It's my first BtVS and AtS story. I hope you like it.
Title : Reborn
Author : Marie-J
Email: francoise.perichaud@libertysurf.fr
(Please, feedback needed)
Fandom: BtVS and AtS, maybe crossover later with
Highlander….
WIP (I don't know if I will have a lot of time to
write it in the near future….)
Character death, Mpreg, angst, romance (later maybe
Angel/Methos)
Disclaimers: the characters are not mine, sad, isn't
it.
Archive: if you want it, take it (just tell me)
Summary: Spike dies but is reborn. Who is the happy
father, if not his Sire, Angel…
Rating: for now, PG.
*******
Spike could not feel anything but the pain.
He had already lost all his strength and knew that for him, the end would come
soon. And he was alone, with no one to comfort him as he lived his last
minutes. No one to squeeze gently his hand and reassure him.
Of
course, he was the Big Bad Vampire, as he liked to tell everyone, and most of
all, to himself. A powerful Master Vampire. Someone whose name was feared both
by humans and demons, even with that damn bloody chip in his head. And he
needed absolutely no one, didn't he? He was proud and tried to repeat it with
every second, as he felt his life leaving him.
The
Scoobies had once more rejected him, and Buffy had once more made fun of him,
killing him more effectively than the bastard who had been his murderer, only
three hours ago. After an ordinary patrol, along with these selfish mortals
whose life he had once more saved, the local new Master Vampire's minions had
trapped him. Such a pitiful youngster, awfully and so commonly named Michael
Smith, could not lead the local community when a legend such as William the
Bloody, Angelus' Childe, was in the city, defying him by working for the Slayer
and killing his minions every single night. He had let his elder no chance, as
the coward had somehow found out about the poison the Mayor has previously used
against Angel. While his minions had attacked him all at once and where one by
one changed into dust, Mike had thrown a poisoned knife in Spike's back before
stepping back in the shadows.
A
burning sensation had travelled and settled all over Spike's body as he fell
hardly on the ground. His blood seemed to boil in his cold heart and brain as
fever overwhelmed him. His nerves all at once were bringing to his head a huge
and excruciating wall of pain threatening his consciousness. Weakness and pain
was his whole world now. And all hope had been wipped away pretty quickly and
harshly by his so-called allies.
The
Scooby gang, who had witnessed everything but done nothing to help him, had
then come forward. Amusement and joy could be seen on their face. Spike did not
need to read their mind to understand that they were overjoyed by the thought
of his coming death, he who had been their greatest enemy before he had been
forced to help them. They had never really accepted him among them, no matter
the number of times when he had saved their life. He was never a sentient being
to them, only a disturbance they were happy to finally get rid of. He could
still hear their cold analysis of the situation, when his despair had really
settled in his broken and lonely heart.
"Spike,
lazy pig, get up! We don't have the whole night!" was the first words he heard
from Buffy since the attack. Very comforting indeed!
To
weak already to even utter a reply, Spike shivered and the only sound that
crossed his lips was a very painful and pitiful moan. It was the enough to
prove to them that his condition was quite serious. He felt in a blur that he
was moved, turned on his stomach and the dagger brutally being removed from his
back. Apparently, the situation was not something new to them, as he vaguely
heard them discuss the diagnosis coldly in front of him.
"Poison,
I would say. The same that was used on Angel" came the voice of the ex-Watcher.
"I do not think that we even can try to save him, as we all know it would cost
us so dearly"
"You're
right, G-Man", exclaimed Xander, "I was already unhappy when we saved Dead
Boy's life. I don't even want to consider it for Dead Boy Junior"
"No
way he can have my blood,» proclaimed Buffy who remembered the time when she
had compelled her ex-lover to drink her blood in order to stop the poison that
was killing him. "This neutered dog can die for all I care,» she added in a
happy tone.
"Yes,
let's leave him here. Nothing we can do except let him suffer here for all the
crimes he have committed." Came the very judgmental reply from the little Red
Head. "Come on. We are bronzing tonight, you remember?" She added forgetting
already the dying man at her feet as she had promised Tara to join her at the
Club and was already late for their date.
And
so they went away, with a last ironical and cruel "Bye Spike, Have fun in
hell!" from the Slayer.
And
so his death sentence had come to him. Still conscious, but too weak to even
stake himself in order to end his suffering, he was waiting for the poison to
kill him or for the sun to turn him into dust, depending which one would come
first. The only thing left to him was thinking about his life, or better, his
unlife. The irony of his condition as a feared but neutered Master Vampire,
killed by his own kind and rejected by the one responsible for this attack
downed on him painfully. His awful loneliness since his Dark Goddess had
abandoned him was excruciating. And most of all his fear to die alone, with no
one caring for him and reassuring him in his last hour was overwhelming.
Once,
he remembered, his Sire, Angelus, who had claimed him as a son, and given him
the title of favoured childe, had promised him, when he had been badly hurt by
a slayer, that whatever happened, he would never be alone, he would be by his
side, watching over him till the end. This thought brought back to him his
conflicting feelings he had towards Angel. Feelings that were now melting in an
only thing: regret. From the moment the
older vampire had created him, his sire had been very loving and protective,
treating him as a son, his real and favoured heir. He had been his sire, his
teacher, his father, his master, his guide, his friend, and his killing buddy.
As a young vampire, Spike had had the most loving and protective sire a childe
could hope ever having.
But
then, the Day had come. This fateful day when gipsies had stolen his father
from him. This night, when a souled vampire, who pretended to care for him
despite all, had come to him, young William had not seen that need in his sire
eyes. He had only been repulsed by the unnatural creature and had rejected him
definitely. He had not understood. In order to forget his sorrow, he had come
to love Drusilla, his Dark Goddess, and had become a notorious Master Vampire.
He had proven that he did not need his sire anymore, his sire who was dead to
him. When, coming in Sunnydale, Spike had met Angel for the first time in a
century, it had been very hard on him and he had once more rejected him. He had
seen his sire helping his enemy against him, and it hurt badly. He had however
not seen that whatever he had done to his sire, Angel had not once really tried
to kill him, even when he had tortured him, twice in two years. He had not seen
the weary look his sire had whenever he had to side along his lover against his
childe, his son. But now, at his last hour, Spike understood all that and
longed to have Angel, his real and caring sire, with him, holding his hand
before he died, as he had promised a long time ago. To feel warm once more in
his father's love and secured in his arms. If only…
At
this same moment, when he finally realised what he had lost, his last wish was
granted to Spike. Angel, who had secretly been in Sunnydale in order to kill a
dangerous demon who had escaped from Los Angeles a few days earlier, had
finally found and slain the Chaos Demon in a dark crypt at the other side of
the cemetery. He was going to get back to his car when he had heard a strange
sound, like a soft and painful sob, from the East. Stepping closer carefully,
he froze at the sight that laid before him. A slim and blond haired figure he
immediately recognised as his dear childe's was shivering on the ground, nearly
unconscious but visibly in such a great pain that Angel heart broke instantly,
soul and demon both crying inward for Spike. He instinctively knew the despair
at the thought of loosing his dear son and fell to the ground, on his knees,
beside his dying childe.
A
quick examination revealed the gravity of the situation to the sorrowful Sire.
His Childe would soon be no more. And he did not know what to do to make things
better for Spike. Once, he had promised him to comfort him and watch over him
till the end. And Fate had allowed him to fulfil this heart-breaking oath.
Coming even nearer to Spike, Angel gently lifted his upper body and cradled him
against his chest, stroking gently his pale face and hair, murmuring comforting
words in his childe's ear hoping against reason that Spike would hear him and
come back, if only for a mere second. Enough to tell him goodbye… "No, my
childe, come back to me. I'll protect you, don't worry. I'll always be there
for you. I promised you that, remember ? Childe, come back to me….."
A
last hope, a last thought crossed his mind. Blood ritual could bring back the
most ill vampires. It had worked for Drusilla, why not on William. He could not
even imagine not trying it, even if in his mind, he knew that his favoured
Childe was already to far away. He was so pale, so weak already. Such a
sorrowful scene. Anyway, he had to do something, anything. In his panic, Angel
had to remember the gestures, the words. He had the faith that, even if it was
not entirely successful, the process would give a few more minutes with his
beloved son. Better than nothing.
Still
cradling his Childe's agonising body, Angel briefly and very gently bit into
Spike's wrist and swallowed a little mouthful of his blood, beginning the
sharing. He then quickly bit his own wrist and presented his blooded arm on his
Childe's mouth. Instinctively, Spike began swallowing the precious and powerful
nectar, the most delicious and nourishing thing he had ever had, his Sire's
blood. Words fell shakily from Angel mouth, continuing the ritual as he was
hardly remembering reading a rare spell book many years ago "Natus es a
sanguine meo, natus eris ex corpore meo. Amor victor morsque vincta est" (You
were born by my blood, you will be born from my body. Love wins and death
loses). He did not know the exact effects of the spell, but knew its goal was
to give back a dying favoured childe his life thanks to his sire help, blood
and love. "Please, let it work, please…"were his next words, just before he
looked down to his Childe's face, to see it for the last time.
Spike,
awake for one second, thanks to the century old powerful blood he had just
drunk, fixed loving eyes on Angel, telling him in his last murmured word all
his pain, regret and affection "Sire…" And with a smile on his face, happy at
least that his wish had been granted, that he had made his peace with his Sire
and with himself, he closed his eyes and went absolutely still in Angel's arms.
One second later, his body dissolved into dust as a very anguished cry raised
from his grieving sire's chest. "Noooooooo !"
Mentally shocked and emotionally painfully
exhausted, rocking himself back and forth, Angel was not aware of the light
that suddenly surrounded him for a whole minute. Lost in his grief and pain, he
did not know that a spark of life, or unlife for that matter, had impregnated
him. His beloved Childe he had just lost was back, growing slowly in him,
waiting to be reborn from his Sire, his true Father now.
*******
end part 1, part 2 soon I hope.
*******
Part
2
In that
moment Angel could feel his heart breaking. Memories were flowing back into his
mind, each one bringing up the joy of the proud sire and the sorrow of the
grieving father. He had lost his favoured childe, the one being he had
considered as his beloved son from the first time he had seen him. Back then
William had been a mere human, a young poet who was in great need of protection
and self-confidence. He seemed quite weak physically, but was strong mentally.
He was innocent, passionate and believed in his dreams, however foolish they
seemed. It did not matter what the stupid lads of the pubs of London told him,
he went on and on. Brave, beautiful, smart, and sensitive: Angelus had suddenly
understood that William would be a perfect childe, son, heir and friend. He
could protect him, teach him in his ways, and make William the perfect
companion.
And the
father like relationship and love between them had been so extraordinarily pure
and complete that when he had been cursed, his soul had not rejected it as evil
or as the sign of his crimes. He had never stopped loving him, always been
protective towards him, even when he was rejected time after time by Spike.
What he had had was so great, so rich, so overwhelming! And now… he could not
even cry over a body, as William's nature had prevented it, changing his dead
body into an awful dust heap, that was soon gone with the wind.
It was as
if the world had stopped and was crying with him for this immense loss. The
rain had started pouring from the sky, leaving Angel's face a path of mystic
tears. The wind seemed to lament for this heart breaking death, telling its
sympathy to the father, for the loss of his dear son. The nature around Angel
grieved with him. Both the soul and the demon shared the same anguish, the same
sorrow, and the same pain. They were united in this sad event as they had never
been before. He was constantly shifting from human face to game face, unable to
control the strength of his feelings. Angel had lost a son, Angelus had lost a
childe. And the pain was unbearable, almost physical. His chest was hurting
with suppressed sobs, his eyes, changing from chocolate to an angry yellow, could
not see anything through the wall of tears. Time seemed to have stopped at that
fateful moment.
Angel, in
his despair, did not know if anything could give him enough hope and reasons to
go on living. He had no one left. He had been driven farther and farther from
the girl he thought he loved more than his own life. Buffy now appeared as she
really was, a selfish little brat, unable to get past her own little desires
and wishes. No, he had no one who would love and understand him or most of all
try to comfort him and make the pain go away. Of course, he still had a Duty,
as a chosen Warrior for the Powers that Be. But right now, he could not see why
he should worry for the world when the world had stolen his precious childe
away from him.
What was left
for him to live for? He didn't know, because he could not see past the moment
when his heart had been ripped from his chest, in this cemetery where
everything had ended. For all that it all mattered, Angel could wait here for
the sun and hope to meet his childe in death once again. He had seen in this
last second, when Spike's eyes had suddenly opened, that love had taken the
place of the contempt, that his childe had finally understood and had been
ready to rejoin his dear sire once more. And then all had been blown away by
death. Maybe if he died too…
Those
extremely black thoughts were interrupted by voices he recognised somewhere
near him, behind the wall of the cemetery, in the street. He would not have
shown any attention to the disturbance if he had not heard the name of his late
childe. Angel forced himself to listen, hoping to finally learn what had
happened so he could do the only thing he had left to do: avenge his favoured
childe murder. His demon was pulling at his chains to get enough freedom to
accomplish this final goal. And the soul was most willing to let that happen.
"Four hours dancing and drinking at the
Bronze. That, my friends, is what I call life !" drunkenly exclaimed Xander,
before lowering his voice to a joyous whisper and asking Buffy and Willow
confidentially, "Four hours, do you think that he is dead now? Do you think
that Spike is finally history?"
"Oh yeah! And if not, the sun will finish
him! Don't worry, we didn't celebrate his death for nothing! Wow, what a good
night!" happily replied the Slayer.
"Yes, and we'll have to thank the new master,
Mike something, you know, for poisoning Spike. Such a good idea!" added Willow,
in a not so shy voice tainted by laughter.
"You're so right, Wills! I could not stand
him anymore. I swear, he was so irritating. He stole my radio after all! And
Giles who did not want us to kill him right away, humph…," Xander said
enthusiastically before assuming a British accent in order to do a
personification of the ex-watcher in lecture mode. "The chip implanted in his
brain by the initiative will prevent him from harming any human. So, well… we
should be safe. And his new need to feed, as he will not be able to hunt
anymore, will convince him, along with some kind of monetary gratifications, to
work for us. It will relieve you from a lot of stress, you know, Buffy…."
Xander then loosed his seriousness and burst into laughing mixed with sarcasm,
"Yeah, you're right, G-Man, now, we will be safe!"
"We could not have said better, Alexander Lavelle
Harris!" Buffy and Willow both said solemnly, before joining him in his drunken
laugh.
With these
last words, oblivious in their joy to the angry and sorrowful growls that
echoed behind the wall of the cemetery, the Scoobies went away, to where Angel
could no longer hear them. During this exchange, it had been hard for Angel to
stop Angelus going out and giving these spoiled children, these selfish, cruel,
stupid kids the harsh lesson they deserved. Torture them, kill them… what a
temptation. But now, for the pasts sake, he would not harm them. He would not
even confront them. He would just ignore them forever. They could cry for his
help, for his comfort, for his friendship, for his love, even, but he would do
absolutely nothing, as they had done nothing for his dying son. He would
abandon them to whatever might happen, and leave this fateful little town and
never come back to them.
Angel had
not understood everything, but that was really enough to make up his mind
definitely about them. His childe had been hurt, injured, incapacitated for who
knows how long. And they had tortured him even further, starving him,
threatening him. Hell, they had not even told him, his sire, for Christ sake !
He would have done something, anything for him, cured him, or at least try,
protected him. How his childe must have suffered mentally and physically from
this situation ! And worst, if they had not killed him, they had left him to
die alone ! To suffer alone ! But what were they ? Monsters ? His childe had
always been afraid to be alone. He had always craved for love and
companionship. Why else would have he stayed so long with his crazy sister ?
And worst, with that awful stupid bitch, Harmony ? And then, when he must have
been forced to seek their company and protection, the Scoobies had done that to
him, to His Childe !
Oh, no, he
would not reap their throats open and avenge his childe's abandonment in their
blood. They had left him, and he would definitely leave them! And he would
rejoice the day they were killed, hopefully painfully. If Angel did not let
Angelus have his ways with the Scoobies, he definitely agreed to let his demon
loose in order to avenge the murder of William the Bloody, favoured childe of
Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, the most feared Vampire of all times. This
little coward who pretended to be a Master Vampire and dared to poison his
elders would finally understand the right way to treat his enemies. Angelus
would teach this vampire, Mike, (what a jerk name, that was), and all his clan!
Such a pity that this Mike would not be there, after the lesson!
With that
last decision, Angel left the cemetery to accomplish the last mission he would
ever have in Sunnydale.
******end
part 2