Victimized | Chapter Two
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko
Pairing: Angel/Spike, Angelus/William
Warning: Slash. Blood play.
Spoilers: All the way up to Angel Season 5: Damage.
This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of Joss Whedon, WB, and their associates.
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"I don't care who's going to get involved or how you are going to do it," Angel yelled. "Just find out what the fuck Spike swallowed before we found him, Wes!" Without waiting for a reply, Angel slammed the handset back down, took a couple of deep breaths and counted to ten.
"For one that's not Angelus, you sure are doing a good impression of my Sire."
Angel turned around and glared at the vampire behind him, sitting comfortably in his office chair and resting his boot covered feet on the perfectly lacquered desk. The vampire who was Spike raised an eyebrow at the expression on Angel's face and then gingerly removed his feet.
"So," he started, with the nonchalant tone he had hopefully managed to achieve. "Mind explaining to me what time has I found myself in, mate? Angelus' gonna have my hide if I don't return soon."
"How many times must I tell you this, Spike? Angelus does not exist anymore."
"Well," Spike shrugged, examining his nails attentively. "Keeping saying it until I believe you, pet. Which will be never, if I have something to say about it." He paused for a moment, finding a way to phrase his words properly, and then continued.
"Angelus and I…we are connected by blood, mate. The blood does not lie."
Angel stopped his pacing, shock evident in his eyes.
"What did you just say? The link…the link's not broken?"
"Hell, why would it be?" Spike pushed himself angrily off the chair, and stormed out of the room, muttering disconnected words under his breath that made perfect sense to Angel.
"You were my sire, man! You were my Yoda!"
His jaw ached from Spike's blow, but somewhere deep inside where his heart ought to be, it hurt more.
Sire; the word had fallen so naturally and easily from his boy's lips. Angel closed his eyes briefly in pain, silently lamenting how Spike had never used that word on him before, how he could not, all thanks for Angelus' stupidity.
It had occurred, at some point in time, to Angel that there was something wrong Spike's response then. Spike would never call him 'Sire'.
He had no reason to.
***
London 1882
The sunrise was in an hour's time. It was strange how numb his dead senses could be to some things and how sensitive it was to others. Ever since he was reborn as a vampire, William could no longer smell the sweet aroma of homemade cookies, or taste the sweetness of strawberry jam. In their stead was the deafening pounding of hearts beating, the all encompassing need for that warm enticing human blood calling to the demon within, and of course, the prickling of his dead skin as the sun rises and sets each day.
William sat at the open window, a cheap cigar between his fingers, slowly burning down into a long cylindrical column of ash. In his lap were small pieces of paper with ink stains on them. He remembered that sheet of paper and he remembered why it was in pieces.
"I'm still beneath you, Cecily, even after so long."
"What are you doing there, Will?" William turned, smiling a little when he saw his sire walk into the drawing room where he was. Angelus stopped, folded his arms over his chest, and leant against the wooden doorframe. "Sunrise's in an hour, boy."
"I know," William answered simply. His skin was already beginning to hurt, so tender the skin of a fledging was. As the way it was for his heart. He only wished being dead had given him a one-way ticket away from ever being hurt again. But unfortunately for him, it didn't.
He turned away from his sire and looked out of the window once more. "I always know. You taught me well, sire."
"Are you mocking me, childe?" Angelus growled, a hint of anger in his voice, even though his stance seemed as relaxed as before.
"No, I'm not. I never will." He faced his sire again.
The two men waited; one from the door, the other at the window, both looking at each other yet not seeing each other. Finally, Angelus took a worried look at the lightening sky outside. William followed his gaze and shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the sizzling noise, as the sunlight grew stronger.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it—what's wrong with you?"
"Me?" William arched a pale eyebrow, remembering when he had said the exact same words to another lady from a different lifetime. "I just want you to see me."
"That's the problem, William. I do see you. You are beneath me."
The young vampire held his non-existent breath and waited, praying to a god he didn't believe in that he would not hear the same reply again. Not this time. No.
"That's the problem, Will."
God…no…
"I do see you." This cannot be…!
"In fact, it was too much. More than I should." This time, it was Angelus' turn to look away when his childe stared at him in shock. He shifted his feet uncomfortably, consciously reminding himself that this was his two year old fledging and he definitely should not be so affected by the boy.
That was where his dilemma lies, wasn't it? He knew the boy could affect him, sway the emotions he thought had died with him long ago. He knew it was dangerous. He also knew there was nothing much he could do about it.
William opened his mouth to speak, but a scream came out instead. The sun had chosen that moment to move from its hiding place behind a convenient cloud and shine bright and happy over the English land.
Angelus never thought he could move so fast. He crossed the distance between him and his childe in split seconds, pulling his childe to the carpeted ground with him as he drew the curtains shut with his other hand. The dead skin sizzled as it made contact with the sunlight. The sickening smell of burning flesh hung heavily in the room. Ignoring the pain in his own hand, Angelus carefully examined his injured childe.
The young vampire was unconscious, but it was not sure if he was knocked out cold from his sudden and not too gentle contact with the floor or if it was due to the pain. Half of his face was almost black, the tips of his hair crumpled into gray ash when Angelus touched them gently. Angelus stared at the small piles of ashes in shock, his irises ringed with a hint of gold.
This… this dust could be his childe.
The most impossible thing had happened. William the Bloody, childe of Angelus the Scourge of Europe, blood of the Order of Aurelius could love. Not only could he love, his love was total, all consuming and destructive. Angelus suddenly realized that although he demanded complete respect and obedience from all his childer, he never realized how painful and dangerous it was for any one of them to love him in that same way.
Angelus was afraid.
He was afraid of what this love could do to him, and to William. Would he grow weak, knowing that his childe adored him like a God? How long would it be before William killed himself, due to his unrequited love for his sire? Angelus was a demon; he could never love William enough like a lover would.
He had to do something. Before this foolish affection could kill them all.
"Drusilla," He called out. "Come now, IMMEDIATELY!"
***
Spike only allowed his confusion to show on his face after he left the office. That strange vampire in there, he said his name was Angel. He said he was his sire.
The blonde vampire felt at his face lightly, running his fingers over the scar over his left brow, and the short gelled peroxide hair. He knew he was not William. He did not feel anything like William. Power was coursing through his veins like a drug. He brought his hand before him, flexing it into a fist and then relaxed again.
A quick glance at the papers lying on Angel's desk just now had informed him that the year was 2003. He had lost 121 years of memories. What had happened to him? Who was he now in this strange century? Bloody Hell, it's a totally different millennium altogether even!
Most importantly who was this Angel? Spike felt his blood sing when he saw the vampire. Every cell in him told him that Angel was his sire, just like what the vampire said. Every part of him except for his heart anyway. He did not want to admit that this vampire he knew nothing about was Angelus. The blood link between sire and childe was still there. Spike had not lied when he said that.
But the link was so weak that it made him want to crawl to the darkest corner of the building and hide there, sobbing quietly into his arms. If this Angel was indeed Angelus as he had said, how could the link be so weak even when he was standing so close to the vampire?
Spike closed his eyes, clinging on desperately to the almost negligible tingling at the edge of his mind where he knew the bond was. Where are you, sire? He pleaded silently.
"Blondie bear?" His eyes snapped open in anger and irritation at the girl who interrupted him. He turned his head, glaring at the blonde receptionist.
"What?" He snarled. She drew back with her eyes wide.
"I…I heard from Bossy that you are not feeling well. Just want to know if you are okay…well, I guess, you look…great," she shrugged.
Spike raised an eyebrow and then walked away, humming a ditty under his breath and made up his mind to distract himself a little by exploring his new surroundings.
"Early one morning, just as the sun was rising…"
He did not notice the green demon that had just stopped walking, spun around and stared at him with barely concealed fear in his dark red eyes.
Lorne ignored the files and the phone he had just dropped on the floor. He could have been talking to Johnny Depp on the phone then, but he did not care. There was something more important he had to do.
"Hi Harm-cakes, is Angel in?" The ex-Cordette nodded earnestly. Lorne forced a smile.
Angel was not going to like this news.
+++
End of Chapter Two
Continue to Chapter Three