Oh look, I'm back!!! Yeah! Forgot to mention it before, I own nothing, they're Joss's and I'll miss them all even though they were never really mine. Thanks for all the kind words folks and here's the next chappy. Hope you all like H/C, I know I do!!!!
To Catch a Thief
By Robinyj
"Doyle! Doyle what happened? Doyle?!" Angel yelled furiously into the phone, having no idea what was happening at the half demon's apartment. Doyle had been explaining his vision then suddenly stopped as a loud crash erupted in the background. He could hear a struggle now and then, in a clear cockney accent was Spike's voice, "Now that is just plain rude, sneaking up on a bloke like that, easy way to get yourself killed." This was followed by another loud crash and then Angel was gone. He threw the phone away, uncaring and raced out of the building towards Doyle's.
"Hey, where are you going? Angel? What's wrong?" Cordelia yelled out confused as he raced by her. Taking a deep breath, and hating her own curiosity and natural anxiety she ran after him, "This is such a bad idea, these shoes are so not meant for long distance."
It was a twenty minute walk to Doyle's, but Angel could run it in three. Feet pounding against the concrete he raced towards the apartment, his mind filled with what if's and horrible scenarios of what could happen in the short time it took him to reach Oz and Doyle, two of the few people in this world he could even come close to considering friends.
Just before he raced around the last corner a black desota pulled away from the building, in the opposite direction. Angel never knew it had even been there, he headed straight for the stairs, bounded up them effortlessly and came to a halt just before the doorway.
Feet.
There were feet visible beyond the opening, and they weren't moving. Taking a cautious step forward Angel entered the apartment and saw the feet belonged to Oz. He continued on into the room after listening to Oz's breathing and heart rate, knowing he was okay for the moment. The vampire walked slowly through the ruined apartment, but it soon became obvious that Spike was gone and there was no sign of Doyle. This could only mean very bad things. An involuntary growl escaped Angel's throat as he pulled back and punched through the wall in frustration. He could handle when he got hurt, it was what he did, but what he couldn't stand was when others, especially those close to him, were put in danger because of him. Spike had taken Doyle to get to him. He had no idea what condition his friend may be in, but Angel knew now that Spike was a dead man. Deader than he already was.
Would everyone he got close to, everyone he cared about, get hurt because of him? Could he not know someone without putting their lives in danger?
The soulful vampire was pulled from these thoughts by a groan from across the room. Just as Angel turned to check on Oz a breathless Cordelia appeared in the doorway.
"Okay, what is going ….. Oh my god." She was taken aback momentarily by the sight of the apartment and then her gaze fell on the werewolf, who was just beginning to stir. "Oz!"
Cordelia crouched down on one side of the blond while Angel knelt on the other side. Oz was facedown on the floor, his shirt had been torn at some point and there were two dark bruises forming on his face and running down his neck. Angel could smell blood but saw no immediate wounds because of the way he was positioned. As Oz's eyes flickered open he groaned again and brought a hand up to cradle his head.
"This is the last time I go on vacation," he grumbled as he tried to rise from his faceplant on the floor. Angel took one of his arms to help him rise, slowly.
"What happened here? Oh god, you're bleeding," Cordelia exclaimed as she saw the blood dripping from his forearm. She reached forward to check out how bad it was and was surprised when Oz reacted violently.
"No!" he shouted as he pulled away from Angel's grasp and stumbled backwards, halfway across the room, cradling the arm against his stomach.
"Easy Oz, it's okay," Angel assured him, also shocked by the outburst.
"Don't touch me," Oz warned as he backed away even further and looked disdainfully at the long cut on his arm, "It's wolf blood, don't go near it. Trust me that you don't want what I have."
Realization dawned on the faces of both Cordelia and Angel, but they did not back away. Instead Cordy grabbed a nearby towel from the counter and handed it to the musician, from a safe distance. Oz took it graciously and began to wrap up his arm.
"Alright, we won't touch you, we got it. What happened?" Angel asked urgently, "Where's Doyle?"
"Spike took him. Him and a bunch of other vamps, they trashed us and left with Doyle," Oz explained, sounding apologetic despite knowing he could have done little against such strong opponents.
"What did he say?" Angel questioned further as he took a step closer and guided Oz to sit down.
The musician sighed, hating being used a messenger for Spike, "Here's the big surprise; he wants the ring. Basic routine, give him the ring or Doyle's dead. He said to come alone to the factory on sixth and Douglas at dawn."
"But … but we don't have the ring anymore," Cordelia exclaimed, becoming frantic.
"We'll have to come up with something then," Angel said stone faced, anger visibly burning in his eyes, "Because we're going to get Doyle back and Spike's not getting off so easy this time."
Oz nodded in agreement as did Cordelia, though she was still visibly shaken.
"We need a plan," Cordelia announced, stating the obvious, but no one minded.
"You're right. Let's go back to the agency," Angel suggested, then looked at Oz, "And get you to a hospital."
"No way," Oz said, his voice firmer than Angel ever recalled, "I heal pretty quickly, I'll be okay. I want to help, Doyle promised me a night on that couch, and he's going to pay up."
Angel smiled faintly but it soon vanished, "All right, you can come until we have a plan at least. We got some first aid kits there too." Then they left together, Angel leading the way with Oz and Cordy shortly behind, Cordy supporting Oz when he needed a hand and all of them very worried for their friend.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~
They walked back to the agency in silence, Angel deep in thought, worrying about Doyle but also attempting to formulate a plan, Cordelia, hand placed gently on Oz's arm was thinking about Doyle, but also worried that Angel was going to start brooding again and he was never very fun or useful in "brood-mode". Oz walked with his head down, berating himself for having not done more against Spike, or having enough sense to get them both out of the apartment when they knew Spike had been there, and could get in again. He didn't know Doyle very well, but he knew he liked the guy, and the Cockney vamp probably wasn't being the greatest of hosts.
Cordelia, who had less personal experience dealing with Spike, asked Oz tentatively, "Will uh, will Spike … you know … hurt him?"
Oz looked up and met her eyes, "I don't know. He might. He didn't hurt Willow or Xand when he kidnapped them, so we can only hope."
Cordelia didn't even flinch at the memory of that horrible experience, Xander betraying her or being impaled. She was that worried about Doyle, "Yeah, you're right. He didn't hurt them. Doyle'll be fine. Just fine." Her voice cracked on his name.
Oz lowered his eyes once more, tightened the makeshift bandage on his arm and said nothing.
"I hope he's okay," Cordelia muttered. Oz knew she was saying it to herself but nodded as well.
Angel's gaze drew up toward the stars and he whispered, "Me too."
~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Doyle moaned. His head hurt. His whole body hurt. Thinking hurt. The Irishman didn't know what had happened, he had just regained consciousness but still floated in the state of mind where dreams and reality mix together, when you're neither awake or asleep. But he knew he was in pain.
"I must have had one hell of a party last night," he thought to himself, thinking he was suffering from the worst hangover of his life, "Wish I could remember it."
He cracked open a bloody eye and discovered he was standing – no – hanging in a large dark room, with heavy machinery filling up most of it. There were two doors that he could see, each on the far wall on opposite sides of him and the floor was cold concrete. Noticing a painful strain on his arms he looked up and saw he was manacled to a heavy chain hanging from the ceiling. He tried to stand and found his toes only barely touched the floor, hardly taking any tension off his arms at all. Blood was dripping into his eyes from a large gash on his forehead, he felt surely concussed and he was cold, mostly because his shirt, shoes, and socks were missing.
"One hell of a party indeed," he mumbled as he took in the situation and realized he really didn't like it. He pulled at the chains on his wrists, tried to twist them around in some way, but they were strong and even in demon form he couldn't budge them.
"What the hell happened?" he wondered aloud. Suddenly there was light, the entire room was a blinding flash of illuminance and Doyle cringed as his eyes adjusted and his headache intensified. The sound of a door opening drew his gaze to the direction he knew the door to be in, but he couldn't yet see anything. Footsteps echoed off the concrete floor, approaching at a casual speed with emphasized clicks of a boot heel. As Doyle's eyes finally adjusted he saw who had entered and remembered at least partially what had happened to him.
"So, you're the bugger that stole my scotch."
Spike smiled, amused by the attempted bravado, "Guilty, I admit. Good stuff too, where'd you get it?"
"Make you a deal, right fair one. You cut me down and I'll tell you, even get you a good price," Doyle promised, trying to keep his voice steady. He had to admit it, he was scared. He knew what Spike was capable of, had seen the damage he had inflicted upon Angel. Namely the pokers. And he knew the vampire wouldn't flinch to do the same to him. It was then he noticed the tray. Just off to his left was a small, portable medical tray covered with a white sheet. Doyle shuddered thinking of what may be underneath.
"Well, how thoughtful, but I'll have to decline, want my ring just a bit bloody more than I want your scotch," Spike replied taking a drag off his cigarette and blowing the smoke in Doyle's face. Then he began to pace slowly, circling him as he spoke so the half-brachen demon could only see him half the time.
"See, that's where we come to a problem. Now scotch I can get you, but I got no clue where your ring is, honest. But it doesn't really go with your complexion if you know what I mean, I think a nice bracelet might be better suited to you, or even one of those anklet …." Doyle's head snapped back and his rambling was ceased by a fierce slap to the face.
"Did I ask for your bloody opinion?" Spike asked, clearly not wanting him to speak again. Doyle blinked rapidly to clear his eyesight and said nothing. When he recovered his face became set in a look of defiance; his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in anger. Spike just puffed his cigarette.
"If you're quite done, I know that you know where the ring is, because it's pretty damn obvious Angel has it," Spike began but Doyle couldn't help but interrupt.
"Actually, Angel destroyed it. You're wasting your time," Doyle said triumphantly and foolishly smiled.
"Yes, of course, that I believe. The great hero destroyed the one thing that can give him everything he's ever dreamed of, makes perfect sense. I think you're swimming here, throw me another one," Spike requested, not believing a word.
"Only one I got, and it's the truth," Doyle insisted but knew Spike wouldn't believe him. The blond brit had no understanding of the true honor and nobility Angel had.
"Of course if this was true then I would have absolutely no use for you and might as well just release you now. Isn't that the way it goes?" Spike asked, sounding sceptical. "Doesn't sound too fun to me, so instead why don't we just wait until Angel gets here and find out what he has to say."
"Angel's coming?" Doyle asked, unable to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.
Spike looked amused, "Should be here in a bit, unless of course wolf-boy forgot my damn message. Oxygen deprivation can do that I suppose. Blood loss too."
A dark shadow passed over Doyle's features as he tugged once more on his chains. He didn't know Oz very well, but that didn't mean he enjoyed hearing about the damage Spike had inflicted upon him. It was then a sudden realization hit Doyle.
"I'm bait." Until now he had thought Spike was going to torture him for information like he did Angel. It did not please him at all to find out he was being used against his friends.
"No more than a bloody worm on a hook I'm afraid," Spike smirked, enjoying seeing the anger it built up in his victim. Then the smile faded, "But don't think that means you'll be warm and cozy during your visit here. Just being mates with Angel puts you on my list of those that should be maimed, but add to it that you made me lose my ring and I get plain pissed." He leaned forward as he said this and a sadistic light lit up his eyes as he stubbed out his cigarette on Doyle's chest.
The brachen demon hissed and bit his lip to keep from crying out as the cigarette burned a hole in his flesh.
"Trust me, you don't want to see me pissed," Spike leered.
"You mean opposed to your usual charming self?" Doyle ground out through gritted teeth.
"My you are a feisty one aren't you? Let's see what we can do about that," Spike said, enjoying a challenge. Smiling wide he slid his coat off and let it billow silently to the floor, then cracked his knuckles happily. He stepped up into Doyle's personal space, causing him to instinctively try to back away, and find there was nowhere else to go. Spike's smirk widened as he reached out and plucked the white cloth off of the medical tray that Doyle had been making an effort to ignore, but now that it was uncovered he couldn't hold back his curiosity. He wished he hadn't looked. A scalpel, a medium sized, curved knife, something like acupuncture needles, and a cat-o-nine-tails. Doyle gulped, really wishing he hadn't looked.
Reaching out Spike seemed deep in thought as he decided exactly what would be best for this occasion, the trick was trying to inflict as much pain as possible without accidentally killing your victim. Usually the no killing part was negotiable, depending on his mood, but not tonight. After all, if he killed the whelp Angel would never give him his ring. He finally decided on the knife, picked it up almost reverently and twirled it into the tip of his finger.
"Aw Betsy," he said to the knife, "we have had so many good times together. All the blood, all the pain, all the lovely music in their screams."
Doyle was silent but shuddered. Then, almost strolling, Spike walked around him and as he passed behind Doyle he ran the knife along his back, from shoulder to shoulder, putting on just enough pressure to cause the right amount of pain, "That is for your little stunt with the cross," Spike remarked, pulling down his collar slightly to show the singe marks, "And this," he punched Doyle hard across the face and then twice in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from him, "is for making me lose my ring."
Doyle couldn't even double over with pain due to the chains keeping him upright. Gasping for breath he kept his head down as he waited for his breathing to get under control and spat out blood so he wouldn't gag. Warm blood trickled down his back, dripping to the floor and his headache had just amplified ten-fold. He shuddered from the cold and shock and then screamed unwillingly and arced his back to try to escape as the blade cut him once more. Spike chuckled and Doyle panted. While the half-demon had been composing himself the vampire had stepped behind him once more and drove another deep gash across the small of his back. Then, an all too content look on his face, he drew another one, crossing the two to form an X. To him it was like artwork as the blood continued to flow.
"What's wrong ducks, no more of that witty repartee we've been exchanging? I'm a bit disappointed," Spike admitted replacing the knife on the tray.
Doyle sucked in another deep breath and then raised his pain-filled gaze, "I can't wait until Angel kicks your sorry arse."
Spike straight-punched him in the mouth once more. "Hmm, not very witty at all mate, that the best you got?"
Doyle attempted a shrug but was too restricted and quickly becoming too weak, "I could mention that your hair looks like a boiled egg, but I'm trying not to make things personal."
This time when Spike hit him blessed unconsciousness followed.
TBC
Oh, cliffy again. Kind of. I don't know, you tell me. Anyway, next time we get the plan, the counter plan, and of course more H/C, probably of the Oz and Doyle kind. There will probably be Spike H but not a lot of C since he's evil in this timeline. (H/C is hurt/comfort, I remember when I was new to fanfic, took me forever to figure out.) Anyway, I hope you like it so far and there will be more shortly. I'm also open to plot ideas too, I have lots of my own but someone suggested Wolfram and Hart and I hadn't considered going there but they may play a role now, so I do listen to my reviewers. In fact, here's a response to you all:
Imzadi – As I said, I may bring Wolfram & Hart into it, thanks for the suggestion.
Templa Otmena – thank you for the info on Glenn, already knew he died and will miss him greatly. Glad you like the characterization, it's hard to get down sometimes and it's good to know people notice.
Angelfirenze & Tap Dancing Widow – Thank you for pointing out my huge error, don't know how I got the title wrong like that. I'm just an idiot I suppose. I've changed it and thanks for reviewing.
Caytlyn88 – yeah, more Doyle fans! I find so few these days. Please, gather any more that you know of.
LadyLupin – Glad you like the characters, I love finding peeps who enjoy the same fanfic characters I do.
Brat64 – Are you not just the BEST reviewer ever???? I think so. You are so consistent, I love you!!!! All my Andromeda and LotR stories, you've reviewed 'em all and now here you are at my first Angel fic. You get around don't you? I really do appreciate your constant reviews, they mean a lot and they're so nice and detailed. It's a crazy coincidence that we like so many of the same characters, almost freaky really after reading your bio and seeing EVERYONE that I like. Hope you'll enjoy the characters in all my future fics as well, whatever fandom they may be. Except for Dark Angel I watch every show you do, just add Alias and it's the same list. Cool.
Lotsa love, Robinyj ^_^
Please R&R, it makes me feel warm and cuddly and I can't write when I'm cold.