Not a word from Angel, like always.
A/N: Ok, hey! I don't know it this has been done before but I don't really care because I'm going to post it anyway. This is a one-shot and will not be continued! Which most people will probably be grateful for because I think this is pretty bad. But don't flame me! If you don't like it don't review and if you do, review.
Disclaimer – You know the drill, I don't own anything…yada, yada, yada…
WARNING – Slash-ish if you know what I mean, just some guys hugging and stuff like that, understand?
The A.I team merrily made there way up the steps towards home. "Are you sure about that?" Fred stammered.
"Trust me. Tacos everywhere-and-soap!" Cordelia animated, looking at the filthy scientist.
Gunn laughed. "Yo, that portal jumping is a fun ride. We sell it to a theme park we could get paid!" He suggested with Cordelia's 'money on the brain' persona.
Angel pushed to the front as they got to the doors leading into the hotel itself. "Okay. Can I say it? I wanna say it." He smiled childishly at Wesley.
"Say what?"
Angel pushed the double doors open, walking into the lobby. "There's no place like..." His cheerful voice trailed off at the sight before him. Spike sat on the circler sofa in the middle of lobby eyes down cast and glazed over. Angel couldn't take his mind off the blood matted hair it screamed violence and death.
Fred gasped covering her mouth against the bile threatening to come.
"Spike!" Cordelia's shrill voice bounced off the high ceiling. "Spike's in the hotel! Do something Angel!" She yelled hiding behind the large vampire.
Angel just stared down at the blond; he hadn't moved an inch since they came in. This wasn't like him; he was an energetic, hyperactive, pain in the ass. Angel was seriously disturbed.
Been violently shaken brought Angel back to the real world. "Angel, man, what's up with you?" Gunn asked concerned, he didn't class the guy in the lobby as a threat like Cordelia did so wasn't bothered by it.
Slowly, Spike got to his feet and turned haunted eyes on his Sire. A stake materialized in the older vampire's hand and Cordelia shoved him at Spike. He stumbled for a couple of steps then righted himself inches from Spike's face.
The blond's empty eyes filled with tears and defences broke, he fell forward and clutched Angel tightly, sobbing into Angel's chest. "I couldn't save her. I couldn't save them. I failed." Angel's arms awkwardly patted Spike on the back, but no soothing words were said and no real comfort given. There was nothing he could say.
It had been a restless night, Spike had been plagued by nightmares of what he could have done to save her, and Angel, now, had clips of the events. A telephone call to the Summer's house had confirmed it. The Slayer was dead.
The love of his life was dead and he felt…hollow…numb. He was waiting for the shock to subside and for the grief to kick in. This gave him time to think, she had had a good life, longer than most slayers. She'd had friends and family by her side whenever she needed them. But all this couldn't stop the nagging guilt which repeated the same question over and over in his mind. What if he had been there?
He was somewhat grateful when Spike woke up; puffy eyes from crying, voice coarse croaking for blood. He looked famished and there was so much Angel needed to say and ask…
…Was she in a lot of pain when she passed? ...
…I'm sorry you had to see he go…
…Are you ok? ...
…What will you do now? ...
…Do you have anywhere to go? …
…If you need me I'm here…
… because contrary to popular belief, Angel did care for Spike. They just didn't see eye to eye on most things.
However Angel wouldn't say anything, like always he wouldn't show any affection other than necessary to the younger vampire because Angel knew it would be taken with hostility and probably thrown back at him with insults and curses that Spike thought suitable.
Angel snapped out of his thoughts to see Spike shuffling though his pockets. He mumbled something about keeping a promise to a lady before sweeping out of the lobby. Not a word from Angel, like always.
(A/N – P.S, I was never any good at grammar and spelling so please don't pick me up on it)