Salvation of the Fallen

Written by Ashen Ravenwing

Prologue

Spike couldn't believe he was standing in this doorway again. That he was in LA, at Angel's office, and in trouble once more. It had never been in his nature to depend on others for help or comfort... Especially his grandsire. Their last encounter hadn't been under the best of circumstances either... what with the whole torturing bit. He was surprised, to say the least, that Angel hadn't thrown away his new sense of forgiveness and redemption to skin him alive as soon as he'd regained his strength... The blonde sighed inwardly at the memory which was still so crisp in his mind that he could still hear his 'masters' cries of agony, smell his blood mixing with the damp scent of aged plaster. Spike shivered, shaking his head to rid himself of the inner visions.

" So... You going to tell me why you're here Spike? Or just stand there bleeding on my doorstep all night?"

Angel looked down at the battle worn vampire, grimacing slightly at the deep lashings that marred the peroxide blonde's face and chest making it look like he'd picked a fight with a grizzly. Internally, the elder night breed felt a surge of satisfaction course through him at seeing his grandchilde put in his place... Especially after all the chaos he'd caused over the past years.

" I was thinkin' bout it pet... that is... unless you decided to be a gentleman and invite me in..?"

Spike smiled weakly, lifting a cigarette to his lips and cupping his hands around a match to light the cancerous stick. Although his punkish rebel style of clothing and ' I don't give a fuck' attitude seemed to complement his new set of lashings... Angel could see in the younger vampire's deep cornflower eyes that Spike was beat and exhausted. Though the dark brunette felt that his grandchilde could still pack quite a powerful punch against a human or lower class demon, the obvious droop in Spike's soft eyelids spoke far more clearly of his weariness.

" Spike... Don't address me like that... We're not friends..."

Angel growled the last statement with uninhibited malice, his dark eyes narrowing down at the younger man. Spike took a long pause, his softer eyes studying his grandsire with silent reserve. He took a few puffs on his fag before pulling out a long drag and holding it. Angel grit his teeth, getting agitated at the other man. Spike could feel the tension mounting between them and didn't particularly feel like throwing fists at the older night breed... Mostly because he knew without a doubt that at the moment, Angel could smash him to a bloody pulp. His gaze flickered down towards his steel-toed boots, and he mumbled softly.

" So... You gonna invite me in or not?"

" No."

Angel countered without hesitation. He knew Spike couldn't enter the hotel without permission. Call it the 'Vampire Rules of Conduct' if you would... Even though Angel lived within the walls of the abandoned hotel, his associates also made lodging of the old building and they were human. Well, most of them anyway... Fred didn't quite qualify... but Cordy, Wes, Gunn, and Connor did. Without permission, there might as well have been an anti- vampire force field at every entrance. Spike looked disappointed but covered up the obvious hurt expression with a seedy grin.

" Aw, c'mon mate... You wouldn't really turn away an injured man would ja?"

Spike took a tentative step forward only to receive a warning growl from Angel. He quickly stepped back again, his eyes a bit more wary.

" You're a vampire Spike... I'm not too worried. I'm sure your wounds will heal within a few hours... Though, your pride might take a bit longer, hn?" Angel spoke in the flat monotone voice that he knew grated on the younger man's nerves. The Brit pulledhislips backinto a crude and humorless grin, his azure eyes flashing. He rocked his bottom jaw from side to side, the brown filter of his cigarette rolling between his teeth before he pursed his lips back over it to take a thoughtful drag.

"Hn... yeh well.. I guess I had a few shots comin' eh mate? I didn't realize you were still so bloody sore about that whole 'torture' bit..."

Spike flinched as the door was suddenly slammed in his face. The vampire spit the butt of his fag out onto the damp pavement and ran a tapered hand through his bleached hair.

" Yeesh, guess I was wrong... Sodden twat..."

Spike growled with irritation, turning on his heel and stepping out into the light haze of rain that clung to the cool LA night air. He didn't know why he'd even bothered coming to Angel in the first place... They hadn't been particularly close in years.. not since China and the betrayal... Now that he thought back.. it may have been longer than that. Dru's disobedience, followed by Darla's death and resurrection as Drusilla's childe... only to be followed once more in death... It had all left Angel rather bitter... especially towards Spike. Though none of it had really been his fault, the 'redeemed' Angelus seemed to blame all of the events that had occurred on the young blonde. It wasn't fair... Bloody cruel actually... It hadn't always been that way between them... There had once been understanding, patience... even compassion... Spike felt the shiver run down his spine at remembering the old days... Days when Angelus still called upon him by his true name with tender fondness in his deep voice...

"Fucking 'ell... I need a stiff drink..."

He glanced around the deserted street, briefly watching the wet reflections of changing street lights dance across the rain soaked asphalt. He shook the droplets clinging to his bleached hair and hunched into his blazer, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned from the hotel that housed a man of too many painful memories and headed towards the nearest pub to loose himself at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey...