by Clueless One
Rating: R
Disclaimers: BTVS & Angel belong to Joss Whedon, ME, UPN, and WB respectively. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
Summary: Spike returns to Sunnydale after a lay over in the City of Angels. Buffy and Dawn are getting their lives sorted out; Willow is back from her detox in England. Xander and Anya move on with their lives hoping to discover whether they're traveling the same path. Meanwhile one of the Old Ones wake, and begins searching for her bloodline, and reclaiming her family. She's old as mankind Hell-bent on restoring the world to the way it was when she last walked upon it, and seeking revenge on the one who was created to destroy her: The Slayer.
Spoilers: All of Season Six of BtVS and Three of AtS set in an Alternate Season Seven and Four respectively.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews they are very much appreciated :)
Chapter Three: Who and what we are.
"I'm good, I'm evil. Two sides of the coin and I've been blessed with both. On one hand I am you, but I don't like you. I guess that's the nature of the way things work." Anthrax - Fueled
They had walked to the newly rebuilt Magic Box only a few blocks from the Bronze in relative silence. The boy was walking along with Dawn leading the way. Spike could tell they were speaking, but was unable to make out what it was they were saying. He was staying in step with Buffy and staying away from the two teens. Her silence was getting to him as they entered the closed building and Dawn and the boy sat at one of the tables.
Standing in the corner, lighting a cigarette, he took in the changes to the layout of the store, it was better, he thought, more space in it since being rebuilt. Absently he watched the kid sitting there with his Nibblet. Something was off about him. Bloke smelled human, but there was something familiar and unnerving, hiding underneath that scent. The boy was staring at his hands and twiddling his fingers almost nervously with Dawn whispering in his ear again. They both had drying blood covering their clothing, yet thankfully it didn't smell like either of theirs. Buffy came out of the back with bandages and a first aide kit.
"I'm not good at this," she sheepishly said, looking almost embarrassed. "I'm usually the one getting stitched up. Here, let me see how bad the two of you are hurt?" Buffy asked them surprising Spike with the tenderness of her voice. Usually she was commanding.
"I'm fine Buffy. The blood's just from one of the vamps." Dawn groaned. "Sore though."
She moved over to the boy. "How about you."
"I'll be fine...uh thanks but I'm just bruised a little it'll heal."
"You really should let us check to see if you're ok." Dawn suggested. The boy shook his head in protest, clenching his jaw. "I was there Steven, I saw how hard you were hit, and you can't be all right." That seemed to settle it for Buffy who reached out to pull the boys shirt up. He flinched taking a sharp breath as Buffy touched him. When the shirt was up Spike was slightly taken aback by the kids chest and sternum. It was covered in splotches of purple, black, and blue, there were also yellowed traces of older bruises and several small scars crisscrossing his skin. His back wasn't any better and when she saw it Dawn looked horrified.
Steven lowered his head. "See just some bruises nothing serious. They'll be healed in a few days."
"Like bloody 'ell." Spike breathed. Steven shot him a murderous glance so he shut back up. It was obvious the kid hated him simply for being a vampire. Best not to push things.
"Maybe we should take you to the hospital so they can see if you have any internal injuries. Wait...um..." Buffy rubbed her temple. "What's your phone number so I can call your parents, let them know where to pick you up at?"
He pulled his shirt down. "I don't have parents."
"Oh. Then who takes care of you? I can call them?"
"I take care of myself." He stood up. "Thanks for helping me and everything, but I'm fine."
"No you're not fine." This wasn't going well, and Buffy was getting that pissed of look he was so often used to seeing her with. "Do you have a place to stay?" Her voice had lowered a little.
He shook his head.
"You can stay here. There's a room in the back with a bed." Dawn interjected, Buffy glared at her.
"I can find a place."
"No." She shook her head. "Dawn's right. Plus it's not safe to be out alone in this town at night."
"I can handle it."
"What if you get attacked again?"
"I wasn't the one they were attacking." He said defensively.
"Steven." Dawn placed her hand on his shoulder pulling him back to his seat. His breathing calmed and his heart rate slowed. "I was the one they attacked Buffy. He showed up and helped me. You should have seen him fight. He's even stronger then me. I mean like Slayer strong." Buffy's eyes widened darting between Dawn and Steven. "It was so cool."
"Pretty," he seemed to fumble over the word, "cool yourself when you ripped that one's throat out." he said quietly.
"I lost my stake," she was looking at Buffy embarrassed. "But it so much cooler when he put his fist through that one's chest. What killed it anyway?"
"I crushed its heart."
"How." Buffy seemed confused. "My Spidey sense isn't tingling but no human's that strong."
Oh sodding hell! The brat's strength, his age, even his name. Suddenly he placed the kid's scent, what it reminded him of, and now that he knew what to look for he could see the resemblance. The goofy grin, quiet broodish way he sat, and Angelus' dangerous confidence hidden behind his eyes. Even his movements screamed Angelus. "He's human, Love. Though he's not normal…are you Connor?"
He jumped up instantly in a fighting stance. His hands gripped the chair, flipped it over, and with a twist the leg was broken off into a jagged makeshift stake. "How? Who are you?" He felt Buffy tense saw her stand ready for a fight.
"Name's Spike, but you know that already. I don't want to fight just to talk to you about what's happened."
"You're a vampire. Why should I let you live long enough to talk?"
"Because I'm asking you to." Dawn said.
"I-I don't know who any of you are. How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't." Dawn said reaching out to him. "That's what faith is." She flashed him a quick smile. "I've only just met you, but you saved me, and I want to trust you. I want you to trust me."
"Spike? What is going on?"
He held up his hand. "I'll explain later love." He turned to Connor. "Boy, I think you and I need to have a talk. Alone."
"You want to talk demon? Do it now." He never lowered the stake.
Spike moved over to Buffy. "Pet would"
"Absolutely not. I want to know what's going on."
"Bloody Hell! Be sure not to stake the messenger love. Ladies meet Connor Ange-"
"My name demon, is Steven Holtz."
"No Uncle, if you're gonna act like a damn ponce about it your rightful name in the Poof's native Gaelic is Conchobhar Ó Raigain, but if you want me to call you Steven instead of Connor fine. Sure as hell don't go by my given name. Buffy, Steven, Steven, Buffy. You seem pretty acquainted with Dawn already." He faced Buffy. "Remember how I said you needed to talk to the Poof earlier tonight Slayer? Here's why. Steven here, is the reason Angel was locked to rot in a watery grave. 'e's also his son." He was mad. Mad at the kid for forcing him into telling everyone this. Angry at Buffy for staying when he asked her to leave. Hell he was even pissed at Dawn for finding the bastard and making this his problem.
"Oh my God!" The loud crack of a slap rung out in the shop. Connor was holding his cheek and Buffy was backing away. "You did that to Angel?"
Forcing himself to calm down, Spike shook his head. Soon as she hears something she doesn't like straight to fighting it, hoping it will go away, he thought. "Hold on Slayer. Now don't go off on him till you hear everything he's been through as well."
"Wait his son? Someone had better fill me in. Now!" Buffy demanded.
Steven sat back down. "Well it's like this..."
***
Lilith woke, a little over an hour before sunset, removing the limbs that had intertwined themselves around her the day before from her body, she stretched on the plush mattress of the massive bed, a smile slowly forming on dark full lips that were still slightly bruised and swollen from activities earlier that day. Things were so much more comfortable now then they were when she last remembered. Peering about the room, and taking in its entire splendor she sighed happily. The finest hotel in Egypt, the finest room. In the corner the man and woman whom the room had belonged to lay dead. The finest foods. She stroked Rebecca's auburn hair. Lightly she roamed the side of the fledglings face with her nails, then down her neck, and over her shoulder grazing her breast. Behind her she felt Thurston wake. The finest company.
Such things had never concerned her before. Back then it had always been about survival, the dominance of her kind, simple sexual desires, and the kill. Nothing seemed to matter more than the kill, but now? Well, priorities had changed slightly. There was so much pleasure in this world, so very much it had to offer. Thousands of years locked away trapped underground it brought a new appreciation to her. Or it may have been a side effect of draining that researcher's mind. Perhaps some of the girl's vanity and earthly wants had carried over with her memories and understanding of this world. Either way to Lilith it didn't matter.
The Hunt had been marvelous that night. So many beautiful morsels to choose from, and they had feasted on the youngest tenderest they could find."Shh." She silenced her childre who were rambling on to each other. "I feel them, our kindred, the sons and the daughters of my blood." She let the call of the blood lead her, walking into an old shop she entered the backroom, began walking down to the cellar which led into the catacombs beneath, and to the door of the nest.
"Who are you to walk in here?" A short and filthy little man screamed in Arabic. She ignored him, but he stepped in front of her. His hand violently grabbing hold of her arm. "Name yourself." He brought the point of a short spear to her chest.
She smiled her eyes changing to gold. "Seru." She whispered and the vampire flew back through the door. "Ana simtim aluku." He exploded into dust. "Too simple too weak of mind." She frowned. A dozen or more vampires sat in the dark room. Humans walking back and forth in various stages of dress offering money for the vampires to feed upon them. She tried to contain her anger. "Who sired that fledgling?"
"I did, but he was no fledgling. He was over seventy years when-" Her left hand shot out grabbing him, and lifting him into the air.
"Thurston, Rebecca, kill them. All of them." Holding the small man Lilith watched her Childre slaughter the nest of fledglings and humans. It was over quickly. "I will ask this but once. Who is the master of this city?"
"Tarik." He coughed.
"Take me to him."
"I cannot he will kill me if I do."
"You will take me to this 'Tarik' or I will be the one to kill you." She ground her right thumb into his chest. "Slowly."
It had taken less then an hour to reach Tarik's lair. Less then twenty minutes to dispose of the guards and minions he had employed. She opened the doors of the dining hall; to see him sitting at a table, with plates of human food laid out before him. Such a shame, such a waste. The rich smell of human blood hung in the air, and she knew the food had been seasoned with it. Pitiful. "Tarik."
"I told him to send in the entertainment after I finished my meal. And you will address me as Master." Tarik stood looking at her and licked his lips. "Never mind the food." His voice was low almost a purr. "I suddenly have a taste for something else." He approached her with a swagger to his step then reached out pulling her to him. She wrapped her fingers in the dark thick curls atop his head. As he moved in to kiss her she spun around behind him slamming his face into the table. The sound of bone and shattering wood filled the dinning hall followed by Tarik letting out a howl of pain and rage. She smashed his head into the broken wood again. Furious over what he had allowed here.
"You dare call yourself a Master?" She backhanded him sending him to the ground. "You offer deals with humans, the bliss of our embrace, and in return they provide your brethren's nourishment and money. You have forsaken The Hunt and now have made yourselves dependant upon given blood." She spat. "You are dirt. Nothing more." Her fist crashed into his face. She tasted the blood on her hands. It was old and strong, and in it was the history of his line. "You disgraced the Line of Kractioses. A favored son no less! Look at you. You are as bad as the rest. You have forgotten who you are. What you are. Why you are here." She swept her knee into his face. "You disgust me. Has so much changed in the years I was gone? Have our kind fallen so low as to resort to whoring ourselves to lowly humans." She dropped him turning to leave. Preparing a spell that would level the place. He had not even put up a fight.
She stopped hearing him stand up slowly, and turned to see him holding a piece of the shattered wooden table in his hand. The fool lunged for her driving it into her chest. The pain was exquisite. She laughed while pulling it out. He had found the nerve to fight after all. "What manner of treachery is this?" he asked backing away.
"I have...evolved over the years. Become...more powerful then you could begin to fathom."
"Who are you?"
She opened her wrist with her fingernail. "Taste and you will see."
He took her wrist to his mouth them dropped it stumbling backward. She licked the wound closed. "Mistress."
"Starting now there shall be no quarter to humans here. Any who are suitable to be Childre shall be brought over. I want them strong. Any too weak to survive on their own destroyed. The rest is food. Understand?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Tell me Tarik what do you know of the Slayer?"
"Little, very little Mistress. Only rumors that some say that there now are two. That only one is active, the one who has died and yet lives. It is whispered that she is unbeatable. She has nearly become legendary." Lilith smiled at that.
"Where is she?"
"America, She has claimed the Hellmouth."
"You will arrange a flight for my companions and myself to America. Preferably somewhere close to the Hellmouth. Somewhere large enough for me to make proper preparations. I wish to leave before the dawn."
"As you command."
***
Tears were nothing new to Buffy Summers especially lately, but usually she could control them. Now after a year of wanting to feel something, she finely did. She felt but the emotional control that she once had was gone. That's why she found herself in the alleyway behind the Magic Box, sitting on the cool cement, at three-thirty Sunday morning crying.
She had sat in there and listened to Steven tell of his life growing up in a Hell Dimension, and felt her heart breaking over what the poor boy had been through. She had also listened to Spike telling some of the things Angel had recently experienced. It hurt her that Angel hadn't at least called to tell her he had a son. That he wouldn't ask for her help. And yes, it hurt that he had a son. A son with Darla no less. She wiped her eyes.
She had loved him, in some way she imagined she always would, but it was never a love meant to be. She could see that now. It wasn't just the curse in the way anymore, it was themselves. She was not the innocent girl he had fallen in love with, but then he wasn't the same either. Their meeting after she came back had been a disaster, and had proven how much each of them had changed. The pangs she had felt seeing him again, remembering what it was like to be in his arms, knowing she was loved, and not afraid to love him in return hurt more then she could comprehend. It hurt. Just seeing him hurt, because at that very moment, as he walked into the Motor Inn where they had agreed to meet, she realized that's all this could ever be between them. They would meet and hold each other shedding tears as they proclaimed their everlasting love that could never be. In the end they would go their separate ways. It sucked. The whole meeting had been one long emotional angst-fest that neither one really seemed to want to have. They left angry and frustrated with each other, and she became conscious of the fact that the entire time she had no desire to go to him, to be with him, and hold him. There had been no physical interaction between them just awkward silences, awkward conversation, and an awkward fight with an awkward apology at the end.
Yes she loved him, always would, but she was no longer in love with him.
A slight tingle pulsated down her spine telling her a vampire was near, and a small smile slowly twitched the corner of her lips. It wasn't just the feeling of a vampire, it was her feeling Spike. That had always wigged her out, the way her body reacted to him, sensed him, and she never thought she would miss it. She had though. For four months she had missed it. Missed him. He had seen her at her worst, yet still loved her. Yes she admitted again, it was love. She couldn't deny that any longer, but he was still a creature of evil. He had changed, she granted him that. She trusted him with her life as well as her sister's, but could she trust him enough to...
The door squeaked. "Lo pet. You ok now?" He sat directly across from her, in the same manner as she. His back against the other building, knees raised, and his hands resting on them before he lit another cigarette.
"It just hurts you know? That Angel didn't tell me."
"Yeah. Old man's a wanker."
"Spike."
"Well 'e is."
"How's Steven?"
"He's staying, I think he's tired of runnin', he has a death wish love. I can feel it as strongly as the slayers I killed. Said for me to keep my distance if I didn't want to live in the ashtray, but he trusts Dawn. And you. He doesn't want the Poofter here though."
"Is he safe...for Dawn to be around?"
"If you forget he's a walking hormone, who keeps staring at the 'Bit like a piece of meat. He's a good kid. That's his problem though. Between Quor-toth and Holtz his head is fucked up. Everything is black and white for him. Good or evil, there was no room for anything in between. Now that he knows there is he doesn't want to face it."
"You mean there actually is a middle ground?" She lowered her eyes, he had looked hurt by that.
"Yeah Slayer there is. Look at Clem can you honestly tell me he's evil?" She shook her head. Clem was anything but evil. Clumsy, sweet, caring, but not evil. "Then there are blokes like Angelus's mate Lorne, and even Cordelia's part demon now. How about Whistler or that Irish bloke Doyle that had the visions? He gave his bloody life fighting for the Powers and saving Angelus. Or even the wolf-boy you lot kept around." He flicked his cigarette down the alley.
He was right. "And there's you."
"No Slayer," he said sadly. "I am a creature of evil. I'm a monster remember? I've done more damage, took more lives then...Kid's right about me." He stood abruptly. "It's late, best you and your sis get home, so you can see if Connor's still here in the morning. G'night Love."
"Spike wait." Too late he was gone. She felt the tears coming again, but this time they weren't for her, but for Spike. Something was wrong with him, something bad. She could feel it, but she wasn't sure what it was. She remembered when she first had seen him last night, that defeated look he had, it was the same way he looked tonight when he left. Oh god she was crying because something was wrong with Spike. She didn't want to think of what that meant. Bad enough what she had done in the cemetery. No. Those were thoughts to settle later when her head was clear. She wiped her eyes and went inside.
***
...The little girl was looking at him, with large frightened brown eyes. The smell of her fear was filling him with an intoxicating euphoria. "Pwease don' ow! Oww!" She screamed, and he laughed watching his Dark Princess kneeling on the floor feeding from the child. On the Telly Liverpool had just beat Man U 2-1 to win the Milk Cup at Wembley. Dru released the girl, who could be no more then ten, and let her fall to the floor with a quiet thud. She crawled over to where he sat, blood covered her dribbling down her chin. He leaned down to her, licking it up, then claimed her mouth with his. The girl's blood was still hot and so sweet... He growled. Their tongues danced together beads of blood forming from tiny slices caused by razor sharp fangs. Fingernails racked across his cheek then he was being pushed back into the chair. All thoughts of football were gone as she ripped at his belt, pulled at the button of his jeans and yanked them down, her cool wet mouth taking him in. Eyes closed he moaned her name. When he opened his eyes they locked on the dead girls lifeless brown orbs. He looked away from her accusing gaze...
...Spike thrashed in the bed, blankets tangling in his legs as he drew himself into a ball. The silence of the empty mansion was replaced by soft whimpers. Tears flowed down his cheek unabated in his fitful restless slumber...
...His sisters blood was only inches from him and he wanted it. Needed it. He fought the desire to give in. He felt Darla's elbow driving into his spin as she forced his head up to watch the carnage. He lay on his stomach unable to move, Darla overpowering him. He thrashed, snarled, and fought with every once of his newfound demonic strength, but the bitch was too strong. His mother and two brothers were tied helpless in the den of the small house being forced to watch. Angelus lay on his back, propped by his elbows. His sister, Colleen, lay weeping, gagged, hands tied, among them. Cuts and scrapes marred her violated body. "Ye lied to me boy." Angelus growled into his ear, and smeared a bit of the blood on his lips forcing him to taste it. "Ye should have done this if ye had wished mercy for them, ye could have made it quick. Painless. I won't."
"I-I- I'll do it."
"Too late I think. Time ye learnt a lesson."
"Fuck you." he panted.
"Maybe later boy if Darla feels up to a bit o' a game," he smirked. "T'won't be me that's getting fucked though. He shuddered remembering from the night before the kinds of games Angelus enjoyed. And how Darla liked to watch...
"I don't understand you William, you're a vampire. They're human. Why did you lie. Why not kill them?" Darla asked.
"'Cause I love them."
"Love?" Angelus laughed. "Love? Christ that loon found an entertaining one." His voice lowed into a dark husky Irish draw. {Ye are going to be so much fun to break, young William." One by one Angelus took his family in front of him. Torturing them, raping them, repeatedly. For days most likely, though it felt more like weeks, he couldn't really tell in the hunger-induced daze he was kept him in. Chained to the wall or being held down by Darla, William was forced to watch every depraved act, and the more he watched the more a part of him was beginning to enjoy it. Finally, weak and starving, Angelus offered Colleen to him: he drank. She was his first human kill and the first blood he had in days, and it was his fourteen-year-old sister. Still it was empowering, invigorating, and he thirsted for more. "Good, now the rest of them William."
He looked at him unsure, behind him Darla and Drusilla entered the room. "They're my family."
"No. We're your family now lad. C'mon finish up, times a wasting and there is so much more to teach ye." Then he saw it. Something he had never seen on his own father's face. Pride. He turned facing his mother and his brothers, glanced back towards Angelus and Dru, and made his choice.
Spike bolted up in bed, tried to stand, but fell to the floor. He scurried against the wall and scrounged himself together, rocking back and forth. "Oh God...How could I have..." He buried his head in his hands, and wept.