Chapter XI: The Hellmouth

Before he even had to time to think, the vampire was upon him.

Grabbing at his lapels and lifting him into the air in one effortless movement, Angel stared up into his face with undisguised venom. His eyes narrowed, flashing from brown to gold, and for the first time in his relatively short memory Spike understood exactly what it felt like to be something's prey. Smiling, his captor shifted his grip a little, hoisting him higher and suddenly his fear turned to fury.

"Oi! Put me down youpillock!"

Angrily he pulled at the larger man's hands, aiming a kick at his groin. Moving his body slightly to one side, the vampire only shook his head, making a soft tutting sound. Outside the circle he could see Buffy's face, angry and confused as she silently rained blows on the invisible barrier now surrounding them. Looking her way, Angel frowned,

"Can you believe that? She's actually worried about you!"

He shook his head,

"I just don't get it you know. I mean you give up everything for a woman. You give her up because you think she deserves so much better, and then the guy she chooses" a cold laugh, "The guy she chooses is everything you know she doesn't needand more."

His grip shifted to Spike's shoulders, still holding him up a foot or so above the ground, but less painfully. Pushing his face in closer to his captive audience, he glared at him.

"I mean, let's not pretend I was ever kidding myself about it, I always knew there was never going to be a happy ending, not for the two of us anyway. But for her? Sure Finn was a jerk, and I'm pretty sure that whole virginal 'farm-boy' thing was an act, but hey! He really seemed to care about her, and at least his organs weren't necrotizing."

"What the hell!!"

"And then there's this whole prophecy gig I've been holding out for. 'The vampire with a soul will shanshu after the great battle'. I mean it's not too much to ask for is it? Forty years maybe of mortality in exchange for a hundred years suffering for something I couldn't even control, and you know the real kicker is, I don't even care anymore if it's with Buffy or not. I'm past caring. I'd settle for nothing. Anything! Just something other than this" his eyes flitted out and around him, taking in the hotel, the city, his whole surroundings, "this endless parade of crap, day in and day out. 'What do we do Angel?','How do we fight it, Angel?', 'Hey, are you evil again, Angel?', 'Who's Connor, Angel?'"

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.

"You tell yourself that it's all gonna end, someday. Someday you'll have something else, some kind of peace maybeor at least a life that isn't just about.death."

Resigned now to being held aloft forever, Spike finally stopped struggling and drew a deep hissing breath of discomfort. If the big glowery twat was going to kill him he wished he'd just get on with it and stop trying to get him to empathize. Weakly he lifted his arms from his sides,

"So what? You're jealous? Is that what you're saying?"

"What I'm saying is that this is mine, Spike. You took what's mine and I want it back."

"Uhexcuse me?"

A soft but perfectly reasonable voice interrupted and they both turned their heads abruptly, surprised to discover that Willow was still standing quietly by, the spell book still spread open in her hands.

"But just what makes this whole 'shanshu' thing any more yours than his?" her eyebrows lifted slightly in curiosity, "I mean the prophesy said 'a vampire with a soul' right, did it mention anything else?" she shrugged, "Hair color maybe? Weight? Vital statistics?"

"Not exactly."

"And to qualify for it, he just had to help save the world? Just be there? Helping out?" she shook her head slightly, "'Cause, you know, I don't really remember, I mean there was a lot going on and everything, what with the dying and bloodshed butdid I see you? I mean I remember Spike being there"

Her expression was coolly innocent, but her tone was ironic.

"I mean he did let himself get all burned up to save the world? I mean I didn't just imagine that, right? He was actually there during the 'great battle'?"

"Yeah. Yeah he was." Angels' grip shifted and he finally lowered Spike to the ground. Eyeing him coldly, he drew in a deep weary breath. "It just turns out that the 'great battle', wasn't so much the 'final' one."

Preoccupied with the throbbing pain in his shoulders, it took Spike a moment or two to register what had been said, but when it finally did he stared up the vampire complete disbelief. The bloke couldn't be serious, but what was it Padgett had said before; twenty-four armageddons and counting?

::None planned for the next few weeks then?

Not as far as we know::

And he'd thought he was just fucking around.

"Sowhat.? There's going to be another apocalyptic battle between good and evil?"

Angel nodded slowly, and he saw Willow's hands drop limply to her sides. She let out a low whimper,

"Just a small apocalypse though, right? A mini one?"

"That part's still a little hazy," at least he had the decency now to look a little apologetic, "Although judging by the condition of our very late chief seer after she caught a peek today? I'd say it's going to make the destruction of the Hellmouth seem like a cozy glow."

Spike's gaze drifted past him to where the small figure of The Slayer stood motionless. Her expression, although still angry and afraid, was filled with uneasy hope. Beside her, Dawn looked equally as confused but, as he watched them, she reached slowly for her older sister's hand.

"And Buffy?" his voice was soft, but he couldn't keep the tremor out of it, "She and her pals going to be heading up the fight again?"

"What do you care?" Angel's lips hardened to a thin line, "You'll be busy breathing and eating Pop Tarts."

"I care." Spike's chin lifted an inch, "I want to help."

"Well, If by 'helping' you mean burning and dying along with all the other dumbass mortals then I'm sure you will."

"Hey!!"

Willow's indignant voice interjected, and Angel frowned apologetically,

"Sorry."

She glared at him,

"Sowhat? You're saying Spike shouldn't shanshu, that you should go in his place?"

"I'm saying it never was his place. It was mine."

"Says you!"

"No." Angel eyed her gravely for a moment before speaking, "Says Miyatah."

"Oh."

Willow's expression shifted slowly from annoyance through to surprise and then disbelief,

"Really? Miyatah?"

"His yatah?" Spike stared at both of them irritably. "What the bleeding hell is his 'yatah'?"

The portal behind the witch had stared to shift alarmingly and he was pretty sure it was shrinking. At least ten feet high a few minutes before, the arch now shimmered just a little above WIllow's head.

"Miyatah. She's an Oracle," she corrected herself, "Was an Oracle. One of the gatekeepers of time. It's said that she grew bored of her existence and begged the Powers to grant her the ability to walk among the living, but then she fell in love with a mortal and never returned. No one actually believed she still existed."

The witches face showed great respect and a little fear, and turning back to Angel, she spoke in a low awed tone.

"How did youyou knowsummon her?"

"She lives in Bakersfield."

"Oh." Willow's face fell a little, and she attempted a weak smile, "Well, it's verynice out there. Quiet."

Spike cleared his throat pointedly, and the witch suddenly remembered what she'd been going to ask.

"Oh, so what did she say?"

Angel shrugged,

"That I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed and fought alongside you guys and worn the amulet myself."

"So why didn't you?"

The vampire's expression clouded,

"Let's just say I had a lot on my mind that day," he sighed softly, "I got distracted."

"Andwhat about me?"

Turning back yet again to the long established thorn in his side, Angel found himself suddenly growing terribly weary of explanation.

"What about you?"

Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation,

"Did she say anything about what my destiny was," fixing him with a sapphire-blue stare, he tilted his head to one side, "I mean if this whole mortality gig is really yours, there must be something else in store for me right? Something other than death and glory I mean."

Warily, he eyed the ever-decreasing portal of light wavering in the air behind Willow,

"Maybe something you're deliberately not mentioning."

"No." Angel's jaw tightened a little, "Justshe couldn't see anything too clearly."

"Clear enough to know I'm the one's going to be needed instead of you though, am I right?"

The vampire's silence spoke volumes, as did the tiny blood vessel that had suddenly begun jumping at the corner of his eye. Watching it in fascinated curiosity, Willow's mouth dropped open.

"Ohis it something aboutBuffy?" her face flushed pink with the realization of her discovery, "Oh my Gdid Miyatah say something about Buffy andSpike?"

Angels' face paled a little more, and when he spoke the words were barely audible from between his clenched teeth,

"According to the Seer of Seers, his destiny," his eyes drifted in disgust to Spike, "may or may not be to spend the rest of his days as 'the paramour of The Slayer, until his glorious' - and no doubt horribly painful - 'death defending her life and that of " he gritted his teeth, "'that of their hybrid-demon offspring'."

"Bollocks! You're making this up!"

"Really really not."

Surprised, Spike exchanged a brief glance with Willow.

"So what d'you think? Sound like he's on the level to you?"

The witch shrugged,

"I don't knowit sounds pretty farfetched," she curled her lip, scrutinizing Angel doubtfully, "I mean'hybrid-demon offspring'?"

Frowning, Spike started to nod,

"But that part about the battle, where I save her, what if that's true? I want to be there. For her and Dawn, everyone she loves," looking past her, his eyes locked with Buffy's again, and a faint smile tugged at his lips, "If there's a way I can do that, I'm in. No matter what it costs. She's worth it."

Realizing the truth of it as he spoke, he swallowed, wondered how he could ever have even considered the idea of never seeing her again. Being without her now - that flame-bright girl whom his heart had known at first glance - was unthinkable. She was the other broken half of him and, whether he was allowed to remember or not, he knew that he would always be alone when they were apart.

Risking a glance back at Angel, he was surprised to see the vampire looking at him now with something approaching respect. Slapping the back of his shoulder lightly, the other man stepped forward to stand alongside him facing the portal.

"Soyou want to go make some history, William?"

Writhing and dancing in the air, the opening cast a golden light over both of their faces. Inside, nothing could be seen, only the shifting and swirling of a great shining cauldron, and looking at his grand-sire sideways Spike realized for the first time that he was smiling.

"I'm game if you are."

Cocking his head to one side, Angel gave him a crooked grin,

"And the part where you're an undead creature of the night again, and never get to see another sunrise? Doesn't bother you at all?"

"Sod it," shrugging, Spike toed the floor at his feet, narrowed his eyes and stared into the gleaming gateway, "Bleedin' sunrise is overrated anyway."

And together, they jumped.

* * * * * *

White-yellow light, and then a single clear image swam into his mind. Floating behind it, diaphanous but distinct, came a time and place.

Sometime during the first year he was turned, Dru had taken him to a portrait gallery. A shabby little place just off the Old Kent Road, it was the sort of establishment that - a month before and mortal - he'd have never deigned to enter. But now, with the fresh grave dirt under his nails and a taste like iron in his throat, it had seemed of little concern. Nothing was beneath him or above him now. He was no longer of this world, and his new eyes viewed the fetid darkness and choking filth of life in 1880s London with relish and fascination. Seated side by side with his princess under the flaring gas-lamps, he had smelt the man's fear of them as he bent under the camera's hood, readying the plate. And then the flash as the powder had exploded had blinded him.

Blinking he tried to orientate himself, but he was gone - hands out and sprawling forward towards a ground that never seemed to come. Something whirled above him - razor sharp and silver - and fear surged, a terrible feeling of being helpless, half-woken from sleep and a nightmare that still clawed at his throat. Shaking his head to clear it, he rolled, twisting away from whatever was there, arms shielding his body and desperately tried to clear his vision.

Then light became dark for just a split second, guttering like a flame, but long enough to see the horror surrounding him. Everywhere bodies clashed and fell - some pale human, others grey brown and twisted like trees. Weapons glinting and thrusting, slicing, smoke choking him, and then the sound. Bubbling up as if he were surfacing water, the noise washed and then slammed into him like a wave, threw him back.

"Spike!"

And suddenly he was wide-awake for the first time in what seemed like weeks. The witch's spell had worked, and light flashed and flared into his face to show him so. Show him where he was, splayed out on his back and open to attack from every side when he should be beside her. Watching her back like always, and suddenly he was up and on his feet and stumbling to grab at the blade where it had fallen beside him.

He couldn't tell exactly how far along the fight was, but by the look of things it was pretty near reaching the climax. On all sides the Potentials were lashing out with a zeal and enthusiam he knew had to have come from their newly embued power and, despite being heavily outnumbered, their side was defienitely holding their own. Seeing it all again afresh, a surge of pride went through him. He'd been so preoccupied on the day, so caught up with the task he had to perform, he'd missed all this.

"Spike!!!!"

Buffy's shout hadn't been for herself of course. Rock steady on her feet, he watched her bend and flex like a reed, eyes moving as fast as the scythe in her hand as she swung and sliced out around her in a wide spiraling arc. A fast low sweep and the grey figure in front of her and the one to the right showered into dust, and suddenly she was at his side. Her hand reached for his arm, grasped it,

"Are you hurt?"

"I...no..."

"Then move!!!"

Slicing up and back, her legs reached out in front of her, throwing her over and onto her feet as another of the Turok H'an exploded into dust. Her eyes flashed at him, urgency and confusion,

"Over there!! They need your help."

Then he was up and running, no time to think, wonder at the feeling of his mind flooding with places, pictures, images - a hundred odd years of blood and mayhem - at the feeling of being suddenly stronger and more agile than he could ever have dreamed. Because, along with the images came the sure knowledge that this was it should be, he was as he should be, dark and light perfectly moulded in a body that was the perfect instrument of this struggle. Long, hard sinews made for smashing and slashing, and a strength that felt both limitless and perfectly controlled at the same time. Swinging forward with his borrowed blade he took the heads of two of the creatures in one clean razor-sharp move, and sailed on to the next.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The voice seemed to come from inside him, and for a second he lost his footing, stumbled to regain it as a familiar bulk swung in at him from his left. Catching at him with one hand, Angel's eyes locked on his, dark and deadly serious,

"There's a plan in action here, remember?"

His hand reached in and closed around the amulet hanging around his neck, even as Spike realized that it was there. Instinctively he moved to block Angel's grasp, and the other vampire's gaze narrowed,

"You have to give it to me!" tightening his grip, he bared his teeth in frustration, "Now, Spike! We only have a few seconds left."

It was a face he had never felt anything but hatred for, but suddenly he felt something else.

"You sure about this?"

"What?" Angels' eyes widened, confusion and dark shadows, "We had a deal remember?"

Shaking his head in frustration, Spike pulled him in closer, laid a hand over his,

"I know that! I'm just saying...if you wanted to, you know, reconsider, I'd understand is all," he met his gaze, unable to resist a grin, "After all, s'not everyone that can save the world. Takes someone special..."

"Thanks."

Looking back at him, the vampire almost smiled as he lifted the chain from his neck and placed it around his own.

"I'll try and bear that in mind."

Stepping back from him, Spike frowned, hesitating even as light began to pour from the amulet around Angel's neck. But then a sharp cry from one of the girls tore his head round, and suddenly he was moving again, throwing himself back into the fight with a roar.

The battle seemed to last forever, although he knew in actual fact the whole thing had been over within a few more minutes. As soon as the talisman had begun it's work, the Turok H'an had been driven back by it's light and now, viewing it all from the other side, Spike could only wonder at the power of the thing. Like a setting sun, the shaft of pure energy it threw out was both beautiful and blinding. Fighting by his side, it took Buffy a moment or two to realize what was happening, and when she clutched at him in alarm.

"Spike, what have you done?"

Her eyes slid past him even as she asked the question, and watching her, he felt a stab of pain at the emotions he saw reflected there; her horror and complete disbelief. The scythe dropping to her side, she walked towards the light and swallowing his need to follow her, Spike turned back to the last of the fighters.

With his extra help, most of the uber-vamps on the upper level had been dispatched and the girls were holding their own against the rest. Seeing Xander stagger back from slicing through another, he stepped quietly to his side, catching his arm as he almost fell.

"You OK?"

"Yeahyeah,"

He was panting, weak with exertion, but he managed to pull himself upright, only using the vampire's arm to steady himself.

"I see Angel managed to crash the party after all. Should've known he wouldn't want to miss out on the big one."

"Yeah well"

The boy's face was pale and spotted with blood, and holding him up he was suddenly assailed by a unfamiliar feeling of compassion. Touching his shoulder gently, Spike indicated the remaining Slayers hacking their way capably through the opposition and then jerked his head toward the surface.

"Looks like we've got them on the run down here. Maybe you should think about getting out of here eh?"

Surprised, Xander hesitated for a second before nodding towards Buffy.

"So you want to go tell her or shall I?"

"Go. We'll catch up."

The light surrounding them was vivid gold and strangely painful to look at and, unable to approach any closer, Spike came to a halt a few feet away.

They had stopped talking now, and Buffy was crying softly, her hands covering her face. As she took them away, his heart twisted painfully with the knowledge that, this time, none of it was for him. Love, despair, pain and admiration, it was all for Angel, and despite everything it still hurt. Hanging his head, he looked at the ground.

"Spike?"

Her voice was soft and small, as small as her hand as she reached for his, her fingers sliding through his own. Looking up he took in her face, the tears shining wetly on her cheeks, and then the smile, as fragile as frost.

"I'm ready. We should go now."

His mouth opened a little in disbelief, the words refusing to come. Behind her, the pain was clearly etched on Angel's face, but he struggled to speak.

"I told her as much as I could. She knows this was my call, not yours."

He closed his eyes, and the shaft of light pouring from him suddenly gained in strength. Drawing a deep breath, he opened them one last time, fixed him with a stare like an dying sun.

"You sure as...hell better look after her, Spike."

"I will," he stepped back, "I promise I will."

And then hand in hand, they ran.

* * * * * *

He saw it all this time.

The town as it fell way behind them; the churches and their steeples, the fences, homes, cars tumbling into nothing as the crevasse opened, and even as the sure knowledge that they would escape filled him, he was horrified. Afraid. Awed by the destruction and loss, and then by the overwhelming feeling of relief as the distance opened up between them.

When at last the vehicle slowed to standstill he realized that her hand had never left his the whole time. Turning to him, she smiled sadly. Her eyes seemed greener then ever, luminous.

"I'm going to get out and have a look." she touched the back of his hand, "I won't be long okay?"

"I'll still be here."

She nodded and, stepping outside, she glanced back at him before reaching with a hand to smooth back her hair. Beside her, gazing out across the crater, he heard Giles' voice - humbled a little by the sheer scale of their victory,

"What did this?"

"Angel," Buffy's words were taken by the desert air and blown back to him, "He said it was his gift to me, to all of us," her voice softened, "A parting gift."

"A parting gift?"

Behind her Xander raised his eyebrows, before turning to reach for Anya's hand. Taking it, his ex-demon ex-fiancee hooked her arm through his, ran a hand gently through his dishevelled hair.

"Well, that's was very thoughtful of him. Remind me to send him...you know...a fruit-basket or something, " she frowned, staring at the smoking crater, "Next time we can afford some fruit."

The small group disbanded, trickling back towards the bus, and he watched as Harris reached down to help his girl up the step. Listened to Willow's soft laugh as she settled in beside Kennedy, saw Giles share a weary grin of relief with Faith. Outside, his two were the last to leave the scene. Looking down into the crater, Dawn frowned.

"So no more Hellmouth?" softly, she scuffed a toe in the dirt, "That's a good thing right."

"A very good thing."

"So what now?"

A faint smile touched her sister's lips, and when she turned back to face him, her gaze met sparkling with his own. Worlds of possibilities were written there. A whole lifetimes worth.

Who needed bloody sunrises anyway?

They had destiny