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enigmatist17 · 1 month

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Part 1 - AU where Angel comes to help Spike after he escapes from the Initiative

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Buffy and Riley didn't notice as Cordelia slowly closed her phone and stood, one hand nervously swiping some imaginary strands of hair from her eyes.

"Cordelia? Is something the matter?" Wesley asks, currently bouncing back and forth between research texts with Giles.

"Um...Riley, is it?" Buffy and Riley look up from their conversation, the soldier a bit confused by the woman he'd only met a few days ago looking at him with concern? Disgust?

"Yes ma'am, how can I help?"

"You uh, wow you're really just like cardboard." Cordelia shook her head, and pressed on before he could express his offense. "So fun fact, Angel's coming, and you need to stick close to Buffy because he's totally going to rip your throat out if you piss him off." She finished with a grin, the room going silent as everyone stared at Cordelia and Riley.

"On a level of general irritation to dealing with Wolfram, how angry are we talking?" Wesley asked suspiciously as Giles headed for his defense stores.

"Like Doyle... like Doyle angry." Cordelia gripped her phone for a moment as her voice trembled before shaking her head. "Says he wants to talk, but you know how temperamental he can be."

"You're being nicer than usual."

"You got here fast." Wesley swallows thickly, the sight of Angel practically materializing in Giles' kitchen making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Is Sp-"

"Yes." The answer is more a growl than an actual response, and his eyes scan the room before fixating on Riley.

"We are talking, right?" Buffy had moved between the two men, and for a moment the two lock eyes before Angel shrugs, crossing his arms.

"You know Hos- the guy who escaped?" Riley bit his tongue, watching eyes colder than anything he'd ever experienced in training lock onto him.

"What did you do to him."

"Me? Nothing." Riley winced as he stumbled over his words, extremely uncomfortable that the vampire could probably hear the beating of his heart increasing as those eyes just stared.

"You should tell him." Buffy's voice is light, but both men are well aware that she's stamping down as much of her frustration as possible, so Angel slowly uncrosses his arms.

"Buffy I can't just tell one of them-"

"What can't you tell little old me?" Angel's lip twitched in a barely repressed snarl, and before Riley could move for the pistol strapped to his thigh, someone loudly cleared their throat.

"As much as I am loving this whole macho manly man dick measuring contest, we need to play nice now." Cordelia gives her brightest smile as all eyes shoot to her, and Angel to everyone's chagrin looks embarrassed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Giles barely hides his chuckle with a forced cough.

"Man, I need some popcorn." All eyes turn toward the now open door as Xander walks in, freezing in place with Willow curiously peeking from behind his shoulder.

"Hey guys, welcome to the shit show." The two finished entering Giles' home as Riley sits back down with Buffy, constantly looking toward the far corner of the room, where Angel had joined Wesley to quietly murmur about something.

"Nice to see Deadboy hasn't really changed." Xander, helpful as ever quipped, earning an annoyed look from the vampire in question. "But Cordy, you look..."

"Amazing? I know." The brunette smiled, and despite their rocky departure, it's not long before she draws him to the couch to catch him up on everything she's done in L.A.

"H-Hi Angel, hi Wesley." Turning to his left, Angel is surprised to see Willow standing near his side, trying to look at the book they were rifling through.

"Hello Willow." The aspiring witch gave a smile, and her hands fiddle with a small pouch.

"Pleasure to see you again." The former Watcher gave a small bow and looked at what was in her hands. "May we help you with something?"

"I uh, I can help you." Willow held out the pouch, and Angel carefully accepted it with a raised eyebrow. "I um, I read up about vampires who get hurt, o-or starved, because that's what Spike is like right now? So, I found these different herbs and stuff, a-and if you mix it in the blood you give him, it should help accelerate his healing."

"You did this for him?" Angel is surprised as he opens it, seeing varying bags filled with dried powders labeled for a feeding schedule.

"I may not like him, n-not that it's like a bad thing, but no one deserves to be starved, you know?"

"...thank you, this is very sweet of you." Angel's praise was soft, making Willow blush a little bit, and he gently reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

"L-Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

"Will do." He nodded, and Willow wandered off to join Xander on the couch.

"She's still such a lovely girl." Wesley hummed, glancing down at his books.

"That she is." Angel shook the bag before closing it back up, stowing it in his breast pocket for later. "Was Cordy really worried that I was going to hurt the kid?"

"Well, yes?" Wesley coughed, avoiding his gaze. "Angel, may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." Angel leaned against the closest wall with his arms crossed.

"You hate Spike, don't you?" Wesley began cautiously, heart thudding in his chest as he kept his gaze away. "You're quite upset with his state however, helping him despite the fact he nearly tried to kill you, so I must ask...why?"

"Hate is not the word I'd use." Angel sighed, closing his eyes briefly as Wesley watched without a word. "As much as he's done a lot to cause pain and irritation, Spike is family, the blood we share supersedes everything. I can't explain it in ways you'd understand, but he's a childe of mine, and I just...have to help."

"I'd say I understand, but for the most part I don't." The former Watcher winced as he scrambled for the right words. "You know I follow where you lead."

"I know, and I really can't thank you both for leaving everything to come with." Angel gave him a small smile, missing the look of surprise from Buffy across the room.

"Speaking of Mr. Hair dye, what are we going to do with him?" Cordelia asked, the conversation with Xander and Willow having trailed off as both men looked over. "I mean, I don't think we can exactly leave him here, not with the government doing all their...wait, what are you doing anyways?" Cordelia looked behind her, Riley once again squirming in discomfort.

"We -" He glanced over at Buffy, who just squeezed his hand. "I can't disclose government information to civilians."

"We don't need a whole dossier." Angel crossed his arms, his words twinged with a growl that had everyone sitting up a but straighter. "What. Do. You. People. Do."

"Learn about the enemy." Riley's response is terse, and he's trained his gaze on the floor.

The silence could cut through steel.

"By any means necessary, right?" Willow crossed her arms as Giles did the same. "That's horrible."

"I just help keep the peace."

"By hunting down demons for capture." Angel filled in the blanks, rather unimpressed.

"...that's the crux of it."

The silence dominates once more.

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The sounds of the shower alert Angel Spike is once again awake when he returns shortly before dawn, the older drawing curtains closed to make sure the main area was kept from the sun. His jacket is slung over the back of the couch, the torn duster carefully spread over the coffee table and cleaned at the least, judging by some blood-soaked gauze tossed to the side. Angel scoops up the trash and tosses it before going to the half-emptied duffle from earlier, pulling out the several types of sewing kits and varying thread he'd scooped up earlier to place them beside the familiar jacket.

"Reckon I can fix it."

"Most likely." There's a small grunt of acknowledgment as Spike retreats back into the bedroom, Angel moving to get himself a mug and Spike two of blood. The powder Willow had given him mixed in with ease, and by the time Spike returned with clothes that shouldn't have been loose, Angel is offering his mug.

"Cheers." Spike raised in before his face changed with a slight wince, looking down at the blood in hesitation before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a large sip. Whatever reservations there could have faded when Spike chugs, reaching for the second mug before he has enough time to set down the first.

"Ease up, I'm not cleaning up vomit." Angel rolls his eyes when the other gives a grumpy growl, but slows down as his grandsire scoops up the empty mug and takes it to the sink.

"Dunno what's in this, tastes bloody amazin'." The smaller man hums, one hand snatching Angel's jacket and draping it over himself like a blanket.

"Healing powder, though I don't think it tastes like anything." Spike grumbles something he can't quite hear, but a quick peek shows that the other keeps drinking. "Do you need more?"

"No, likely going to be sick if I do." Spike is lying, he could drink for days, but his stomach decides it doesn't want to listen as it roils at the first decent meal in ages. "Bloody soldiers."

"I met one, dating Buffy of all people." Angel tries to not sound irritated, but Spike giggles. "He hasn't said much. Yet."

"You'll make him sing, peaches." Spike sets the mostly drained cup on the coffee table before tucking his legs underneath the coat.

He's so bloody tired.

"I know I will." Angel isn't much warmer than he is, Spike's mind supplies, but it feels like the arm that magically appears around his shoulder is as warm as the sun. "You need to rest."

"Can't, not for long." Spike mumbles, rubbing his cheek against Angel's shirt unconsciously. "They'll find me..."

"No, they won't." The pompous voice is so soft, so gentle, and Spike wonders what he's done to deserve it. "You can rest, I'll be on the lookout."

"You can't lookout for shit." Spike tries to keep his eyes open, but the task is herculean.

"I'll get by." There is the soft voice again, and now a hand is running through his curly hair. "Sleep."

For once, Spike listens.

#buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #spike #spike btvs #angel #angel btvs #cordelia chase #wesley wyndam pryce #xander harris #willow rosenberg #rupert giles #riley finn #spangle #angel x spike #season 4

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enigmatist17 · 1 month

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Part 1

Part 2

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He doesn't know where he is at first, not that it really matters.

Doesn't it?

The room he's in is aged, and with a deep inhale, he can smell the scent of a dozen different magic's melded in the bones of the building. There's a comfort to it, in a way, Spike has always enjoyed older buildings to newer ones that have yet to take on life, take on an identity, and he burrows underneath the blankets with a tired sigh.

The scent is familiar, and he can't help but rub his cheek against the soft bedding with a deep purr, something he hasn't done willingly in a long while. For how long he's not sure, but eventually, Spike rises to the forefront with information that makes him still.

It smells like Angel.

"No, no no no it can't." The blonde curls up as small as he can manage, hugging his legs with a slight whine. "No angel's here, there can be no Angel, unworthy of wings, of life, of care."

"You're not unworthy." He hadn't felt the bed dip, but the large hand that rested on the top of his head was achingly familiar.

"You didn't kill us, me, us."

"No."

"Bad, very bad."

"No, just able to see what you can't right now." Spike hisses, Angel beginning to move his hand through Spike's curls that had grown over the last few weeks, keeping his motion steady. The other begins to mutter as he lets Angel touch him, and as the older expected, he finally relaxes against him.

"It burns..." It's a weak whisper, but he knows Angel can hear it all the same.

"I know." Spike sighs, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Angel with a slight frown. "What?"

"...I don't like your hair." Angel rolls his eyes, keeping Spike's lack of blonde to himself for now.

"Glad to see you haven't lost your edge." The smaller man gives him a glare as Angel pulls away, watching Spike slowly sit up with a wince as he scans the room. "How's the head?"

"Beatin' like you've punched me." He grumbled, slowly drawing his legs close to his chest again. "Did you punch me?"

"No, though you did bang your head when crawling through a window."

"I crawled through a window?"

"Mhm, into my old apartment. Good thing I found you when I did, you could have gotten burnt or worse."

"Oh." Spike looks down at his covered feet, already feeling what little sanity he had slipping from his fingers like sand through an hourglass. "I'm in L.A?"

"Yes." Angel wants to ask how Spike made it back from halfway around the world, but settles for slipping off the bed to gathering clothes he'd bought for Spike. "Think you can shower?"

"Shower..." The word almost seemed confusing, blue eyes flickering around before centering back on Angel. "Where?"

"Other side of the room, green door." Spike looks around the room before zeroing in on said door, muttering something about ducks before slowly shuffling off the bed and onto his feet, wavering in place as his head spun.

Man, he was thirsty.

Angel watches the Brit pad across the room and vanish into the bathroom before shaking his head, gathering up dirty sheets and tossing them down the chute to be washed. Fresh blood is pulled from the fridge and set to be warmed, and after putting fresh sheets on the bed, he heads downstairs to gather some files to look over. Of course, his crew has questions, but Wesley is his silent hand as he shoos everyone away and back to their work.

"Thanks, and sorry for making you guys have extra work on your plate." Angel rubbed the back of his neck as Wesley handed him the stack of files he was searching for.

"I think it's rather understandable." The former Watcher said little as Angel pulled out a small jar, and some cigars a client had given him a while back.

"It took me a while to get my head back on straight, I don't know how Spike will take it... but he'll come back to himself." Angel paused, staring at the small jar with a frown. "Could you call Giles? I have an idea why he...but I need to know."

"Consider it done, I'll drop by later." Angel reached over and squeezed Wesley's shoulder before he was gone back up the stairs, leaving everyone to look at each other in curiosity.

The water has stopped by the time Angel returns, and a quick scan of the room reveals the other was clearly still inside, the vampire setting down his spoils before going to knock on the door. "Spike?"

"Come back later, he's not here." The voice is soft, softer than he's heard in so long, and Angel sheds his coat before rolling up his sleeves.

"With whom do I have an audience?"

"The man whose name you've said before, with a pretty smile and eyes darker than night." Slowly, Angel opens the door, taking in the warm steam for a blessed moment that envelops him before he quickly enters the room, closing the door behind him. Spike is curled against one side of the bathtub, blue eyes flickering up from their fixation on the bubbles that covered the surface of the warm water.

"I see you found the bubble bath."

"It reminds me of that field we passed in Dublin. Do you remember how the moon shone as we danced until dawn?" Those eyes watch as Angel crouches down by the side of the tub, one hand scooping up soapy water and running it through his hair.

"I know you wrote a poem about it, hid it in my trunk under the lid where you thought I'd never know." Blue eyes flicker closed as the water continues to be poured through his hair, chasing away the dirt and grime from months of traveling in a half-dazed state.

"Did you like it?" William opens his eyes, stealing whatever stale air that sat in Angel's lungs as he stared. "I don't fear the whip."

"There is no whip," He coos, taking a moment to remember another time. "An' I did like it."

"I remember that voice, such a strong one." Those impossible eyes take on a shine at the old Irish tone he hadn't heard in ages.

"Sit forward, I need to finish cleanin' ye." William does as he's told, and neither speak as Angel makes sure he's cleaned up before pulling the stopper and standing to hand the other a towel. "I'll be outside."

"Ta." Angel quickly slips out, running a hand over his face with a sigh. It helps to know that, at the very least, Spike isn't roaming the streets any longer in his current state, something he remembers had nearly ended in his death more than once. The smaller man eventually exits the bathroom, surprised to see a mug filled with blood awaiting him on the beside table.

"If ya need any more, just ask." Spike nodded before grabbing the mug, greedily drinking the contents as he sat on the bed. It had felt like an eternity since he'd last fed, flickers of rats and other animals being drained crossing his minds eye before he's back to the present. The now drained cup is set back on the table, and Spike lays on the fresh sheets with a sigh, head thankfully no longer spinning. "Feeling any better?"

"Suppose so. Also, when did you get the accent back?" He watches as Angel winces, a bit amused as he clears his throat.

"You liked it a minute ago."

"...oh." He can feel Angel sit behind him, and only the rifling of papers breaking the silence as the city moves on outside. "Angel?"

"Yes?" The rustling stops as Spike is given the others full attention.

"Will I ever be sane again?"

"Yes." It's a simple answer, and Spike pauses for whatever Angel is going to continue with. "The screams will stop, and the memories ease, never truly gone, but not in control."

"Well I'm not goin' to be a broody little ponce." The snort from his grandsire is surprising, and a turn of his head shows Angel is more than amused. "M not."

"Spike, the world will fall to ashes the moment you stop speaking your mind. Or causing chaos. Or irritating the ever living hell out of me and everyone within a twenty mile radius. If you turn "broody," I'd have to do something drastic."

"Oh, I'm so scared." Nestling into his pillow, Spike settled so he's facing the investigator. "Who're you lookin' at?"

"A client is convinced that their neighbors are drug dealers, I think it's just some demons who aren't really hiding themselves." He hummed, beginning to drone on about the mundane facts they'd gathered before Spike had arrived to town. He's asleep by the time Angel finishes the first page, shuffling closer to the older vampire until Angel begins to run one hand through washed curly hair in a slow but gentle pattern.

Neither of them are sure how long this would last, but for now, it was enough.

#spangle #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #angel #angel btvs #spike #spike btvs #wesley wyndam pryce #souled!spike #william the bloody

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