his blood. That's all."

"Did you wash the cup after you poured out the coffee?" Mike asked, suspicion that he now knew what was wrong colored the question.

"Well… no. Should I have?" Discomfited, Rupert removed his glasses and withdrew his handkerchief.

Mike nodded as Spike made his way unsteadily back to his chair. His face was paler than it had been before and tiny red dots marred the translucent skin around his eyes. Mike searched the cabinets by the stove and grinned when he found what he was looking for. He found a glass, filled it with water, spooned in some sugar and added two drops of clear liquid from the tiny brown bottle. He stirred the concoction thoroughly and set it in front of the shaky vampire. "Here." He said gently. "It's an old family remedy. It'll settle your stomach."

The scent of peppermint assaulted Spike's nose as he lifted the glass to his lips. Startled blue eyes flew wide open as he recognized the drink.

"Yes, you know what that is, don't you?" Mike asked almost too softly for Giles to hear. He knelt next to the vampire's chair. Spike nodded as he swallowed the sip he'd taken.

Joyce entered the room. "Did I hear someone throwing up?" She asked as her worried hazel eyes searched the faces of the three men.

Spike set his glass carefully back onto the table. "That was me." He admitted. "Watcher tried to poison me." The comment was casually made without rancor.

"I did no such thing." Giles protested. "I don't even know what it was I did wrong."

Joyce rushed over to Spike's unoccupied side. "Are you all right?" She brushed her fingers gently over his hair.

"I'm ok." His voice was huskier than it had been before and pain shot through the woman's heart.

"What are you drinking?" She covered her reaction by taking Spike's glass and sniffing the contents.

"I hope you don't mind but I made him some peppermint water to settle his stomach. It's an old family remedy." Mike spoke up as he rose from his crouch and moved a chair over to sit in.

"No. I don't mind at all. I surprised someone as young as you would know about that." Joyce smiled at Mike.

"My Grammy Em always used it when anyone had an upset stomach. She swore by it." Mike admitted with a smile.

Giles settled his highly polished glasses back onto his nose. "I'd really like to know what it was I did wrong." He folded his arms defensively over his chest.

"You didn't rinse the coffee out of Spike's cup. I told you that." Mike reiterated.

"So you said but what difference does that make?" Now Giles was curious.

Mike stood, took the offending cup of blood from the table and moved to the sink to rinse it out. He got a new bag from the refrigerator and placed it in the microwave. "How long do you set this for?" He asked Joyce, earning a glare from Giles.

"Ninety seconds." She answered. A gleam entered her eyes as she recognized a fellow passive-aggressive tormentor.

"The problem with that is when someone is allergic to coffee even what's left over from pouring it out of a cup will make them sick." Mike stated as he pushed buttons.

"But Spike only said he didn't like coffee. He never said he was allergic." Rupert protested. His agile mind recalled his previous conversation with Michael about his family's tendency towards that very same allergy.

"Do you always admit your weaknesses?" Mike asked with amusement as he removed the blood from the microwave and refilled the freshly washed cup.

Spike accepted his fresh cup of blood and sipped it cautiously. His mind was stuck on what Mike had said earlier. 'Grammy Em.' It wasn't possible. Was it? Could she have survived? If she had, how could this kid have known her? She would have had to have been over one hundred years old before he was even born. He was what… 20? 22? Was she still alive? No, that was impossible. He himself had died 120 years ago and she had been six years old then. Had Angelus somehow failed in his mission to completely destroy William's family? He ignored the others as they discussed whether or not he should have admitted to his allergy. For that matter, how did the kid know about coffee allergies? It was not a common ailment. In all his years he'd only known one other person who suffered the same allergy and he'd been human at the time. Granted, he normally hadn't gotten to know humans enough to find out what their likes, dislikes and allergies were, people were food, plain and simple, but still, as far as he knew, coffee allergy was rare.. He risked a glance up at Mike and stopped to stare. The kid had forgotten his unnaturally green contacts so his blue/gray eyes sparkled with intelligence as he bickered with Giles. Spike's own blue gaze roamed over the high cheekbones, the fair skin and pointy chin of the younger human. Were it not for the burgundy hair, Spike felt he might have been looking at a century old photo. Mike turned towards the counter that held the coffee maker and Spike's jaw dropped. He set his empty cup down with another thump.

"You let Dru bite you? Are you insane?" The young man had not been turned. Spike could tell that much from the three heartbeats he could hear in the room. He stood up, stalked over, grabbed his nephew by the arm, spun him around and used his free hand to yank aside Mike's t-shirt collar.

Mike snarled, bringing his free arm up and knocking the hand off his shirt. "It's not like I asked for it. She said she wouldn't hurt me and then she did." His anger at Drusilla had returned with the blond's accusation. He pulled but couldn't dislodge the hand grasping his other arm tightly.

The vampire leaned even closer and sniffed. He could smell the blood from the small cuts Drusilla had inflicted on the boy but that wasn't all he could smell. "You slept with her?" He scowled as a flare of jealousy speared his heart. "You are crazy." He let go of Mike with a slight shove of dismissal and backed away a step.

"Ok, what part of 'I didn't ask' did you not hear?" Mike shot back heatedly as he regained his balance. "Like I'm gonna win a fight with a vampire." His anger receded slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. His hand rose to cover the bite on his neck. "You of all people should know how she is."

"Yes, I do know." Spike admitted. "Tell me, Boy. Did she say she wouldn't hurt you or that she didn't want to? Think carefully."

"She said she didn't want to but that she needed a taste." Michael confessed. His anger returned. "Then she hurt me… a lot and bit me. How can I trust her now?"

"You don't." Spike told him flatly, blue eyes boring into gray/blue. "Never trust her. But if she says she won't turn you, she won't. She will hurt you but never turn you."

"But why bite me?" Mike asked plaintively as his flash of anger faded.

The vampire sighed and ran slender fingers though his ungelled hair as he turned away from the human. "She marked you. Now you're safe from other vampires and demons. No one will dare mess with you now. They'd have her to answer to."

Mike gulped. "She claimed me?" His eyes were wide as he stared in shock as his ancestor.

Spike shook his head. "No, not yet. She just marked you as hers. But you're not a pet either. Since she did it during sex she's laying the groundwork to make you her consort." He walked back to the table, suddenly very tired. "It's more than she ever did for me." The last was a bitter, barely audible whisper of sound.

Michael realized with a sinking feeling that Giles and Joyce had witnessed the exchange and now knew he was sleeping with a vampire. Discomfited, he turned back to the cabinet to find a cup. He poured it full of coffee and added liberal spoonfuls of sugar. Taking the drink back to the table, he sat down next to Spike.

The vampire noticed the contents of Mike's cup with a sinking heart. "You drink coffee." The statement was flat.

A nod of the dyed head acknowledged the comment. "Yup, Mama said it was a recessive gene from way back somewhere or maybe an aberration from my dad's side but I'm the only one other than my Uncle George who can drink the stuff." He shrugged with a wry smile. He winked at Spike. "But then, Uncle George married into the family. All the blood relatives have the problem though."

"I see." Spike settled back to consider that. An entire family that shared the same allergy. The odds were astronomical. Long practice kept his face and eyes expressionless as hope swelled in his unbeating heart.

"Well." Joyce had straightened during the confrontation and now moved over to the refrigerator. "It's past time I made dinner." She declared as she pulled some defrosted chicken out and found a baking pan. With quick movements she seasoned the meat and slid it into the oven.

She found some frozen vegetables and put them in a pot to heat then filled the kettle with water for tea. A tin of biscuits was next to come out of the refrigerator and she placed them evenly on a cookie sheet she took out of a drawer at the bottom of the stove. Then she set up a tray with a china tea pot and cups. As Spike had taught her over a year before, she measured loose tea to prepare it 'properly'.

Giles cleared his throat as he sat down at the table. "Spike." He began quietly. "Earlier you asked me if I was looking for payback."

Wary blue eyes rose to focus on the Watcher. "Yeah, what about it? I don't have anything to give." Spike returned his attention back to his empty blood cup wishing he had the courage to get up and get more as he used to do before. It was one of the things from before that he did remember. The one thing he was hiding from them all, the one thing that scared him nearly as much as the thought of that place, was that Maggie Walsh's experiments had created gaps in his memory. There were gaps in the time before that he simply could not remember. He hoped with all his unbeating heart that none of the humans would discover that he was even more messed up than they knew.

"That's the thing." Giles took a sip from his own cup and grimaced at the cold coffee. "I don't want anything from you." He confessed. "I'm trying to repay you for saving my life." Silence filled the room as the words faded away.

"What?!?" Spike yelled when the statement sank in. "When in bloody hell did I do something as daft as that??"

TBC