Strangely out of place
There's a light filling this room
Where none would follow before
I can't deny it burns me up inside
I fan the flames to melt
Away my pride
Do I want shelter from the rain
Or the rain to wash me way?
I need you, I need you, I need you
I need you, I need you, I need you
You're all I'm living for
I might sound like a fool
But I think I felt you moving
Closer to me
Face to the ground
To hide the fatal cut
I fight the weight
I feel you lift me up
You are the shelter from the rain
And the rain to wash me away
I need you, I need you, I need you
I need you, I need you, I need you
(All I'm living for)
I need you, I need you, I need you
You're all I'm living for
All I'm living for
You're all I'm living for
Face to the ground
To hide the fatal cut
I fight the weight
Feel you lift me up
Can't deny it burns me up inside
I fan the flames to melt away
My pride
Only had a second to spare
But all the time in the world
To know you're there
You are the shelter from the rain
And the rain to wash me away
I need you, I need you, I need you
(All I'm living for)
I need you, I need you, I need you
(All I'm living for)
& I need you, I need you, I need you
You're all I'm living for
All I'm living for
All I'm living for
All I'm living for
You're all I'm living for
"I Need You"
Jars Of Clay
Chapter 5
I Need You
"What d'ya think?"
Spike stared at the medium-sized building that was nearly completely constructed. Just a few finishing touches, and it would be real. He looked down at his jeans, fishing for his trusty smokes. He felt strange, seeing himself sans his black leather duster – it had been more than a month since that final fight against the Senior Partners, but at times he still could feel it moving against him.
"I think you need to tell the Council to start buildin' you better facilities – this place won't last a month."
"Shove off, Spike."
"Get stuffed, Faith."
Faith smiled at Spike as he lit up a cigarette. Her jean jacket hid the black tank top she was wearing, her leather pants sitting tightly on her hips. He took several deep puffs as he stood, looking at the new building. It wasn't bad, he had to admit. Anything was better than nothing, right?
"So how soon until we can expect the pitter-patter of Slayer feet?" he asked, turning and walking back towards the house. Faith shrugged, walking with him.
"Not sure. Probably another month or so. Why? It's not like they're gonna invade your privacy – the house is across the street."
"With underground tunnels so that Angel and I can get back and forth – and don't go givin' me this crap line about it bein' for the girls' benefit. You did it so we'd help ya train the bints."
"Of course it's so you can train them," Faith said, opening the front door. "You owe us. So far the best you and Angel have done is clean, and you're not the greatest at that."
"That contraption of yours was ruddy well about to explode," Spike argued, trying to forget a memory from a few weeks ago. "And how do you explain it headin' straight for me, eh? Angel wasn't even touchin' it!"
"Vacuum cleaners move a bit on their own!" Faith argued, steering the two towards the kitchen. "And even then, it was not about to explode – they're all loud and noisy. Did you have to demolish it?"
"It was self defense."
"You threw it down the basement stairs," Angel intruded. Dressed in his trademark all black, he handed Spike a steaming mug. Spike glared over the rim of the cup as he drank. "We're looking forward to training the girls, both of us," Angel said to Faith, who leered at Spike.
"Why, thank you, Angel. It's so nice to have a vampire around the house who's willing to help out in return for food and a place to sleep."
"It's not for those reasons," Angel said quickly, sipping his own mug. Faith looked at him, puzzled. "It's just that if I don't get out of this house soon, I think I'm going to start seeing ghosts again."
"But there haven't been any since…" Faith looked at him hopefully. He smiled.
"Not since Willow did the spell," he reassured her. "So it's been what, three weeks?"
"Almost four," Spike interjected. "Not bad, eh?" Angel smiled.
"I guess not," he said. It had been a long, slow road to recovery. They all knew it. They had all helped as much as they could. But Spike… Angel thought back on the countless times Spike had been the one to really help him. It was strange – the two had been enemies for quite some time now. But now, Spike was helping him, even being… a friend. Angel glanced at his grandchild, smiling to himself.
"So, got anything you need done?" Spike asked.
"There's always demons and vamps; all sorts of beasties to hunt around here," Faith said. "I think Wood's got somethin'; you can ask him."
Spike pushed past Angel, walking farther into the kitchen and sitting at the table. Across from him, Wood was reading through a rather dusty text that appeared to be written in Latin. He had a plate of dinner next to the book, and occasionally he would pick up his fork and eat a few bites before returning his concentration to the pages.
"Whatcha researchin'?" he asked, trying to read upside down. Wood kept reading.
"Marvalin demons – think we might have a small nest over by the elementary school." Spike wrinkled his nose.
"Bad lot, those," he said. Wood eyes looked up. "They have blinding saliva – it gets on you, it works its way into your blood, effectively cuttin' off vision in less than three minutes."
"You've fought Marvalin demons before?" Wood asked. Spike shook his head.
"Nope – but I met a vamp who did once. He was in bad shape after it – never regained his sight, half his face gone – looked like the Phantom of the Opera. Nothing on him ever healed right, either – made me wonder what the hell those demons could do, to make a vamp heal improperly." Spike chanced a fleeting look towards the door – Angel and Faith were listening to him intently. His eyes darted back to Wood. "Apparently, if their blood mixes with yours, even the tiniest bit can have damaging effects – it can kill humans, and it tends to influence healing in vamps and demons. D'ya know what it looks like?"
"Apparently, the person who saw them said they were small – only about two feet tall. Maybe two and a half. Shiny silver skin – long, snake-like tongue darting in and out constantly."
"That's it," Spike said, sounding worried. "Any idea how many?"
"Maybe four or five."
"Shit."
"We can take care of it," Angel said. Spike looked over at him as though he had lost his mind.
"Are you starkers?" Angel looked at him as innocently as possible. Spike stood up, glowering. "I just said this will disfigure us if its blood gets us – its saliva blinds us just as easily as it does them. Why should we – "
"We're the only ones who can," Angel said calmly. "You see any others stepping up to take these things on? And they're near a school!"
Spike huffed. He looked down at the ground, frustrated. Faith and Wood simply watched.
"Fine," Spike consented after several moments. He looked up, noticeably angry but resolute in his decision. "Tonight?"
"Tonight," Angel nodded. "Let's gear up."
Angel sat in the bushes next to Spike, almost cursing his decision to bring the blonde vamp along. "You're not helping me, Spike."
"You haven't given me anythin' to do," Spike argued, leaning back on one arm while he continuously lit and then closed his silver lighter. Angel sighed quietly but made no move to stop him. He decided to go through the supplies they had brought in a small leather bag that had seen much better days. Unzipping it, he rifled through until he found something.
"Hey," he said, smiling. "Where did these come from?" He held up the wrist sheaths he had had made when he first moved to LA – they held spring loaded stakes that had saved his life many times. Spike looked at the contraptions, shrugging.
"Search me," he said casually. Angel's smile dimmed slightly, but he resumed his search as Spike sat next to him, still playing with his lighter. After a few moments, Angel spoke again.
"This seems right, doesn't it?" Spike looked at him, curious.
"What?"
"This," Angel half shrugged, looking at the man he had once considered his prodigy. "Ya know, the two of us…"
Spike's eyes widened. He was sure he was hearing wrong – it almost sounded as though Angel was really and truly happy to be around him, even if it was simply for hunting and killing a small nest of demons. "What do you mean, us?" he asked cautiously.
"Ya know…" Angel prompted. Spike still stared at him. "Just… you and me… I mean…" Angel fumbled over his words for a moment, his eyes dropping to the ground between them. He scooted himself a bit closer to Spike and looked back up at him. "We were such good friends… sort of… and we enjoyed each other's company… sort of… and I could always talk to you…" Angel frowned as he realized that none of what he was saying was particularly true. One of Spike's eyebrows perked.
"Angel, who are you trying to kid?" he asked. Angel bit his lower lip and looked away. "We were never close friends – we pretty much just tolerated each other. You tolerated me because I was Drusilla's plaything, and I tolerated you because you were her daddy-dearest." Spike saw the hurt and anguish flashing in Angel's eyes and immediately felt angry with himself for ever having said that.
"You're right, of course," Angel whispered. Spike shook his head.
"I shouldn't have," he started, but Angel cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"No, no, I needed to hear it. I needed that reminder. We weren't good friends – and we never really cared about each other. But, times change." He paused.
"Angel?" Spike prompted, hoping that he would hear the few words he desperately wanted right then.
"I want to make it up to you – everything, all the times I ignored you, or hurt you – I want to make it right between us." Spike felt his heart leaping at what he was hearing. He gave Angel a shy sort of half smile.
"Glad to hear, it mate. I uh, I think I'd like that too." Angel grinned.
"Think we should go find these Marvalin demons now?" he asked. Spike nodded.
"You got my back, right?"
"Of course," came the reply.
"You didn't warn me about the spikes, Spike."
"I forgot, ya bloody ponce. But we still destroyed them – so why are you complaining?"
"I don't like going into a fight without all the knowledge I need."
"That's what you get for stickin' me with the research bit – now shut up and hand me that damn whiskey."
Angel jerked his hand out of reach as Spike swiped for the bottle of Jack Daniels, scowling at his grandsire. "You've had plenty," Angel told him as he lay on his left side. Spike was shirtless, with several thin, spindly black spines poking between his ribs. In front of him, Faith smiled.
"Damn, can you two go a month without some serious injury?" she asked. Spike glowered at her and Angel rolled his eyes. Wood walked up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders.
"Looks like a hell of a removal procedure," he stated. He glanced up and caught Angel's eyes. "Care for some help?"
"Bugger that!" Spike shouted, catching them all off guard. "I'm not lettin' any of you do anythin' to me – I'll get these things out my - self!"
"Spike, you can't do it yourself," Angel argued. "These things expand once embedded in flesh – and they keep expanding until they kill you."
"You're. Not. Doin' it," Spike told him flatly. "And I don't want Wood in the same room even when I get these things out."
"We don't have time for your petty squabbles, Spike!" Angel raged. "He's going to help me, and you're going to lay there and deal with it!"
"You can't – " Spike was cut off by Faith's fist connecting with his mouth. He blinked several times, groaning at the renewed pain that coursed throughout his body.
"Think it hurts now?" Faith asked. He stared at her in disbelief. "Just think of how it will feel five minutes from now when those things have gotten even bigger." He looked down at the table underneath him, frowning. Finally, he looked up, staring at Angel.
"Get these things outta me," he menaced. "I don't fancy her hittin' me all night until I pass out."
Faith looked up at Angel and Wood. "I think the patient's prepped and ready for surgery, doc." Angel nodded his thanks before turning to Wood.
"We're gonna need all the first aid supplies you've got – and maybe anything else that looks useful in this."
Wood nodded softly. "I'll get the pliers."
"That's not funny!" Spike roared at his backside as Wood walked out of the room just behind Faith. "You bring pliers in here and I'll rip your eyes out and make ya eat 'em over toast!"
"Still as creative as ever, eh Spike?" Angel asked, moving around the table to see if he had missed anything else that needed mending. The skin surrounding the spines was bruised and horribly swollen, though Angel was sure that at least half the swelling was the spikes that had expanded inside his grandchild's body. He noticed that Spike was now shaking slightly, sharp breaths coming rapidly. "Spike?"
"I'm fine, 'Gelus," he heard Spike say in a shaky voice. "Just don't greatly fancy havin' these things in me much longer, 's all." Angel nodded behind him, knowing that Spike was crying, though he was doing his damnedest not to let him know. For a moment, the thought occurred that he should comfort him, wipe the tears away, let him know that he, the mighty Angel, would let nothing happen to him anymore. But he brushed the thought out of his mind quickly, choosing instead to let his boy continue to believe he was putting up a tough front.
"OK," Wood appeared in the doorway again, carrying three car sized first aid kits. "Two of these are actual first aid supplies, and one of them is a bunch of medical supplies I still have from the fight against The First. Hope it's enough." Angel nodded, his eyes still resting on the now still form of Spike. The curtains were back in place – time for the actor to put on his signature performance.
"Right," Spike said, looking up at Wood. "Let's get this over with, shall we? I don't bloody well feel like layin' here all night while you two dissect me. I want these damn things out – now."
"Patience is a virtue, Spike," Angel said tiredly as he took one of the boxes from Wood. "Course, you never were one for patience, were you?" He heard Spike huff slightly as he opened up the box to find a few syringes and several small bottles of liquid pain medications. He selected one of the bottles and filled a syringe. "Now, this is going to hurt, but if you move, it'll hurt worse," Angel warned him, placing a hand gently on Spike's side, which seemed to be one solid bruise. Spike took in a calming breath, which he held as Angel inserted the needle and injected its contents.
"Bloody hell," Spike muttered as Angel pulled the needle out again. He felt a small cotton swab wiping gently at the spot the needle had been. He was beginning to feel better though – the pain was starting to seep away, and he felt slightly euphoric. "Mmm," he purred. "I feel better."
"That's the medication talking," Angel told him as he pulled out a small scalpel. He looked at Wood and exhaled harshly. "Ready?"
"As much as I can be," Wood replied. Angel nodded, looking back at Spike's side.
"Here goes nothing," he whispered.
"I hate you, you know."
"Spike…"
"Don't you dare Spike me!" Angel bit his lip to keep from grinning as he sat on the couch on the living room next to the blonde vampire. "You're – you're a right ponce, you are."
"As opposed to a left ponce?" Angel teased. He was enjoying himself immensely. He was wearing his pajamas, and his hair was limp and slightly wet from the shower he had taken minutes before. Spike also wore his pajama pants, but his abdomen was wrapped in bandages due to the sudden surgery the night before and he had not wanted to put on a shirt – he had claimed it made him move which hurt too much.
"Bugger this," he said, glaring as he pushed himself off the couch. Angel stood quickly, worried he may have hurt himself by moving so fast.
"Spike, you can't move that way – you have to be slow, careful."
"Sod off," Spike told him, sticking a finger in his face. "You – you don't get to tell me what to do," he said, poking Angel's cheek. "I don't have to listen to you."
"I think I gave you too much of that medication."
"Yeah, now look at me – poor Spike. Doesn't know what's to do," Spike ranted, stumbling away from Angel. The older vampire stepped towards him, concerned. "I just…" Spike sniffed. "I just want to be home," he said.
"You are home," Angel told, slightly confused. "This is where we live."
"No!" Spike said angrily. "No, this is not home – home is… home is where your heart is." Angel looked down.
"You mean Italy – where Buffy is." The two were silent for a few moments before Angel spoke again. "I know – I wish we could go there too. I wish we could both show her – "
"No!" Spike shouted again, cutting Angel off. Angel looked at him in surprise. "Not bloody Italy, and definitely not anywhere in soddin' Europe! I mean..." Spike shook his head. "I know where my heart is, Angel. But I can't ever be home there." Angel's eyes widened, still confused.
"Spike – what are you talking about?"
"I knew you'd never understand," Spike sneered. "How could you? My heart – my heart is here, Angel." Angel's expression changed – he had a feeling he knew what Spike was really saying.
"Spike, you know it could never work." This time it was Spike who looked confused.
"And why the bloody hell not?" he asked.
"You know why – you know; if you look deep down inside and really weigh everything, you know it would never work."
"But I want it to," Spike whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I've wanted it for a long time."
Angel looked up at the ceiling. He sighed, trying to figure out exactly what to say to Spike that would make him realize the truth.
"Spike…" Angel looked back at the blonde and immediately got quiet, watching sadly as a few more tears escaped Spike's eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
"Angel, I – " Spike winced suddenly, grabbing his side. "Oh, I don't feel well. Angel…"
"What is it?" Angel took a step forward, worry etched all over his face. "Spike?"
"Angel, I really don't fee – eeeeel…" Spike fell forward as Angel rushed towards him, catching him and holding him close to his chest. He looked into Spike's face, seeing pain and anguish. "I think I need to go to bed," Spike told him quietly.
Angel said nothing. He supported Spike through the hallway, down the stairs, and into bed. Spike lay on his back, his eyelids fluttering madly as he tried to keep consciousness.
"I…" Spike whispered. He grabbed Angel's hand tightly, almost desperately. "I have to… I love…"
Angel strained to hear what Spike was saying as he passed out. But Spike said no more, and Angel let go of his hand as he pulled a blanket up over him. He looked around, finding a plastic chair and setting it next to the cot. He watched Spike with a concern he had only experienced over one person before – Buffy. As he sat there in the dark basement, he regarded Spike and knew that somehow, he was in love with the poet in front of him.
For the next hour, he neither moved nor looked away from Spike. It was not until he heard the front door opening and footsteps above him that he stood, wrenching his gaze away from Spike. He walked back up the stairs, closing the door quietly behind him.
"How is he?"
Angel saw Faith and Wood walking towards him
"He's sleeping," Angel told them. "I think I gave him too much of that medication though – he was a little…"
"Out of it?" Wood offered. Angel nodded.
"Kept talking about home, and his heart, and love… I think…" He looked at Faith directly. "I think he's in love with you – or at least, he thinks he is." Faith snorted. "What?" Angel asked defensively.
"You're dense, man," Faith told him with a grin. Angel glared at her.
"I'm dense?"
"It's so obvious he's not into me," she told him confidently. "And you're not just dense, you're a dumbass is you think you can prove otherwise."
"I've got plenty of proof!" Angel told her. "He's always had an obsession with Slayers. Sure, at first it was killing them, but then with Buffy, he fell for her. He told me the only thing better than killing one was fu– "
"Whoa, back up slowly with your hands behind your head," Faith told him. "I've never in my life wanted to do anything resembling that with Spike, or any vampire for that matter. And Spike is in no way interested in me." Angel crossed his arms in front of him. "You really haven't figured it out, have you?" she asked him.
"Figured what out?" Angel asked innocently. Faith bit her lip as she watched him, her eyes narrowing as though looking for something she thought she could find. After a few moments, she shook her head.
"If you don't know, I can't help you," she told him. His arms dropped to the side as she walked past him into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. He stared at the door.
"Did – did I do something?" Angel asked as Wood walked up behind him, chuckling.
"Welcome to the question I find myself asking all the time," he told Angel. Angel nodded.
"Patrolling went well?"
"Slayed a few vamps – nothing real exciting."
"Any more reports of demons nesting in the area?"
"Nothing yet – why, you itching for a good fight already?"
Angel shrugged. "Guess you could say that. I've just been so useless lately – I mean, Spike and I got here and within the first week or so you had to call in a witch from halfway across the globe, clean up all the messes I made when my sudden 'spiritual crises' hit, help get me back into physical and mental health, and now you've got the new Slayer School starting up in a month. Guess I just feel like, well… like there's more that I can do. More that I should have done already." Wood placed a gentle hand on Angel's shoulders, causing him to turn and look at the man behind him.
"Don't worry – once school's in session, there will be plenty of work for ten of us – and there's only gonna be four. We're it. So trust me when I say that you'll have lots of opportunities to make up for lost time." Angel gave a half smile as wood walked around him and into his bedroom. Angel sighed before heading back to the basement.
As he took up his post next to Spike's bed again, he noticed that the blonde vampire seemed to have calmed a bit – he looked peaceful, happy. Like an innocent.
"My dearest William," he whispered as Spike slept. "How I wish I could take back so much of what has happened to you. Even the things I'm not responsible for. I wish I could just tell you what I'm feeling right now, because it's going to consume me if I don't say it eventually. But for now…" Angel ran a hand through his hair as he sucked in a deep, unneeded breath and let it out slowly. "I love you. How I just wish you would love me in return."
"Angel?" Spike's sleep slurred voice roused Angel from his position on the small plastic chair, which looked very uncomfortable and had provided a severe stiffness throughout his entire body.
"I'm here, Will," he yawned, stretching carefully as Spike sat up slowly. "How are you?"
"Feel like the world's biggest pin cushion," he said. "But I do feel a bit better than before."
"Good," Angel said earnestly. He noticed that Spike's hair was rather untidy, and smiled slightly.
"What?" Spike asked quickly, frowning at his grandsire's grin. "I'm not some weird color, am I? Am I still pretty?"
"You're perfect," Angel said. Spike's eyebrows perked up and he looked inquisitively at Angel.
"Perfect?"
"No," Angel quickly said. "N-no, not perfect. Horrible. Te-terrible, in fact. And I think the medication is still affecting you because I never said perfect – "
"Relax, mate," Spike told him. "I'm on'y tryin' to get a rise outta ya. Though it looks like someone beat me to it…"
Angel looked down at his lap and quickly grabbed a blanket, looking quite embarrassed, which only made Spike grin even more.
"Happy dreams of a pretty little blonde with a collar and a leash?" Spike asked as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. Angel glowered at him.
"Nina is – "
"I know, she's a werewolf. I'm just wonderin', what's that pretty little poodle doin' now that Wolfram & Hart aren't around? She find another kennel to stay at or is she house trained?"
"I…" Angel sighed. "I don't know."
Spike scowled. "But you want to know, don't ya?" Angel shrugged.
"I led her on," he said softly. "It was never…"
"Serious?" Spike asked.
"I was gonna go with love, but yeah – never serious. She had real feelings for me. But I couldn't honestly feel that way about her. So I sent her away."
"What?" Spike asked.
"I sent her and her family to Mexico for a vacation." Spike laughed.
"So you broke up with her and sent her on vacation?" he asked. Angel looked down at the floor. "Oh no," Spike shook his head, his laughter starting up again. "You never broke up with her – so what, she's just waiting for you to meet her there?"
"She was," Angel nodded, still looking at the floor. "I told her if I survived the fight against the Senior Partners, I'd come for her."
"And you told her that knowing there was damn near no chance you'd make it out alive," Spike said calmly. Angel nodded again. Spike looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. "You're a right fucker, you are."
"I know," Angel said. "But I had to do that. Now she can believe whatever she wants. And it's not like I'm going back to California anytime soon. Besides, I need to be here – I need to be with you."
"What?" Spike gasped.
"I need you, Spike – you're the one person I really trust now. Faith and Wood are great, but… you're blood."
Spike smiled. "I know the feelin' mate – I need you around too." Angel beamed.
"If Buffy could see us now, huh?" Spike shrugged.
"Who cares, I say. She's with The Immortal now – Angel breath was bad enough. Immortal breath has got to be hell."
"Yeah," Angel chuckled. His face suddenly clouded. "Wait, Angel breath?" Spike smiled innocently.
"So, what've we got in the fridge?"
A/N: Wow, look at this! I'm leaving an author note! Go me! Dances
Sorry it has taken so long to update – this chapter was just irking me. It felt like I'd write five paragraphs, and then erase four of them because they weren't doing what I wanted. So please, know that I love you all so very much and I will try not to take so long with the next chapter. Hugs you Also, I've had 1 or 2 (hundred) ideas pop into my head over the past few days, and it seems like I'm trying to at least flesh out the ideas so that hopefully I can turn them into stories or incorporate them into this one. So bear with me – my mind does not always (or ever) run at a normal speed. It's usually going about Warp 10 (woot!Star Trek). So please, be patient and love me anyway?
OK, thank-you's (no particular order!) – MelantheVida, Shinodabear, SpikingJennsAngel, & MarieP – you all have left me the most reviews, and I appreciate it so much! You have also inspired me with your own writings, and in a way, helped me to come into the glorious world of SPANGEL! Love you guys!
Now, onto the topic I want to cover - I know, I know, still no Spangel smoochies. But they are coming, I promise. Just bear with me – I'm building it up until you can no longer stand it. And I think you will be happy when it does happen. I know I really like the scene (I already have it written, but you must wait for it! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!). So, please, do not give up on me yet, gentle viewers… or… gentle readers… yeah.
I promise, the time for Spangel smoochie goodness is nearly upon us. And then, I get to tease you with the idea of Spangel shagging! Mwah ha ha ha haaaa! Stay tuned!