Hell Is In the Details
Hell Is In the Details
Title: Hell Is In the Details
Author: Spike’s Heart
Email: spikes_heart@yahoo.com
Pairing: S/OC, hints of S/Lorne, S/B eventually
Rating: NC-17
Setting: AtS, AU Season 5
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I’d treat them nicer than
Joss ever did.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: Ask me,
nicely.
Warning: Very Dark, Non-con, Rape, Forced D/s
A/N: This is much darker than anything I’ve ever written
before. An evil dream that demanded to be written. I
hope I’ve done it justice. **waves at Liz**
Beta’d by: Willa, who held my hand
throughout and wiped my tears when it brought me to my knees. She smoothes my
rough edges and makes me readable.
Summary:
Spike resurrects corporeally and Angel can’t take it anymore. He betrays his
childe in the worst ways possible: by selling him out of the family into
slavery.
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"Courier New"'>Hell Is In the Details – Chapter 1 –
Three weeks ago he’d brought Wolfram &
Hart’s amulet to Buffy, intent on wearing it to help in battle.
Three weeks ago she’d taken it and given it
to Spike, and sent him back to
"Courier New"'>L.A.
second string if they failed to defeat the First Evil.
Two and a half weeks since he learned of
Spike’s demise in the closing of the Hellmouth, and
the survival of mostly everyone else.
One week since Buffy and the original
"Courier New"'>England
"Courier New"'> for a fresh start and a new life… without him.
Two days since Spike reappeared in his
office, duster and all, in a screaming swirl of black ash and lightning when
the amulet fell out of an unmarked envelope addressed to him.
Two days marked by a fist smashing into
Angel’s jaw as the blonde’s first act upon returning to this plane of
existence.
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Forty eight hours later, and Angel’s
already had enough.
“What the fuck do you want out of me,
Spike? I don’t want you here. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. And
no way in fucking hell am I giving you Buffy’s
address.” Of course, Angel didn’t have it to give, but he wasn’t going to admit
that. “She’s well rid of you and your obsession. Why don’t you go out and play
in the sunshine? You should be used to the burning by now.”
“You don’t have the teensiest bit of
respect for me, you bastard!” Spike roared. “I’ve got a soul, same as you. I
saved the bleedin’ world again at the cost of my unlife. It’s not
my fault I’m back here. Given my druthers, I’d be at rest. Can certainly
understand why the Slayer…”
“Not one more word out of your mouth, boy!”
Angel body slammed Spike against the wall, wrapping his hands around the slim
neck and cutting off his airway so he couldn’t draw enough breath to speak.
Breaking the elder vampire’s hold easily,
Spike put some distance between them. He stood for a moment, panting in an
attempt to re-open his airway and make speech possible.
“You keep your bloody paws off me, you
for you to Lord an’ Master over anymore. I’ve got as much right to be here as
you, and can say any damned thing I’ve got a mind to.”
“You always thought you were worth something,
didn’t you, boy? So full of yourself and your antics. I
hate to break it to you, but you’re still the same useless pief trf trash
Drusilla left half-drained in that damned barn. You were made to be used. Darla
and I used you, Dru used you and we all left you.
“As for
Buffy? That little girl never wanted you. She used
you like everyone else. Gave you that damned amulet because you were expendable
and we didn’t know what it would do to the bearer. She sent me home to be safe
and didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died. When she left here last week,
she was relieved that you were gone.”
Angel paced around his desk, growing
angrier by the second. Buffy’s voice in his head added fuel to his ire. ‘He’s
in my heart, Angel.’ ‘He has a soul, Angel.’ ‘He’s changed, Angel. ‘He saved us
all, Angel.’ ‘I miss him, Angel.’ Each statement felt like a blow to his body.
He strode over to Spike, grabbed the lapels
of his duster and pulled him in close, shaking the smaller man like a rag doll.
“You have no place here, Spike. No friends, nobody who can stand to be around
you for more than five minutes, no family willing to claim you.
“You can’t pick your family, Sire,” Spike
spat. “Oh wait – you can! Unliving
free from Angel’s grasp once more. “I thought we might be able to work things
out between us, being family and all. No amount of your bitching can change
that.”
Angel stopped in his tracks. Archaic
vampire lore had been Angelus’ forte, drummed into him by Darla and he hadn’t
forgotten a single by-law. Could he…? No – it’s just not
done. In vampiric circles it’s considered the
final insult and beyond cruel to do it to childer.
Oh, but the lure of being free of Spike
once and for all was too great. He couldn’t dust him outright. First of all,
there was no longer any cause – Spike was ensouled,
same as Angel, and he no longer killed humans. Second, if Buffy ever found out
– well, Buffy never had to know Spike had returned, much less… This was the
only way to go, he decided. The time to act was now.
Spike was distracted. Having heard nothing
from Angel in the past few moments, he made the false assumption that their
argument had run its course and turned his back on the elder vampire.
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Spike managed to turn around, a look of
utter betrayal on his face, before his eyes rolled back in his head and his
legs gave way. He crumpled to the carpet in a heap.
Angel moved swiftly and secured the younger
vampire’s hands behind his back with a pair of handcuffs. He tied his ankles
together with a length of rope, threading the loose end through the handcuffs.
A sharp yank bent his legs at the knees, and the rope was looped around Spike’s
waist several times, resulting in one hogtied vampire.
A quick call to the legal department,
circumventing Gunn, resulted in the paperwork Angel requested being drawn up
and brought to the office. A flick of the wrist with a hidden stake dusted the
unsuspecting vampire lawyer/messenger – one more loose thread dealt with. A
second call confirmed his plan could be set in motion.
Rolling his unconscious childe in one of
the Persian rugs decorating his office suite, Angel conceded the loss of the
rug as a fair sacrifice to the cause. Hoisting the roll onto his shoulder and
pocketing the legal form, he took his private elevator down to the garage,
stowing the rug in the trunk of his car.
Sitting in the car, stuck in the
ever-present traffic that snarled
"Courier New"'>Los Angeles
"Courier New"'> streets, the vampire had time to think his actions through.
What he was about to do was irrevocable. Spike would be cast out of the Order
of Aurelius, and dust soon after. His name and history wopasspass into
oblivion, eventually wiped from the memories of the demon population. William
the Bloody would become a cipher – a non-entity.
With a sneer curling his lip, Angel made up
his mind. He would do this, and forget Spike ever existed.
He pulled into the shaded delivery platform
of Dante’s, an exclusive demons only bar in one of the rougher areas of
"Courier New"'>L.A.
ensured none of his friends would ever track him here, keeping his transaction
private.
The manager of Dante’s, a
S’lugith demon named Pret,
met Angel at the door, sending out a bouncer to retrieve the rug from the
truck.
“Just toss him into the back room, and lock
the door. I’ll be in to deal with him shortly. Do not unroll him.”
He turned to Angel, hand out.
The vampire removed the document from his
jacket pocket, handing it over the demon.
“Just so we’re perfectly clear here,
lawyers at Wolfram & Hart. This is legally binding here and in any other
known universe and dimension. I relinquish Sire’s Rights to my get, one William
the Bloody, currently known as Spike. For the agreed upon purchase price of one
dollar, he is removed from the Order of liuslius and henceforth will no longer
be acknowledged as ours.”
“The souled
vampire is now mine? To do with as I please?”
“You can dust him the moment I get back in
my car. He’s no longer any concern of mine.”
Angel turned his back on the
He never once looked back.