Angel's POV

"There is nothing. Nothing. Wrong with you." I whisper into his ear to make him believe. Before he can shake his head and deny the truth, I lift his face to mine and gaze into those shattered blue eyes of his. They are wet with tears and I know that my brown ones reflect the same image as his. Gently, and trying to show just how wrong he is, I bring our faces closer and press my lips to his.

He doesn't react straight away. I think he's about as scared as I am. To be honest, I'm scared, but Spike's terrified. I can only imagine the thoughts running through his head right now, but I'm sure they're running along the lines of, 'when's he going to hit me.' and it hurts. My baby is shaking and I can feel the tears running down his face so slowly.

It's as if we're stuck in time and nothing can touch us. Not now. Not ever. This moment is about us. I'm trying to show him how much this means to me. This isn't just about Spike. This is not about just making him feel better. This is about us. I need him to understand how much he means to me.

It feels like a lunar landing it's so precise. Exactly four seconds after I press my lips to his, he responds. Gently moving his lips against mine, so slowly and so gently as if he might break if it was any harder. I relax my grip around his waist in case he really does shatter. He's already broken inside; I don't think I could bear it if I broke him for real.

I follow his lead and close my eyes, just feeling. This is too much for more than one sense to deal with. So I'm going to only let myself feel him. Pressed against me, two sensitive lips pressed against mine, trying to go unnoticed in case I might snap. He's so small compared to me. He's just letting me kiss him. He's barely touching me, just so I wont push him away.

Eventually I have to. Well of course I don't have to. Because I don't have to breathe. But I do have to in case it's too much for him. He might be going mad thinking about what this means and I have to stop that. I'll only hurt him more if that happens. Immediately after I pull away I look to him, and find his face gazing intently at the sheets, mouth still slightly open and tears sliding gently down his face.

I sigh a little and reach out to him. As if it's a natural reaction to him, he pulls back and tightens his grip on the duvet cover. My fingers continue on their journey and let a tear fall onto my outstretched digit. It glistens there in the soft light of my room before spreading so much that there is nothing but a damp patch left on the tip of my finger.

I rub my moist fingers together and let my hand drop to the covers. I've got two choices now. Either talk to him about what just happened, or to change the subject. He must be trying to figure out what kind of game I'm playing. When I was Angelus I was always playing games with him.

Trying again I reach out and pat gently at his hair. It's so soft; like kitten's fur. He pulled away to begin with, but now I'm just stroking a few strands between my fingers to try and calm him down. I wonder what he's thinking right now. He's trying so desperately to deal with all this that I think he's forgotten to hide William. Since he's arrived that's all I've seen.

Eventually, after many minutes of stroking and petting, he looks up at me. And I mean up. I never realised how small he really was until now. He's practically half my size and about a head or so shorter. Of course, within his beloved Docs he wears a few layers of insoles to give him extra height. The duster helps. A long coat gives the illusion that he's taller than he really is.

But right now, sitting in my bed with tear tracks running down his face like he's a five year old, he's never looked smaller.

"Spike?" I whisper, but my voice still sounds like it's been magnified. He makes no response other than to shake his head slightly, as if he's denying his own name. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" I ask. I really need to know right now. I can't bear to see my childe cry.

He continues gazing at the sheets and before I know it, he's trying to get up and out of the bed. Thin arms reaching out to swipe the covers from his lithe form, too small hands pushing them away as he sniffs and tries to search the floor for his own clothes. He shakes his head yet again and goes to tug off my shirt that he's wearing.

Before he can get as far as lift the hem, I've grabbed his hands to stop him. "You're clothes are soaked." I say evenly and calmly. He nods, but I don't remove my hands. He'll just reach for his boots, grab his still wet duster and then try to leave. Emphasis on try. "You're not well enough to go anywhere yet Spike." He shakes his head and tries to pull away, my larger hands don't even let him move.

"'M fine." He whispers and gives up trying to pull himself free. He's looking down at the floor and not at me. I can't let him go. Not now. "Why did you do it?" he asks just as quietly. I knew we'd have to talk about that kiss. There are tears in his voice and I can't bear to see them fall, so I sit deciding on my answer first.

"I don't know." And it's the truth. I honestly don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to do. All I was thinking was about making you feel better Spike and I thought I could by kissing you. All I could think about was how much pain you were in and the only way I could fix it was to kiss you and try to take it away physically.

He nods and decides against the leaving. He pulls his legs back onto the bed and sits next to me quietly. We sit in silence as we think about it. I know what I feel for him. I think. He's my childe. I'm meant to look after him and this is how I know how. To take him in and take the pain myself. "Do you regret it?"

"No." it's natural. Everything I've done to Spike I've done intentionally. Whether it was bad or good, it's always been about what's best for him. I decide to tell him just what's going on to him. So that we're even. He can't trust me if I keep secrets from him. "You are having visions."

He looks back up at me and shrugs. I can see why. This all means nothing to him. He just came to find his sire because he had a problem, and he's being told that he's having visions. Of course he won't have a clue what's going on. I haven't told him anything for the few years we've been in the same state. "What does that mean?" he mutters back and brushes a hand through his hair. It sticks up more and I immediately reach out to smooth it back down. He doesn't pull away.

"The headaches that you have been having, the dreams and everything, they're sent by the powers that be." I explain slowly so that he doesn't miss anything in his state. "Cordy used to get them so that she could tell me who was in danger and where I had to go to help save them." He nods.

"But why me?" his eyes have closed and he's leaning into my touch slightly now. if he wasn't so distressed I have no doubt that he would be purring. "What's so special about me? Did Cordy die?" he whispers the last part. He must be so confused; Cordy was here when he was brought in a few hours ago.

"No. Cordy's fine but she hasn't had a vision for a few weeks. Doyle used to have visions before her, but before he died he kissed Cordy and gave them to her. It was accidental but it happened." I explain. As soon as the last sentence is out of my lips, he opens his eyes and looks into mine desperately.

"I didn't kiss Cordy. I swear I didn't Angel…" he utters fast and desperately. I nod and hush him quietly. I know he didn't but it seems important that he explains this.

"I know you didn't. She was getting sicker as the visions went on, and I guess that the powers wanted another demon to carry them. Humans couldn't cope; they're not strong enough. So they must have chosen someone stronger to carry them for me." he looks back down and plays with the hem of my tee shirt.

"But why me?" his eyes are closed again and I wonder if he's trying not to cry anymore. "I'm not strong. I can't even defend myself from humans no more." I know. I've known for a while. Giles told me and I wanted to come and get you but you would have hated me if I made you seem weak in front of Buffy and the others so I didn't.

I immediately shake my head in disagreement. "You're not weak. You're still the same strong Spike I've always known." I don't add the 'and loved' at the end just in case it's too much too fast. He knows I love him…I think. But I'm starting to think differently myself. What if it's not the sire/childe love bond I've been telling myself it is for all these years?

"But still," I notice that he doesn't make comment on my last analysis, "Why me?" I sigh and run my hand through my hair. I'm still slightly damp from earliers Spike rescue mission, but I can't seem to care. My hand creeps up to rest on his shoulder in a comforting father figure way whilst we talk about this.

"I think that the powers needed someone who I could trust. Someone stronger than human that they knew wouldn't let me down." He laughs weakly at this, but soon stops as it threatens to turn into a cough. I smile down at him and my fingers play with the tips of his hair. "Someone like you."

He sits a little straighter and looks proud for about a millisecond before his smile falls and becomes a worried face again. I've never seen him show so many emotions in one night. This is beginning to get scary. "You need to guide me." I whisper in his ear gently. He shrugs again and looks up. He's always been looking up to me.

When he was younger and human, everyone made fun of his looks. Just because he was shorter than the other men his age, meant he was weaker. Well, safe to say we showed them. If they could see the files on Spike now, they'd have no idea that it was the same person. He's so different to me. Small, agile, blond, cute, childish. I love every quality he owns. And I didn't create any of those qualities. Those are pure William shining though the layers he uses to hide himself.

"How? I don't know how these vision thingys work…what if I get it all wrong and fail?" he looks so vulnerable it's taking all of my will power not to let out a girlish exclamation and hug him tighter to me.

"Every time you get a vision, it's the powers that be giving you the information to help me fight the good fight save the innocent. You'll get a headache, but be able to see what demons will be attacking who, when, where and sometimes why."

Because he does use layers. He hides himself away beneath layers and layers of anger, hate and loathing towards William, because he's scared. Even when he was old enough to go hunting on his own, he still wanted me to go with him. New punked up attitudes and clothing to hide away to scared little boy I turned all those years ago.

He flinches when you touch behind his left ear. It doesn't matter if you're his best friend (even though I don't think he's ever had one) and he trusts you completely, he hates it. I'm not quite sure what happened to him, but I think it involved his father, a drinks bottle and an argument. But he showed me it once. I brushed past it accidentally whilst combing his hair, and he shivered before bolting across the room. I asked why and he just pulled back his hair, showed the scar, told me that he'd brush that area of hair and we left it at that.

"Okay…I'll try my best." He whispers back and shivers. I smile at bury my nose and mouth in the top of his hair. It smells so perfectly old and yet innocent at the same time. Innocence is Spike. Strawberries and cream. Pure perfection is shown through his smell. Most demons smell of blood, dirt and tar. A sticky pollutant substance that contaminates and destroys. He's just strawberries and cream. And he's alone.

I ruffle his hair again before leaving him on the bed and grabbing an old hoody of Gunn's that was too small for him. Spike sits up and lifts his arms like a small child as I lift the grey hoody above his head. Soon his arms are in and I'm tugging it over his head and smoothing out the creases to check that he's warm enough. We have to go downstairs so my friend's and he can have a proper introduction and I don't want him to be cold. He looks up again with his innocent blue eyes and I can see the smile in them, regardless of the fact that there is no smile on his face.

And I'm thinking of kissing him again.

This has got to mean something right? He's told me some things that even his own mother didn't know about him. I know a lot of things that he hasn't told Drusilla, or Penn or anyone else. If he trusts me so badly and doesn't threaten to kill me in case I tell, surely there's trust? The fact that he's lying in my arms right now, isn't that trust? I kissed him and he didn't pull away, isn't that trust? He's here.

It's got to be trust.

¬!"£()+

I did it! it took a while, a lot of swear words and some screaming, but I got there. I'm sorry it's taking so long to update, but I'm so proud of this fic I want it to be just perfect. Can I have some long reviews? Hopefully with some one-liners or small things that they can do? I'm okay with a plot, but it's the small details I'm having problems with. Maybe just a small descriptive piece between Spike and one of the AI crew? I don't know how they'd react. Thanks everyone. Later.

Higgy.