TITLE: Blaze Of Glory; Come Back To Me

RATING: R
PAIRING: Angel/Spike
SUMMARY; Sequel to Blaze Of Glory.

SPOILERS: Buffy Season 5, Angel Season 2 episodes 19 to 22 didn't happen, sorry no Fred. Also Joyce did not die.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters; they belong to Joss
FEEDBACK: Always wanted and adored.

WEBSITE:

PREQUEL:

A/N: Cause you all asked so nicely, many moons ago, and Setting Things Straight is kicking my arse and I've got itchy fingers!!! Thank you to Belle for giving me the idea for this fic. Thank you to Mera Haven for all her advice and badgering without which this fic would still be sitting in my head, and thank you to Ely my beta for all her hard work she is the queen of commas. Poem originally by Wilbur Skeels, adapted by Mary Frye and adapted again by me!!!

A/N 2: I wrote this a while ago and have only just started sorting it out not stuck on StS any more and I would like to thank the queen of commas my beta Ely.

Part 2

Angel woke with a start to a loud bang and looked around, bewilderedly taking in his surroundings. He was in Buffy's living room and Dawn was curled up under one of his arms. He looked down at his knees and saw the box sitting there and it all came crashing back to him. Spike, William, his Childe was gone. Angel took a shuddering breath as he felt his emotions start to get the better of him again.

Joyce walked in holding a cup of steaming coffee. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized.

"What happened," Angel asked gruffly.

"You read William's letter, then both you and Dawn cried yourselves to sleep."

"The others?"

"They're fine; Cordelia is staying with Willow and Tara in the dorm and Giles took Gunn and Wesley to his. You want a cup of the o-neg?"

Angel stared at her in shock.

"Don't be so surprised, Spike loved it when I made him his." Joyce looked thoughtful. "Mind, I don't suppose you want marshmallows on the top of yours, do you," she said with a small smile.

Angel just shook his head wondering what alternate reality he had woken up in. Joyce went back to the kitchen and later reappeared with a steaming cup, which she handed to Angel before sitting next to him.

They sipped their hot beverages in quiet contemplation. "So you want to talk," Joyce asked.

"Not really," Angel replied.

"Good, then you get to listen."

Joyce just smiled as Angel arched an eyebrow.

"Don't get me wrong. I have, over the years, come to love you in my own special way, but both William and I agreed that you aren't one for a good natter."

"Why do you call him William?"

Joyce looked at him rather surprised. "Because, that's his name."

"I don't understand," Angel said, his confusion evident.

"Then sit back and let me tell you a little story," Joyce said as she sipped her coffee. "You remember the night he was here and I refused to let you in?" Angel nodded. "Well, that was the start really; I think after Dru left him he just wanted company. It started off that every now and again he would pop in and I would make him hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on the top."

"You do realize he was a vampire, a deadly killer," Angel asked a bit astonished.

"Of course, but he promised not to bite me and I believed him."

Angel snorted. "You were very silly."

"Why? I had something he craved more than blood – companionship, conversation, motherly love. It's not just you who has lost a childe Angel." Joyce looked at him pointedly. "I too have lost a member of my family, because that was what he became to me, an adopted son if you like. The son I never had."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"No, that's the point, no one does," Joyce said while looking into her cup as if it held all the answers.

"What did you talk about?"

She smiled. "Nothing really, I used to talk about the girls and how they were doing in school, problems with the gallery, gossip – you know chit chat. But William used to tell me about his "adventures" as he called them. Don't get me wrong, I know what he told me was the very edited version, without any of the killing and stuff, but he would talk about how he and Dru had once climbed the Eiffel Tower one Christmas Day night just so she could try and catch a star. Or about the time they broke into the Louvre so he could show her the paintings." Angel smiled at the image in his head of his two irresponsible childer running round the halls of the Louvre laughing, hand in hand.

"He also spoke about you." Angel looked at her in surprise "Admittedly, usually when he was drunk and only after we got to the point that we trusted one other."

"What did he say," Angel asked wanting to know everything.

"It's not what he said, it's what he didn't say...He missed you and it hurt him, not here," she said, tapping her head, "but here." She laid her hand over her heart. "Deep down inside that place you rarely let someone in. Well, he let you in and he let you in deep, so deep that after a hundred years you were still there. He loved you with all his heart, body and soul."

"He didn't have a soul," Angel said quietly.

"Really?" Joyce arched an eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe. Creatures without souls can't love, not like he could. He would have done anything for you." Joyce laid her hand over Angel's and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'm not having a go at you. Just telling you how it was."

Angel closed his eyes. "I know, he was like that when he was first turned." Angel looked at her to be sure she under stood what he meant, Joyce nodded. "I turned him mainly because Dru wanted him. I saw him as nothing more than a glorified babysitter to begin with."

"But you made him your childe, not a minion, why?"

"A minion is not allowed to hurt or be disobedient to a member of the family, so he had to be a childe otherwise Dru could tell him to simply go away and he would have had to," Angel explained.

"Oh."

"As the months went by, Dru became quieter and both Darla and I saw what an asset he was to have around, so I began training him. He was almost six months old before I tough him how to feed," Angel said quietly.

"How did he survive?"

Angel shrugged. "I honestly couldn't tell you. I know Dru wouldn't have been much use. Maybe he just ordered a minion to, shall we say 'bring him dinner'."

Joyce smiled. "William used to say that phrase. What happened next?"

"What happened next was I turned a quiet poetic vampire into a monster for the fun of it," Angel said quietly.

"That wasn't you." Joyce squeezed his hand again in reassurance.

"Yes, it was. It was me," Angel said tears threatening to fall.

"No, it wasn't."

"What do you know," Angel snapped.

"Quiet a lot actually," Joyce snapped back. "Let me ask you a question. When you were Liam, did you ever kill anyone?"

Angel looked at her, his brow furrowed. "No," he answered cautiously.

"When you were first turned, what did you feel?"

"How do you mean," he asked wondering where this was going.

"Well, when you rose from the grave, did you feel like going out and torturing an innocent victim?"

Angel thought about it. "Well, no. I just wanted to feed."

"Why did you start torturing your victims," Joyce asked.

Angel nodded seeing where this was heading. "Darla, she used to punish me for not being vicious enough in the early days. The more vicious I was, the more she praised me and the punishments soon stopped." Angel paused looking thoughtful. "Do you think if a vampire is left to his own devices that he could, in a sense, live a normal life, not killing?"

"I didn't say that. The way I see it is that a vampire is like..." Joyce looked thoughtful, "let's say a lion. It feeds when it's hungry, but if you antagonize it or train the lion, it can become a vicious killing machine. It wasn't you; it wasn't even Darla, who started off this trend. It was the first vampires, the true masters."

Angel nodded thoughtfully and smiled. "I can see why Will liked talking to you. Did you know we made up?" Joyce shook her head sadly. "We were going to give it another try," Angel said as tears began to fall again. Joyce squeezed his hand gently and they sat in silence, each keeping there own council.

Dawn started to stir and wake up.

She looked at them with red-rimmed, sleepy eyes. "Hey," she said quietly looking at the box.

"Hey sleepyhead, you want some food," Joyce asked as she stood up. Dawn nodded and Joyce started to walk to the kitchen.

"Joyce," Angel said. She stopped and turned to look at him at the door.

"Thank you," Angel said quietly.

Joyce nodded and walked into the kitchen.

"How you feeling, Dawn?"

Dawn looked a bit embarrassed at having cried on Angel. "I feel empty," Dawn said.

Angel looked at the box, then at Dawn and then at the letter still scrunched in his left hand, and made a decision. He carefully picked up the box and placed to on the coffee table along with the letter and pulled Dawn into a much needed hug. Dawn fell into his arms and buried her head in his chest, enjoying the comforting gesture.

"What will you do with him," Dawn asked quietly.

"I think Will would like to be buried somewhere, any ideas," Angel asked

Dawn lifted her head and looked at Angel with solemn eyes. "I think he would like to be buried near his crypt." Angel just looked at her. "You do know he was living in a crypt?"

"No, I didn't," Angel said sadly.

"Hey, stop that! It wasn't that bad – he had a television and all sorts of stuff. I mean, well, he never showed me the lower level. He was very possessive about his place. I think he would be happy there. That way he can keep an eye on the graveyard like old times, as well as his crypt."

Angel smiled. "Yeah, I think he would like that." After moments of thought, he added, "Want to help me pick a spot?"

Dawn smiled. "Yeah, sure." She buried her head back into Angel's chest enjoying the feel of something solid surrounding her.

TBC