The Highlander Factor

It was just the five of them, Willow standing at the bottom of the stairs, her face already taut with concentration as she fought to hold Angelus still wthe the power of her mind. The Watcher, because whatever he said a Watcher was always a Watcher in Spike's book, hovering between the Witch and the Seer ready to lend a helping hand wherever it was needed. Nearer to Angelus and still showing the strain of their earlier encounter, stood Cordelia trying to compose herself for what she must do. Lastly himself, so close to his Sire that he could easily reach out and touch him, leaning against the wall and affecting a nonchalant air.

But the emotions raging beneath the surface couldn't have been less like the studied indifference on his face. The basement wall was unrelentingly hard and rough through his shirt; Cordelia was in front of him, Wesley off to one side, and for a moment, Spike was tempted to request a blind fold and a cigarette just to complete the allusion of facing a firing squad. What would it be like, having his soul ripped away? Would it be painful? It had certainly hurt when it went in, so he guessed it would be the same on the way out.

As he watched, Cordy found the place inside herself that she had been searching for and her eyes focussed slowly, first on Angelus, then on him. She moved, slowly elegantly towards him and pressed herself close, bringing her lips up to his and drawing him down into an intimate kiss. He lost himself in the feel of her mouth, her tongue parting his lips and twining with his, her body warm and yielding in his arms and, how long had it been since he'd felt something so deliciously delicate, he could break her with no more than a thought.

From his position by the stairs, Wesley watched with rapt fascination as Cordelia embraced the younger vampire, their bodies melding tightly to each other as they exchanged a passionate kiss. His mind wandered as it seemed to do these days at inappropriate moments, wondering how those cool lips would feel against his own, that lean muscled body holding him captive with so little effort. The sudden blue flare of power blinded him, driving him backward several steps and he heard Willow gasp in surprise.

He spun holding out a steadying hand, supporting her elbow as she wavered slightly on the spot and he found that the touch grounded him as well. When he looked back, Spike was on the floor, curled in a foetal position, shudders racking his body and Wesley could hear a low keening sound that spoke of deep mind wrenching pain. Her face devoid of all emotion, the Seer moved on to her next victim, totally dependent on the Witch holding him immobile with her magics.

She embraced Angelus, surrendering and pressing herself against his naked body. Unable to escape, the vampire submitted to her kiss, his eyes darkening with lust at her unknowingly eroticch. ch. This time Wesley closed his eyes before the power flared, but the afterglow still stained his sight with yellows and golds when he reopened them in time to catch Cordelia as she fell limply to the floor.

"Unchain me, then get out." The words were hissed near his ear and Wesley turned to see Angel staring intently at him. He hesitated momentarily. Was this Angel or Angelus? "If the chip has stopped working he will kill you."

The words decided for him. He handed Cordelia over to Willow and unlocked one manacle, pressing the key into Angel's hand before following the women quickly up the stairs, locking the door behind him and reinstating the improvised barricades they had used earlier.

As the door clicked shut and Angel heard the lock turn, he immediately unchained himself and dropped to his knees, still suffering the residual pain of having his soul returned. His mind was whirling, memories still hazy as to what exactly had happened while Angelus was loose, and he could hear the demon screaming at him from its prison inside his soul. His Soul, that Spike had returned. That he had lost. Willow. Dawn. My god, what had he done? A ripping sob tore from his throat as images of the acts he had committed came back to him. The impression of Dawn's body under his hands and the plans he had made to break her to his will, the fear in Willow's face when he had bitten and drunk from her, driving her towards madness and darkness.

It was too much. This time he had gone too far. This was no brief outing induced by drugs and a foolhardy actress, Angelus had been free long enough to do real damage, to his friends, family, loved ones. His tears of regret and repentance wetted the ground unnoticed as his obscenities replayed over and over in his mind.

"Angel?" A gentle hand on his shoulder accompanied the word, but Angel was too immersed in his grief to answer. When the hand became arms wrapped around him, he fell back into a comforting embrace, and allowed himself to be held tightly against Spike's chest as his Childe continued to whisper words of comfort in his ear. "It wasn't your fault. Please Angel, don't cry. It wasn't your fault this time."

It could have been minutes or hours that passed before the wracking heaving sobs slowed and eventually stopped, only to be replaced by an eerie silence. Spike continued to hold Angel in his arms, using his Sire's presence to distract him from the thoughts roiling through his mind. He had no idea if the chip still worked; the urge to hunt and kill was still there, but that had never gone away even with the soul. There was something different, something changed inside him, of that much he was certain, and Angel was obviously Angel again so his soul must be gone, it must have worked.

"God, what have I done." It was whispered against his chest and Spike dropped his head and kissed Angel's temple, offering what comfort he could to his distraught Sire.

"It wasn't you, love. It was him."

"Willow...Dawn."

"Are both fine. Little Bit needed some stitches but she'll be right soon enough. No harm, no foul."

"You?"

"Have had worse at his hands. All healed now anyway, so nothing for you to worry over." Spike ran his hands through Angel's hair, trying to impress soothing thoughts through the ends of his fingertips.

"Cordelia?"
He
He let out a small laugh. "She's a tough one isn't she, like the Slayer. It will take more than Angelus' foul mouth to bring her down. Don't worry they'll forgive you. You'll be back to being the swirly-coated avenger in no time."

Angel let out another sob. "Buffy. I was going to kill Buffy."

There was silence for a moment then Spike huffed. "Yeah, well, that's what Angelus does when he gets out for a spin these days, innit. Single minded bastard."

undeundercurrent of bitterness ran through Spike's words and even Angel couldn't miss what was so carefully not being said. "When I'm not too busy stealing other people's girls."

Silence. This was a subject they had strategically avoided on the odd occasions they had encountered each other since and it was about time it was assedssed. "I've never said I was sorry for that, for taking Dru away from you. It wasn't my proudest moment."

There was real anger in Spike' voice when he replied. "Angel, will you shut the fuck up, it wasn't you, it was him. You are not him. I wouldn't be holding Angelus like this, I don't give a damn about him and I sure as hell wouldn't..."

As the words tailed off, Angel pulled himself upright, leaving one hand on his Childe's knee, wanting to continue the contact but needing enough distance to deal with whatever it was Spike had nearly said. "Wouldn't what?"

Spike refused to answer, his eyes examining the walls, his nails, looking anywhere except at Angel. It was not supposed to happen like this, he was going to seduce his Sire and slowly convince him that he wanted and needed him, not blurt his feelings out in a fit of petulant temper. He'd tried that with Buffy, and look how well things had turned out there. No power on earth could make him tell Angel what he felt.

"Will? Talk to me." Angel caught Spike's chin and forced his face round so that their eyes met, and his stomach lurched at what he saw lurking in their stormy depths. A dark and desperate loneliness that he knew only too well tinged with...love? It was something he'd seen in Spike's eyes often enough, and should be able to identify it with ease except that Angelus had always detested his childer's ability to feel that emotion, ignored it when he could and had beaten them when they expressed it in front of him.

He ravaged Angelus' memories looking for a clue, anything that would make sense of the words. Then it appeared; it was the look that William had worn just after he was made, the first time they had woken up in the same bed, before the games and the petty cruelties had started. It was love for the Sire he'd never had.

Grabbing his hand back off Spike's leg, Angel leapt up and strode over to the cupboard to rescue a spare pair of sweats and a shirt, the situation was too awkward to discuss with one of them naked. There was silence in the room as he dressed and then deliberately turned back toward the other vampire, still sat leaning against the wall, his eyes lowered as if waiting for the axe to fall.

He had to say something but what? He didn't love Spike; love was something reserved in his mind for the fragile powerful girl just budding into womanhood that he remembered Buffy to be, or the quiet strength and cutting truthfulness of Cordelia. What he felt for his Childe was not this, it was need, desire, possessiveness and ownership, but he couldn't love the demon that squatted at his feet.

"I..." he started, then stopped as Spike glared up at him and cut him off.

"Don't say it." The words were harsh, coming from a throat tight with tears and Angel wanted to make things right before everything spiralled out of control.

"You can go back..."

"I said," Spike rolled to his feet and punctuated his statement by sending the punch bag flying across the room, "don't fucking say it."

"It's just that..."

Angel found himself backing across the room as Spike advanced, trembling with rage and frustration. "You know, I was wrong. You are as bad as he is, worse 'cos you've got a soul and should know better. At least with Angelus I never expected anything more than a kick in the teeth."

And that comment was so grotesquely unfair he nearly choked on it, Angel had done nothing whatsoever to encourage this obsession from him and now he was accusing his Sire of something he hadn't done. But he couldn't help it. Just as Angel had perceived what resided in his heart, so he had seen Angel's rejection laid out clearly in terms he could understand. 'You will never mean as much to me as them', and it cut him to the bone. That his Sire could care more for the slayer who had used him up and thrown him away, and for the Seer who had seen all he was and had become and still condemned him. That the one person on the whole planet who should take him in, was rejecting him in favour of two women who felt he was beneath them was enough to send him completely over the edge.

The room suffered the initial brunt of his anger, storage containers and junk soaring into every corner, followed by the wire front off the weapons locker. The weapons themselves were not randomly destroyed but systematically broken, crushed and stamped on by booted feet until they resembled nothing more than scrap metal. Angel stood to one side, knowing better than to get between his Childe and a destructive spree such as this. It was only when the stairs were attacked, disintegrating into splintered piles of potentially lethal wooden shards that he dared interfere.

"Spike. Stop!"

In answer, he got no more than a growl. This had gone too far and needed to end, god only knew what Spike would start on once the stair rails were gone; there was nothing else left he hadn't smashed beyond repair. He strode across the room and grabbed Spike from behind, pinning his arms to his sides.

In retrospect he should have expected it but it had been a long time since he had tried to restrain his Childe in any fashion, let alone when halfway through a temper tantrum. Spike dropped like a dead weight in his embrace, leaving Angel dangerously off balance, then used the older vampire's weight against him to throw him over his head onto his back. Angel landed with a thud against the edge of the concrete steps and Spike hurdled him to get to the door.

The barricades Wesley had repladidndidn't stand a chance and fell quickly, leaving behind a scattering of furniture and boxes across the hall. Angel followed at top speed through emp empty doorway and skidded to a halt in the lobby, confronted by a Mexican stand-off much like the one Faith had defused days before. Gunn, stake in hand, had Spike pinned against the reception desk and Spike, in full game face was seconds away from sinking his fangs into Gunn's neck. Angel roared and threw himself across the lobby, not caring which one he stopped, just determined to see neither kill the other.

Both human and vampire went down as Angel hit them, Spike rolling and finding his feet first. Glancing quickly around at the shocked open-mouthed expressions of his former friends he headed for the door, burst through it, and disappeared into the night.

Silence reigned in the aftermath of the confrontation until the stake Gunn still held in his hand fell to the floor in a clatter. The noise, loud against a too still backdrop, seemed to break through the spell that had bound them speechless and unmoving, as the main door swung aimlessly backward and forward on its hinges. Fred ran across the lobby, Gunn's name pealing from her lips as she threw herself down at her lover's side checking him for injuries.

He brushed her off and stood up, his face grimly set. "Right, get the weapons. We're going after him."

The others started to move, slowly mechanically, like clockwork soldiers set up to go into battle. Angel stared at them as they picked up and discarded favoured toys, readying themselves to go out and murder his Childe.

Murder his Childe? Where had that come from? He quickly replayed the events in the basement, focussing on Spike's words and body language, his quiet comfort and gentle touch and finally the look in his eyes when Angel had seen...had seen that Spike still had his soul.

"No!" His voice was strident across the room and enough to stop the troopers as they began to leave. "We can't do this."

Gunn, as he'd expected, was the first to object. "Angel, man. I don't want to fight you over this but the chip isn't working, he would have killed me. And I don't think your calls are always good when there's family involved."

He turned towards the door onlypauspause when Angel spoke again.

"I think he still has his soul."

This time it was Fred who interceded. "Even if he has, Angel, we still have to kill him. He-he told me some things, before, when he was staying with us." Gunn stared at her horrified that she hadn't shared this information with him before. She ignored him and carried on. "He said, the things he'd done for all those years. It wasn't just the demon that made him do them. It was him, the man, and, I don't know about anyone else but that makes me think he'd still be dangerous. At least that's what I think."

Her words tapered off into silence and Angel could have cried when he heard what she said. He remembered his own dreams, much reduced from the years just after he'd been cursed, but still enough to drive him from his bed to pace the floor in desperation, the sounds of his victims screaming in his ears. And how he had felt when the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, the terrible realisation that had come under the influence of the First Evil that it was the man, not the demon, who should be punished for his crimes. It was remarkable that Spike had discovered this so early and without outside knowledge, and yet maybe not so surprising. His Childe's capacity for love was as un-tempered as ever, and it possibly gave him access to insights Angel had never had. His eyes roved across the assembled army, resting briefly on Cordelia's face when he saw thesh tsh that had risen in her cheeks.

"He won't kill. If he still has his soul, he will not take a human life." Wesley had gone unnoticed in the doorway of the office. He had made no move to join the others and stayed, ensconced until reason could prevail against panic.

"No way. Angel has his soul, so Spike must have lost his. I say we ship out." The Slayer was deeply shaken by what had happened, having been taken completely unawares by Spike's sudden reappearance and Angel's deft handling of the situation.

"No, Angel and Wesley are right. If Spike still has his soul then we have to find another way." Cordelia added her voice to the side of reason.

"I agree." Willow put her stake down on the couch and followed it, sitting heavily, as if relieved of some hideous burden. "Spike helped us when Buffy was dead and...and I think he deserves a second chance."

"We have a majority vote." Ever the Englishman, Wesley put democracy before hierarchy. "We do nothing tonight. Angel? A word in the office, please."

Without lookinck, ck, he spun on his heel and disappeared. Gunn and Faith exchanged looks and moved to replace their weapons in the cabinet. Fred joined them and stood silently next to Gunn, until he took her in his arms and cradled her gently against his chest.

Assured that no one was about to leave, Angel followed Wesley into the office and closed the door behind him.

It was the first time he had been alone with Wesley since he'd tried to murder him at the hospital. And yet, the man who had stolen his human child away from him, and condemned him to a life amongst demons was now fighting to protect his demon childe from humans who wanted to kill him. The irony was not lost on Angel as he faced his former boss across a desk that had once been occupied by each of them and now belonged to neither.

"Why do you think Spike still has his soul?" Wesley was cutting to the chase. Faith and Gunn may have stood down, but he was under no illusions that they had a limited time frame in which to act.

Angel sank into a chair. "In the basement. We had a fight, but before that. There was something about him. I've known Spike is nearly all his incarnations and...well, he's never looked like that before. He's still hurting, Wes. I could see it."

Relaxing into the chair on his side of the desk Wesley sighed. "I agree. He didn't attack Gunn. I can't be certain exactly what happened, but I think Gunn panicked when he ploughed into the lobby and went for him on instinct."

With a nod, Angel concurred. "If Spike had wanted him dead there are quicker ways of doing it than biting him. Breaking his neck..."

"Thank you. I don't think you need to go on. I am well aware of how easily vampire's can kill their prey."

Their eyes met and briefly held until Angel dropped his gaze. He still bd Wed Wesley for what had happened to Connor but time, Angelus and a mistimed stake had put the whole thing into a little more perspective.

"So what now?" Angel shrugged. He wasn't sure exactly where to start, finding Spike in LA was going to be downright impossible.

"Is there anyway we can check, anyone who could confirm he still has his soul."

"Lorne could, but he's in Vegas."

Wesley reached out and grasped the phone. "I'll call him. You get back out there and make sure the others don't take off."