Chapter Eleven

His head connected with the wall behind him and he found it difficult not to laugh. Angel was trying so hard to make it hurt, but Spike didn't have the nerve to tell him that it didn't.

"You think this is what I deserve?" Spike asked, nose bleeding down over his top lip. Angel's eyes swam with hatred and it took him a minute to realize Spike had actually said something.

"No, I think you deserve worse, but Wes wont let me kill you." he snapped, sending out another ringing blow that connected with Spike's stomach. Spike groaned and doubled over.

"What happened, Spike? Start talking before I get really violent." Angel hissed into his ear.

"You wouldn't understand." Spike whispered back, the laugh still bubbling on his lips. Angel sighed angrily and took a step back.

"Try me. I want to know what gives you the right—"

"Ain't got no right." he replied quickly, looking Angel in the eye before wiping the blood off his nose.

"Why'd you kill her, Spike?" Angel asked evenly, arms crossing over his chest to give the illusion that he was a few feet taller than he actually was. He was menacing anyway, but the way he looked down at Spike always gave the younger vampire a lingering sensation of fear. Spike hated being afraid. Especially being afraid of Angel.

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Angel waited, eyes patiently trained on Spike. "I will kill you." he said simply. Spike narrowed his eyes and realized that maybe Angel wasn't lying. For a brief moment he almost asked Angel to do it, but his senses quickly returned and he settled on forming an explanation.

"They were going to find her."

"Who?"

"The Senior blokes." he replied angrily. Shut your gob an' let me finish, he wanted to say. But he was pretty sure that would earn him another punch in his already aching face.

"I wasn't going to turn her over, Spike. She knew that."

"Doesn't matter. They would find her. They always find her." he said, looking down at his feet. Was it shame that made him look away? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to look at Angel anymore.

"Spike…"

"They were gonna take her away and use her, Angel. She's a powerful Slayer and a powerful psychic. She could rip your heart right outta your chest by just looking at you," Spike shouted, pushing away from the wall and taking a few steps toward his Sire. "You bloody well knew that." Angel's expression changed then. To Spike it looked a little like understanding.

"That's not a reason to kill her."

"No?" he asked sarcastically, hands on his hips.

"No. I was going to protect her, keep her out of their sight. She was safe, Spike!" Angel protested, the look of understanding shifting to rock hard pain. Angel was feeling it too. The emotion of grief was too strong for his soul to ignore and it was beginning to show.

"She was never gonna be safe. She asked for it anyway."

"Doesn't make it right."

"Didn't say it was." Spike whispered, looking back down at the floor near his feet. Shame was a powerful emotion as well. He sighed and brought a hand to his head.

"Look, I didn't do it because I thought it was right. I did it because she thought it was. She just," he stopped, looking back at Angel. His expression was blank. "She just didn't want to end up the enemy. End up the weapon. End up out of control."

There was a long silence. Spike averted his eyes again, darting his gaze around the room. Can't do this…I'm such an idiot… he thought, glancing at the mahogany desk across the room.

"Out of control," Angel repeated. Silence again. Spike shifted his weight and glanced at his Sire. The pain was back. "Like you." he finally said. Spike sighed and nodded.

"Yea, like me."

Angel sighed too and stuffed his hands into his pockets. It seemed that the anger had simply washed out of him and left an empty shell standing there with a sad and pitiful look on his face.

"Why did she ask you?" Angel asked suddenly. Spike just shrugged.

"Guess she figured I'd understand. Play with my heartstrings, so to speak." Spike replied, nodding.

"You didn't have to kill her." Angel said weakly. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"Yeah, I did," Spike replied gravely. "Bein' like that, knowin' the Big Bad's after you. No one can live like that. No one wants to be out of control, Angel. Not even you."

The silence was back. Angel must have been turning Spike's words over because his brow was furrowed slightly and a frown creased his lips. It occurred to Spike that maybe he was thinking about all that Buffy had told him about last summer. About Spike. About the First and about the soul. Maybe Angel really did understand. Spike inwardly chuckled and realized the error in his thinking. Angel never understood much of anything Spike did. It was rare that they ever saw eye to eye.

"You gonna do it?"

"What?" Angel's head snapped up curiously.

"Kill me." Spike said, meeting his Sire's gaze. The look was blank again.

"No." he replied, shaking his head.

Spike didn't even ask why. He just let Angel turn and walk away, hands still stuck in his pockets, head hung in a symbol of quiet defeat.

"I understand." he said stiffly as he opened the door. "I get it, Spike."

The door to the office shut with a click and Spike was alone.

Epilogue…