First and for most I need to apologize for not posting sooner. I started a new job just after I posted my last chapter. I started a new job, working at a ranch, and it totally kicked my ass for a couple of weeks. I was exhausted and too drained to even think about writing. I've adjusted a little and I think that things will start to be back on schedule with a new chapter every week. I'm really, really sorry and hope you forgive me for it.
Bright Lights
By: Peanutbutter
Chapter 9 'How they came to be'
Spike knew there had been enough people storming in and out of rooms like spoiled children that hadn't gotten their way, but he couldn't take it, god he just couldn't. From the mouth of the Slayer, his nemesis, his enemy, spewed words of regret. He just couldn't take Molly's name on the blonde's lips, the sympathy that couldn't possibly be real. She had no idea, yet he knew that she did. If she had seen half the things he had then she knew, more than he ever would have revealed.
Nothing was sacred, or secret here, everything had a way of rushing out the more you tried to hide it. Spike balled his hand into a fist as he stalked down the hall toward the hatch to the outside. Most likely he'd find nothing to vent his frustrations on but being in these confining metal walls was driving him insane. He wanted to be blissfully drunk, but he'd done that he other night, and judging by Angel's vomiting display he'd done it even more recently. There was shit to be done and whether he liked it or not he was the fucking sucker left in charge. He had to stay sober and alert.
Spike punched the access code in violently making the keypad shake and rushed out as soon as the doors opened. He was enveloped in the night air in an instant and just as quickly he was calmed. He heard the doors slide shut behind him and walked across the ground stepping over chunks of concrete, streetlamp. Night was what he'd been made for. Vampires were supposed to live in it. They were supposed to hunt in it. Spike let his game face slip into view relishing the thrill that raced up his spine. There was nothing to take it out on. The streets were silent except for the crickets and the eerie wind that whistled through the skeletal shapes of once proud sky scrapers of downtown L.A.
The only thing that even gave a semblance to being normal was what was still shining brightly, eternally overhead. He could almost give up losing the sun for the bright burst of color the stars cast across the sky illuminating it like never before, and the moon… Its magnificence was like none other, something he couldn't describe to anyone but another vampire. Spike wandered through the darkness trying to keeps his mind empty but it was it was next to impossible. So much had changed in the last few days and of course none of it was for the best.
He didn't know how long he walked until he stopped. There were spots of green grass shooting out of the ground everywhere and some places were completely taken over, the concrete eroded and soft dirty caring life. Spike stopped at the first patch wide enough to hold him. He laid back the soft, new grass tickling his cheeks. They felt cool against his skin and he watched the stars as they moved over head and all the while losing the battle to keep his mind blank.
Spike jumped though the hatch, following Angel, his hand semi holding his side. He'd been hurt in the most recent battle and Angel still didn't trust Spike enough to give him the access code, and if Spike was at all honest, which to be honest, mostly he wasn't then it was a good plan. Right now it was just bloody inconvenient. He'd joined there ranks, sort of, about 20 years ago, long enough to gain a little trust, or so he'd think, but no. Given he hadn't actually proclaimed his love and loyalty to the good cause; he helped, when helping helped him.
The scales were tipping, the demons taking over the humans finding themselves outnumbered. It hadn't taken long for the hellmouth to over run after the current Slayer was killed and the watcher's council next to obliterated. In mere months America was nearly over run. It was odd that demons had remained hidden for so long and suddenly it was an odd occurrence if you didn't see one jogging the streets, chasing a human. At first it'd been funny, and then not so. When it became harder and harder for him to find a meal he started to have second thoughts about this whole hell on earth gig. He kinda liked things the way things had been. He kinda liked humanity, not that he'd ever admit it. It became apparent that survival was going to depend on something he'd never thought he'd do again. He was going to have to join the good guys, become a bleeding white hat and save the fucking day. Dru had split, still convinced he was crazy, when he'd told her his plan. He'd tried to explain that it was for the best, but she'd hear none of it. He hadn't heard from her in nearly thirty years, sometimes he missed her. He hardly had anyone to talk to and even if Dru was sometimes too space to understand him she always listened.
"What's he doing here?"
Spike looked up surprised that he'd been so lost in thought he'd missed their stopping in front of the infirmary. Molly had her hands crossed over her chest glaring at him. She didn't like him, not one bit. She might of if he hadn't tried the things he had on her. Tried to eat her once or twice, felt her up once and got a pretty sharp set of medical scissors in the arm for the effort and more so recently he was just obnoxious.
Spike stuck his tongue between his teeth, "Happy to see me, pet?"
She rolled her eyes her and turned her head her brown locks falling around her shoulders with the turn. She looked at Angel ignoring Spike completely.
"I asked you not to bring him here anymore, unless it was dire, and if he's got enough energy to snark," she glared at him for emphasis, "then he's fine."
"I know and it's bad," Angel confirmed. He as still holding his gore covered sword in his hand. He never put her away without cleaning her blade thoroughly.
Spike watched the blade catch the light and glint with every move Angel made. He would never admit it, but he was jealous of that sword, and more so jealous of Angel. The sword captivated him, promised him power. He hoped he'd find one; they were after all popping up everywhere. He followed the good guys around to change his luck with food and to have to power over one of those swords.
"Ow!" Spike yelled and jumped away from Molly's warm hands as they pressed on his side. "Watch it!"
"How deep does it go?" Molly asked not believing she'd missed the wide and sharp piece of metal sticking out of this stomach.
Spike smirked and turned around. The back of the sharp protruded from his back very close to his spine. "Bad enough for you Doc?"
Spike was happy to at least see sympathy on her face as she appraised him. "I can see why you came. You pull it out at the wrong angle and you're paralyzed."
Spike's jaw dropped and he looked to Angel, "You didn't say it was THAT bad!"
"I didn't want to worry you." Angel said with a shrug.
"Don't worry," Molly said, "do you really think I want your undead ass squeaking around the infirmary for god knows how long in a wheel chair? I can fix it."
"Right," Spike followed Molly into the room suddenly scared. Spike didn't want to admit it; he didn't get scared no, not Spike. One mistake and he'd be immobilized, for how long there was no telling. He didn't think he could take that, not again. Caught, trapped, helpless. He didn't want to ever feel that way again.
"Think I should just leave it?"
"What?" Molly spun away from her medical instruments looking at him strangely. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Spike sputtered, "So, bloody well get on with it. I hate stayin' in this soddin' place longer than I have to."
Molly smirked.
Spike groaned and rolled his eyes.
"You're scared aren't you?" She was so near laughter that Spike almost jumped from the table and ran, but to tell the truth he was starting to ache and his legs were tingling unpleasantly, like they'd just fallen asleep.
"Fuck you," Spike growled. "Just do it."
"Oh, poor little Spike for once he's at my mercy. Not such the 'big bad' now are you?" She grinned and flicked the end of her needle and headed toward him.
Spike shuddered, how much did he really trust this bird? She hated him; she'd off him as soon as the chance arose. "Forget it," he said suddenly jumping to his feet and ignoring the pang in his side and ways his legs nearly refused to move, "I'll take my chances, pull it out m'self."
"Don't be stupid," Molly snorted, "I'll get it out, get back here."
"No, I…" Spike trailed off. Something wasn't right. His vision was beginning to black, his legs were buckling. "Shit." He cursed but was unable to stop his fall to the floor.
"Spike?" Molly called. "What's wrong?"
"Can't," he chocked, "can't move." The world went black and he was sure he was doomed, trapped, caught, and eviscerated again. He'd rather but dust than helpless.
Spike woke with a bright light shining his eye. He blinked turning his head away from it, his pupils stinging.
"Sorry about that."
Spike turned over to see Molly putting her small light into her pocket and marking something on a chart. He was still alive, but afraid. He didn't want to try and move himself for fear that he'd be stuck. He didn't feel any pain, but that was bad, pain meant that he could at least feel.
"How bad?" He asked barely able to keep his voice from cracking.
Molly was over him again a grin on her face. "You're fine, really, got everything out no damage. The sharp was pressing on your spinal cord, but nothing serious, at least nothing serious now. A little bruising, but I gave you some pain meds to take care of that."
Spike turned from her and closed his eyes as he attempt to move his leg. His toes twitched when he asked, his leg lifted from the bed. He grinned almost laughing with relief. Slowly he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the hospital bed.
"So I can just get up, leave?"
Molly nodded, "Yeah, just take it easy, too much strain will kill you later when those pain pills start to dull."
"Right," Spike got to his feet and took an experimental step forward. His eyes fell on Molly. He'd always found her annoying, coltish in her femininity not quite knowing what to do with herself, hardy attractive, just amusing to watch, but she looked different today. Her face was clear except for a few faint freckles dotted across her nose. Her mop of dark brown hair pulled back on the nape of her neck. Her eyes usually anything but extraordinary sparkled. Suddenly Molly was beautiful.
"So here's the bottle, take a two a day, no more." She looked at him pointedly, "and no alcohol."
"Bugger that," Spike replied breaking out of his reverie with the revelation.
Molly pulled the pills from his reach, "I mean it. All that will do is make you feel like shit, won't kill you obviously, but might send into some sort of coma."
"So concerned about me pet," he grinned a little and noticed a slight red flush on her cheeks before she tossed the pills at him.
"Hardly."
Spike had never seen it before. He didn't know quite what he was going to do with that information yet. He could seduce her, fuck her to get his rocks off, work out some built up frustration. Gain her loyalty and use her to get some power. The list was endless, but, for now, he was just going to wait, see what happened. For a long time he wouldn't have thought about it, but plunged head first into whatever was sure to happen. Perhaps Angel and all his anal retentive tendencies had rubbed off on him. That all together was an unsettling thought. He pushed it out of his mind as he watched her.
"Thanks for the drugs, pet, and the patch." He called as he watched her bend over a microscope trying her best to ignore him, but even from this distance he could see the blush. Why had he never seen it before?
Unconsciously, Spike found himself fingering the spot, where if he were human, a jagged scar should be. That was when he'd noticed Molly, well noticed her as anything other than a toy. It was the first time he'd ever looked at a human and was left with an unsettling curiosity. Maybe that was why he'd sought her out after that. Talked to her, annoyed her in an almost affectionate way, and in it all; somehow, forgot about Dru, at least for a while.
He'd never told anyone about it. It had been odd enough at the time. And still it didn't always sit well with him, especially when in the end… Spike tore his hand from his side and jumped to his feet pacing the ground. Now, now it was likely the fucking slayer, his fucking enemy knew about all of it. She knew, she knew, the cunt, she knew that he'd cried over her… He screamed. Crydon screamed with him.
Blood, so much blood, her hands clutching at him staining him…
It had been going on for weeks. He'd look at her, grin, or make a lewd gesture, and watch her reaction. Sometimes it was a blush, a roll of her suddenly beautiful eyes, and more interestingly, sometimes there was a smile. Her lips would curl up, the corner of her mouth quirking upward in an odd and extremely interesting fashion. It was on one side of her face, the left side and then there was this tiny little dimple in her cheek. Her eyes would crinkle. He watched her with apt fascination as if for the first time discovering something. In a way he was.
"Stop it alright."
Spike blinked pulling his eyes away from her mouth. It was the first time she'd spoken to him directly in nearly an hour, and that was funny because he'd been staring at her for nearly as long. "What?"
"Stop staring at me alright, you're creeping me out." Molly replied. She only looked at him for an instant before slamming her book shut and getting up from the table.
"Not starin'," he argued and got up as well leaving the unread book on the table.
"Yeah?" Molly asked. "Well it seems like you've been doing a whole lot of not staring these past couple of days."
Spike was silent as he watched the back of Molly's head. "Can't help it." He confessed.
Molly spun around books clutched to her chest. "And why is that, not getting enough of the bagged blood?" She pulled a stake out of her lab coat pocket and pointed it at him.
She was no Slayer, her eyes her shooting across his face, quivering almost as much as her body. Her hand shook just enough for him to see it. She was sweating, spouting fear. She was no Slayer, yet there was something in her eyes that told him she wouldn't hesitate to use the stake gripped in her palm. The fact impressed him, and Spike wasn't an easy fellow to impress.
"Don't want to eat you, pet." Spike took a step back to prove his point holding his hands up.
"Then why?" Molly didn't lower her stake but she wasn't nearly as afraid as she had been.
Spike cocked his head to the side, "Don't know, pet." He responded. It was the most honest statement that had ever come out of Spike's mouth. The fact that it was to Molly bothered him.
"Well, figure it out and stop it!" Molly growled and put the stake back in her pocket and turned around.
Spike watched her back for nearly a minute before he left the room confused and frustrated. He'd been spending way too much time around here, the white hats where twisting his priorities.
Spike stayed away for a week. He tried not to think about Molly, tried to ignore the way his dreams about her had turned erotic. He tried for a week, and came crawling back with the undeniable knowledge that he liked, maybe loved her. William the Bloody, the vampire, was in love with a human, it was fucking laughable, but Spike couldn't laugh about it.
He stopped staring at her, and started talking to her. Before he knew it she as talking back, laughing at him. Spike forgot about the power around her, forgot his motives for helping, and oddly Angel's sword was no longer a source of envy. Angel was barely a blip on his radar.
Spike had finally been given the code to the 'base'. He punched it in happily wondering what had changed their minds. He didn't think that he had become anymore helpful than usual. Though strangely he didn't feel like robbing them blind. He and Molly were supposed to scout for supplies. Oddly enough she hadn't protested when Angel had suggested it and odder than that he hadn't either.
"Molly?" Spike called as he stepped into her office. It was dark. The lights that usually buzzed so annoyingly over head were off and it appeared abandoned. He was about to leave and check her room when he heard breathing. It was loud, but broken. Spike stepped further into the darkened room and saw her tray of medical supplies knocked onto the floor. The sterile instruments were no longer so sterile, lying in a puddle of blood. Test blood. He closed his eyes for a moment, Angel's. Spike cocked his head to the side and strode toward the wall and flipped on the light.
"So the prodigal son comes to call. Run out of money, do you need me to throw you a party perhaps?" Angel asked as he appeared from in the doorway of the second room of the lab. He looked odd, smiling, his hand clasped around a bright white rope.
"Funny," Spike said a little wary at the expression on the vampire's face. He hadn't seen that look in years, more than that it was centuries. "Where's Molly at. I was s'pposed to meet 'er on the s'rface and she didn' come up?"
"Did you miss you're little girlfriend, Spikey?" He chuckled.
"S'not my girlfriend," Spike replied vehemently. True she wasn't his girlfriend, but he didn't want everybody to know that he'd like her to be.
"Hurt his little feelings, reminding him of his long dead girlfriend, sweet little insane Dru. She was crazy but she knew how to please me," he sucked his tongue in between his teeth.
What the hell was he playing at? He was bringing up things Spike hadn't thought about in years. Bringing up Dru, nobody talked about her. Angel eyed him again making a lewd gesture with his hand, his tongue rolling in his mouth. Spike charged then his anger having reached its limit.
"You sorry bastard," Spike didn't even stop to wonder why Angel was acting the way he was, or even why he was taunting him about Molly. Spike pulled the long blade at his side out only to stop short when Angel yanked on the rope in his fingers.
She tumbled out from the shadows landing at Angel's feet her mouth gagged and her brown locks sticky with blood. Spike froze mid swing his sword quivering as he looked at her. Her crystal blue eyes were red and puffy from crying and her lips were torn and bleeding. What had he done to her?
"Angelus," Spike hissed knowing immediately that it was true when what had once been Angel chuckled.
"Not nearly as good as Dru, not as much stamina," he yanked the rope making Molly groan and fall forward, "she kept passing out right in the middle of my lessons. Had to beat her a little for that and it got a little messy."
"What the hell…" Spike sputtered unable to draw his eyes away from the shining girl he had been watching. She was broken. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" He screamed it unable to move as he watched her. A hundred plus years of forgetting about Angelus rushed at him and all of it was new again. The betrayal, the hurt, the savagery, especially to the ones Spike loved. His fangs extended his forehead shifting.
"Ready to fight are we, William."
The name was thrown at him as an insult. The Angelus he was always William, the stuttering poet, the bumbling killer, nothing he'd tried to do ever changed that view. Angelus loved to remind William that he was second, always second. Second to Dru and second to Angelus' fame, always.
"Fuck you Angelus!" Spike screamed and started his charge again. He didn't question how or why it had happened only that it had. His eyes were tight on Molly. She hardly responded, only did she cry out when Angelus pulled her hair back and pressed knife to her neck. His sword, the glowing singing sword, Spike had always wanted was no where in sight. The knife on her neck didn't stop Spike even when he saw and smelled the blood the blade was producing. He wouldn't kill her, he wouldn't.
He was right. Spike's first swing was blocked. Angelus pulled himself away from Molly blocking the swing with the blade he'd had pressed to the girl's throat. It was hardly a fair match between the sword and the blade and Spike smiled when Angelus backed a step and released Molly's rope.
"Run!" He called at her even as he was preparing himself for another swing. Angelus was ready this time and dodged quickly, already looking for a weapon, an opening. Spike tried to keep his swings quick and consistent. He had to keep Angelus busy long enough for Molly to get away. He swung a third time. This time Angelus turned from the swing easily planted his feet and swung under Spike's sword raised arm. Spike grunted from the hit and ignored it as he prepared to swing again. It hurt but it wasn't enough to stop him.
Spike looked over shoulder when his blade slid across Angelus' bicep slicing the skin enough to draw blood. He was hoping Molly was gone. To his horror she was still kneeling on the floor, gagged and silent. "Run!" Spike yelled at her. "Run, god dammit!" She didn't move, didn't even flinch. It was like his words hadn't reached her.
White hot pain flashed across his eyes and before he knew what had happened he was on his knees the sword flung from his clasped hands and sliding across the linoleum floor. He'd waited too long. Spike looked up again; she was still sitting there, her eyes on the floor, still, silent.
"You really think she's going to move?" Angelus laughed and Spike turned around only to see the metal tray the older vamp had hit him with earlier as it was once again smashed across his face. Spike could feel the bones in his nose shift and break as he slid across the floor, unfortunately in the opposite direction of his sword.
"I taught her well, broke her."
Spike could hear the words but there were still white spots in front of his eyes. Spike coughed, trying to roll to his feet, blood splattered out of his mouth and splashed onto the floor.
"Just like I broke Dru," the words were vicious followed by a heavy boot in the center of the blonde's back. Angel ground down making Spike gasp.
"Fuck you," Spike tried as his face was pushed into the hard floor. The words were muffled but Angelus heard them. He pushed hard. Spike tried to buck upward, but the foot was on the base of his spine and every time he lifted upward pain shot through his limbs.
A heavy hand grabbed hold of Spike's head wrapping his fingers in the platinum locks. Angelus removed his boot from Spike's back and replaced it with his knee, digging as his hand yanked him backward. Spike was sure Angelus was going to rip his hair out.
"Even if you killed me and saved her, would you want her? Because you know every time she looked at you, saw your vampire face, your fangs, she'd think of me, fucking her, raping her. No matter what happens she'd always be mine, and you'd still be playing second fiddle, boy." Angelus chuckled and smashed Spike's face into the floor.
"I'm not yours."
Spike hardly heard the words over the sting of the broken bones in his face. It was encompassing, until a weight was lifted from his back. Angelus wasn't on him anymore. Spike rolled onto his back. His vision was still blurry, his ears ringing, but he saw her clearly. She was standing breathing hard her blood stained hands shaking. Rolling at her feet was Angelus Spike's sword lodged in his side.
"Fuck!" The injured vamp cried and started to pull the blade out.
Spike felt a surge of strength rush through his veins and jumped to his feet. He had to fight the blackness as he got to his feet. He was on Angelus before he could pull the blade out. Spike grabbed the brown haired vamp's hands and pinned them to the floor with his knees. He reached backward with his hand and pulled the sword out of Angelus' side. He grinned when he heard the resounding scream.
"Time I did the world a favor and did you in." Spike grinned manically and raised the sword plunging it into Angel's shoulder. Spike felt the blade pierce the flesh and embed its way into the floor pinning the vamp even better than Spike physically could. To his chagrin Angel hardly grunted as the sword ripped through his flesh in fact his laughed. Spike grabbed the hilt of the sword and twisted harder, but it only made him laugh harder.
"Don't you see," Angel laughed, "it doesn't matter. I'm always first. I'll see it; it'll always be me who won, no matter what."
"You'll see it?" Spike snarled more disturbed that he found some truth in his tormenters words. Whether they were true or not Spike believed them and that was truer than actual facts. "You won't see much." Before he could think about it Spike reached forward his hands digging into the flesh of the older vamp's face, trying desperately to shut out the sounds of his manic laughter.
Spike dug his thumb into Angelus' face, feeling the pop of the eyes as he skewered it with his thumb. 'Won't see anything, bloody fucking bastard,' he thought and dug harder. He thought about Molly, thought about Dru, thought about his whole fucking life and dug deeper. He would have done worse, but Angel's screams brought him out of his rage. Angelus was screaming in pain.
Spike's thumb retracted from the socket with a squishy suction that made him cringe, almost shocked that he'd actually done it. Blood dripped off all his fingers, flesh embedded under his nails. Angelus was screaming.
"God, Spike, Spike? What's going on?"
Spike released some of the pressure on Angelus' arms. The vamp didn't try to get up. He just sobbed.
"I…I see," Angelus looked up his face a bloody mess, one good eye. Spike knew immediately what he was looking at. Molly was standing over his shoulder. "Molly?"
He spoke her name like a question, a whisper, with reverence. Was it a trick?
"Kill me, kill me please."
Those words made Spike stand. Despite the pain in his face, the aching of his limbs, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't kill this man, not Angel, Fuck, not like this. He looked pathetic covered in blood, grieving, begging to be killed. Angelus begged for nothing. He deserved the pain, the loss of his eye, the blood, and stab wounds, the anguish of his soul as the sane half of himself returned.
"Please kill me."
Spike was sure there were tears mixed somewhere in blood running down his face. His tears meant nothing.
"Pet, Molly?" Spike asked over his shoulder his eyes never leaving the broken Angel. She came to his side, clung to him like Dru when she was scared, pressed against him, begging for shelter. He was supposed to save her, but she didn't seem to realize he'd already failed at it. Just like before, just like always. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Spike left the room with the devastated cries echoing in his ears. While it was better to kill Angelus, the only way to punish Angel was to let him live, let him live with the pain, let him feel sorry for eternity. Leaving him wasn't mercy, it was worse than death.
This has to be continued in another chapter. This one is already long enough. There will be more to this whole flashback thing. I won't leave you completely hanging.