Spike pulled the long arms of the hooded sweatshirt Gunn had leant him over his arms, fumbling for a moment with the digits he'd broken earlier. Fred had insisted on taping them together so they would heal straight. He shivered and bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering.
In the room before him Fred was kneeling by the bed he and Gunn had placed Angel's limp body on. She had covered him up and was checking to make sure there was nothing serious damaged on his body.
"He gonna be all right?" he asked as she stood.
"I'm not really qualified for this kinda thing," she said shyly. "but I think he should be. He just needs to rest and drink plenty of…blood. Get his strength back. He should be good as new."
"His own son sunk him in the ocean," Spike said softly. "He's never gonna be like new."
Fred lost her smile and nodded. "I'll just go heat up some blood."
Spike watched her go and ran a hand through his still slightly wet hair. He walked hesitantly to the bed and kicked the frame lightly. "Wakey, wakey."
The older vampire's eyes flickered.
"Come on," Spike urged. "You're not dead. Time t'get up."
"Spike," Angel hissed, opening his eyes.
"Miss me?" Spike said humorlessly.
"Like a hole in the chest," Angel answered weakly, struggling to sit up.
Spike debated helping him, decided against it.
"Why are you here?" Angel asked, leaning against the headboard.
"This is the thanks I get for saving your life?" he asked with a faint smirk.
"That wasn't a dream?" Angel muttered in confusion, wiping sweat from his pale face. "You…what the hell happened to you? Your hair…and you look like a skeleton."
"Look who's talking!" Spike said indignantly, looking down at himself. It was true. He was way too skinny; all his clothes hung off his frame now.
Angel looked down at himself, his rubs sticking out, his collar bone pronounced, all bones. "Damn. You're right."
Spike huffed. "Course I am."
Remembering his hatred for Spike, Angel looked sharply at him. "Why are you here, Spike?"
A haunted look crossed his gaunt face, then he sucked in an unneeded breath. "I can for some advice. Found you in an ocean. You always were one for the drama."
Angel scowled.
"Come on now. Not out of the water three hours and you're already brooding?" Spike taunted.
"Advice on what, Spike?" Angel said in a tone that clearly said 'you're testing my patience'.
There was that look again.
He looked down at his bare feet, wishing he had socks. "Advice on…on-"
"Fresh blood!" Fred's chipper voice announced as she carried two mugs into the room. "Oh! You're awake! Angel!"
A smile crossed Angel's face and Spike shied back.
"Fred. Fred. It's good to see you. Where's Gunn? And Cordy?" he asked, accepting the mug and drinking deeply.
Fred paused for a moment, offering the other cup to Spike.
"No thanks, love," he said, eyes on Angel.
She nodded, turned back to Angel. "Gunn's downstairs. Cordy…we haven't seen her since the night you went missing."
Angel's face clouded. "She's…missing?"
"Uh...not exactly so," Spike said.
"What?" Fred and Angel said in synch.
"She's…around," he said carefully. "She said she'd explain it in time…"
Fred looked surprised. "Really?"
"You're not lying, Spike?" Angel seethed.
"No, not lying," he said softly. "In fact, she's the one who helped me find…what I needed to find you."
He send Spike an odd look, but nodded. "So, she's coming back?"
"She didn't clarify it that much," Spike said.
He nodded again.
"Well…" Fred said slowly. "I'm going to go downstairs and tell Gunn the good news."
She took Angel's two empty mugs and exited hurriedly.
Angel turned his attention on Spike again. "Advice on what?"
"You never bloody forget, do you?" he said ruefully.
"No."
"How do you deal with it, Angel?" Spike asked sadly.
Shocked by the tone in his voice as well as the fact that Spike had actually used his name and not some variation of "poof", Angel stammered, "W-what? Deal with what?"
Spike's look was one of anguish. "Living. Knowing what you did…before?"
Angel gave a short laugh. "William the Bloody finally grown a conscience?"
When the angry look he'd expected was replaced with one of more pain, Angel was silent.
"No," Spike finally answered. "A soul. But hey, same thing, right?"
He was silent.
Finally he managed to choke out. "Soul?"
"Right," Spike sneered. "Give the man a bloody prize!"
Now THERE was the Spike he knew. "How the hell did this happen?"
Spike laughed. "Funniest story. Really something to make your mates laugh next time you're at a bar. Knew of a bloke in Africa, went to see him about a matter. Then there's some fighting, some nasty bugs, and some more fighting, not necessarily in that order. I was too out of it to make much sense. Next thing I know this guy's got his hand on my chest and poof! Soul."
Angel absorbed this. "You better not be lying."
"What would I have to gain?" Spike asked with a shake of his head. "I'm pretty sure I don't hate you enough to go through all that set up. I'm not that patient. 'Sides, I saved your life. You at least owe it to me to believe me."
"Why the hell would you ask for a soul?" Angel said suspiciously.
"I didn't!" Spike exploded. "I didn't ask for this bleeding soul! I wanted something entirely different! Fates just love screwing with me, eh? Can you just answer my fucking question!?"
"Calm down," Angel said. "I deal with it by helping others, Spike. By not being the same man I was. With help from my friends."
"Problem is," Spike said. "I'm still the man I was, deep down. And I've got no friends to help me. So what do I do?"
He sat in silence. "I don't know."
Spike snorted, sitting in the easy chair by the wall. "Right. Of course."
"How did this all start, Spike?" Angel asked a while later.
"With love, mate. Love," Spike said, not elaborating. "But I figure types like us, maybe we're meant to die alone."
"Dad?"
Spike's head shot up at the sudden intrusion.
Angel was staring at the door in shock.
"C…Stephen," Angel said hoarsely.
"It's Connor," the boy said, swallowing hard. "I'm Connor…"
"Course, I've been known to be wrong," Spike said, slipping silently from the room as Connor approached his father.
He smiled a sorrowful smile.
"Maybe it's just me who's meant to die alone," he whispered.
"Buffy!" Dawn cried up the stairs. "Have you seen my jacket?"
"In the basement," her sister called back. "It's got blood on the sleeve, remember?"
Dawn turned quickly to her friend Janice. "Fake blood, duh. Xander's old friend was here filming a movie for his student class. I got to be the first murder victim."
Janice nodded. "Cool. How'd you go?"
"Sword," Dawn said quickly. "It was…uh, really cool."
Janice grinned. "So do I get to see the movie when it's done?"
"I hope," Dawn lied. "It was awesome."
It seemed to her that she was lying a lot more these days. And she was getting better and better at it. Like when she told Buffy she didn't cry over Spike.
"Let's go," Dawn said as she grabbed one of Buffy's jackets from the closet.
"Dawn?" Janice asked when her friend faltered. "Whoa, cool jacket. Who's is it?"
Dawn touched the black leather duster fondly. "It was…it was a good friends."
"Was…not sounding good," Janice said.
"He's gone now," Dawn said shutting the closet firmly. "No biggie."
Another convincing lie.
Damn, she was good.
In the room before him Fred was kneeling by the bed he and Gunn had placed Angel's limp body on. She had covered him up and was checking to make sure there was nothing serious damaged on his body.
"He gonna be all right?" he asked as she stood.
"I'm not really qualified for this kinda thing," she said shyly. "but I think he should be. He just needs to rest and drink plenty of…blood. Get his strength back. He should be good as new."
"His own son sunk him in the ocean," Spike said softly. "He's never gonna be like new."
Fred lost her smile and nodded. "I'll just go heat up some blood."
Spike watched her go and ran a hand through his still slightly wet hair. He walked hesitantly to the bed and kicked the frame lightly. "Wakey, wakey."
The older vampire's eyes flickered.
"Come on," Spike urged. "You're not dead. Time t'get up."
"Spike," Angel hissed, opening his eyes.
"Miss me?" Spike said humorlessly.
"Like a hole in the chest," Angel answered weakly, struggling to sit up.
Spike debated helping him, decided against it.
"Why are you here?" Angel asked, leaning against the headboard.
"This is the thanks I get for saving your life?" he asked with a faint smirk.
"That wasn't a dream?" Angel muttered in confusion, wiping sweat from his pale face. "You…what the hell happened to you? Your hair…and you look like a skeleton."
"Look who's talking!" Spike said indignantly, looking down at himself. It was true. He was way too skinny; all his clothes hung off his frame now.
Angel looked down at himself, his rubs sticking out, his collar bone pronounced, all bones. "Damn. You're right."
Spike huffed. "Course I am."
Remembering his hatred for Spike, Angel looked sharply at him. "Why are you here, Spike?"
A haunted look crossed his gaunt face, then he sucked in an unneeded breath. "I can for some advice. Found you in an ocean. You always were one for the drama."
Angel scowled.
"Come on now. Not out of the water three hours and you're already brooding?" Spike taunted.
"Advice on what, Spike?" Angel said in a tone that clearly said 'you're testing my patience'.
There was that look again.
He looked down at his bare feet, wishing he had socks. "Advice on…on-"
"Fresh blood!" Fred's chipper voice announced as she carried two mugs into the room. "Oh! You're awake! Angel!"
A smile crossed Angel's face and Spike shied back.
"Fred. Fred. It's good to see you. Where's Gunn? And Cordy?" he asked, accepting the mug and drinking deeply.
Fred paused for a moment, offering the other cup to Spike.
"No thanks, love," he said, eyes on Angel.
She nodded, turned back to Angel. "Gunn's downstairs. Cordy…we haven't seen her since the night you went missing."
Angel's face clouded. "She's…missing?"
"Uh...not exactly so," Spike said.
"What?" Fred and Angel said in synch.
"She's…around," he said carefully. "She said she'd explain it in time…"
Fred looked surprised. "Really?"
"You're not lying, Spike?" Angel seethed.
"No, not lying," he said softly. "In fact, she's the one who helped me find…what I needed to find you."
He send Spike an odd look, but nodded. "So, she's coming back?"
"She didn't clarify it that much," Spike said.
He nodded again.
"Well…" Fred said slowly. "I'm going to go downstairs and tell Gunn the good news."
She took Angel's two empty mugs and exited hurriedly.
Angel turned his attention on Spike again. "Advice on what?"
"You never bloody forget, do you?" he said ruefully.
"No."
"How do you deal with it, Angel?" Spike asked sadly.
Shocked by the tone in his voice as well as the fact that Spike had actually used his name and not some variation of "poof", Angel stammered, "W-what? Deal with what?"
Spike's look was one of anguish. "Living. Knowing what you did…before?"
Angel gave a short laugh. "William the Bloody finally grown a conscience?"
When the angry look he'd expected was replaced with one of more pain, Angel was silent.
"No," Spike finally answered. "A soul. But hey, same thing, right?"
He was silent.
Finally he managed to choke out. "Soul?"
"Right," Spike sneered. "Give the man a bloody prize!"
Now THERE was the Spike he knew. "How the hell did this happen?"
Spike laughed. "Funniest story. Really something to make your mates laugh next time you're at a bar. Knew of a bloke in Africa, went to see him about a matter. Then there's some fighting, some nasty bugs, and some more fighting, not necessarily in that order. I was too out of it to make much sense. Next thing I know this guy's got his hand on my chest and poof! Soul."
Angel absorbed this. "You better not be lying."
"What would I have to gain?" Spike asked with a shake of his head. "I'm pretty sure I don't hate you enough to go through all that set up. I'm not that patient. 'Sides, I saved your life. You at least owe it to me to believe me."
"Why the hell would you ask for a soul?" Angel said suspiciously.
"I didn't!" Spike exploded. "I didn't ask for this bleeding soul! I wanted something entirely different! Fates just love screwing with me, eh? Can you just answer my fucking question!?"
"Calm down," Angel said. "I deal with it by helping others, Spike. By not being the same man I was. With help from my friends."
"Problem is," Spike said. "I'm still the man I was, deep down. And I've got no friends to help me. So what do I do?"
He sat in silence. "I don't know."
Spike snorted, sitting in the easy chair by the wall. "Right. Of course."
"How did this all start, Spike?" Angel asked a while later.
"With love, mate. Love," Spike said, not elaborating. "But I figure types like us, maybe we're meant to die alone."
"Dad?"
Spike's head shot up at the sudden intrusion.
Angel was staring at the door in shock.
"C…Stephen," Angel said hoarsely.
"It's Connor," the boy said, swallowing hard. "I'm Connor…"
"Course, I've been known to be wrong," Spike said, slipping silently from the room as Connor approached his father.
He smiled a sorrowful smile.
"Maybe it's just me who's meant to die alone," he whispered.
"Buffy!" Dawn cried up the stairs. "Have you seen my jacket?"
"In the basement," her sister called back. "It's got blood on the sleeve, remember?"
Dawn turned quickly to her friend Janice. "Fake blood, duh. Xander's old friend was here filming a movie for his student class. I got to be the first murder victim."
Janice nodded. "Cool. How'd you go?"
"Sword," Dawn said quickly. "It was…uh, really cool."
Janice grinned. "So do I get to see the movie when it's done?"
"I hope," Dawn lied. "It was awesome."
It seemed to her that she was lying a lot more these days. And she was getting better and better at it. Like when she told Buffy she didn't cry over Spike.
"Let's go," Dawn said as she grabbed one of Buffy's jackets from the closet.
"Dawn?" Janice asked when her friend faltered. "Whoa, cool jacket. Who's is it?"
Dawn touched the black leather duster fondly. "It was…it was a good friends."
"Was…not sounding good," Janice said.
"He's gone now," Dawn said shutting the closet firmly. "No biggie."
Another convincing lie.
Damn, she was good.
