Fangless.Sequel

Angel let out a long sigh and tightened his hold on the blonde vampire in his bed. With curious eyes, he stared down at the bleached blonde hair on top of his childe’s head. It was now curly, and had nearly returned to its natural color. He, or rather Angelus, used to love William’s naturally curly locks.

As Angel caressed Spike’s hair, he felt anger well up inside himself because he'd allowed Spike back into his life.

A growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and he fisted Spike’s hair - yet, there was no reaction. Spike neither complained nor did he even wince, the blonde vampire simply remained unmoving. That’s when Angel felt it again, that same feeling of pity and sense of loss for Spike -- the same feeling he'd had the night the blonde had shown up at the hotel.

Grabbing Spike’s hand in his own, Angel laid it on his chest near the blonde's head and turned it so that he could stare at Spike’s palm. He’d expected to see a burn mark where he had shoved a lit cigarette butt into Spike’s hand. Vampires healed too quickly for anything like that to have still shown up a week later. But, he checked, and felt guilty for it.

For days he'd wondered exactly how things had come to this. When had life seemed to start crashing down around his head? When had hope become despair?

He remembered the first time he had laid eyes on Spike in this state. His childe had been lying in the center of the lobby, dried blood covering his mouth and chest. What was he supposed to think? Only hours prior he had watched his former sire and childe burn in the flames he had caused, so why did it bother him so much that he'd purposely singed Spike?

“Do you remember?” Angel asked -- once again caressing Spike’s hair. “Remember the first year I turned you? You hated so much to not be by my side.”

He chuckled softly, a sad smile spreading over his face. This was the last time he would try to connect with his childe through past memories. There were several reasons why, one being he just didn’t have it in him to continue this every night - regaling his childe with his favorite memories, trying to make that connection. Only to have all his attempts fail because nothing would get through to Spike.

“I remember the first time I left you to go with Darla to France. You had to be so strong William, only turned a month and already I had to leave you to be with my sire. But you tried, and when I got back you were in your room -- trying desperately to wipe the tears from your eyes because you hated so much when I thought of you as frail. You never did like that, did you? Always had to be so strong William, so much so that you changed your name to Spike - I still prefer William though.”

The last comment was meant to get a rise out of Spike. But as always, the blonde said and did nothing.

They lay there in silence. Angel once again found himself alone. Funny how you could be with someone and still you were alone. That unspeakable thought crossed his mind again and he began to tremble. He’d thought it over and at first he couldn’t deal with it. The idea that he could still care for Spike after so long terrified him -- but Angelus always had a certain pride in the boy. But Spike was Angelus’ boy, not his.

And that’s where the confusion lay. Was Spike his responsibility? Was it his obligation as sire to take care of his childe and try to fix this? Immediately he knew the answer was yes. Spike was his responsibility, and there was nothing more to it. But obviously, it wasn’t that simple. If Spike ever recovered, he’d kill more innocent people - because it was in his nature. Angel couldn’t set something like that loose. He’d attempted to kill Darla and Drusilla for the same reason.

But he knew they were both alive, because he would have felt Drusilla's passing.

The trembling wouldn’t stop, and he could barely move his hand from Spike’s waist to do something he‘d dreaded for so long. It simply terrified him, and he’d spent days looking at his childe with wide eyes -- not actually able to imagine Spike not being there.

Why did Spike have to come back? Why to him?

Angel reached into his pocket, and pulled out a stake. He held it firmly, but soon began to shake slightly. Holding Spike closer, Angel kissed the soft blonde hair.

“You’re never going speak to me are you?” he whispered. As always, his question went unanswered. The silence drove him insane. At that moment, he realized that he’d probably lost Spike forever and that he would never be strong enough to fix this.

After another kiss to the blonde head -- Angel laid Spike directly on top of him. Spike’s head, like the rest of his body, lay limp. For the past week the blonde let himself be guided and moved like a piece of furniture. It infuriated Angel beyond comprehension, and when he laid eyes on his childe he felt as though this needed to be done.

That he should do the compassionate thing and stake Spike himself.

With one hand firmly gripping the blonde curls -- the other holding the stake -- Angel lifted Spike’s head so that he could look into his boy’s eyes and try to reach him one last time.

Spike looked back at him, blinking tears from his eyes. Angel knew Spike wouldn’t stop crying. It was all the blonde did. What disturbed Angel most was that Spike had an empty stare, and that the tears were never accompanied by sobs. They fell from the blonde's cheeks in an unending stream.

Holding the stake to Spike’s back, directly over the blonde's heart, Angel placed the wooden point against the smooth pale skin. His hand was still shaking as the stake pricked Spike’s flesh, causing a few drops of blood to flow down the slender back.

“Did you know I set Dru on fire?”

Spike didn’t react. Dru had meant everything to Spike, and Angel couldn’t fathom why his childe no longer seemed to care. He’d asked him, but there were only two words Spike seemed to know. Two words which infuriated Angel, and had caused him to punch several holes in his own wall. This so he didn’t have to take his anger out on his once beloved childe. Angel clutched the stake tighter, tears welling up in his eyes.

Why was this so damn hard?

“Spike, please!” he pleaded. “Just tell me I’m doing the right thing. Let me know this is what you want? Please, tell me what you want?”

More tears were blinked away, and Spike muttered the only two words Angel had heard him say during the past week.

“My master.”

The tears flowed down his face, and immediately Angel let his demon out. His sorrow filled golden eyes stared into Spike’s blue ones, and he nuzzled the blonde's neck. He emitted a purr as more tears fell from his face and onto Spike’s shoulder -- he could feel Spike’s own tears on his neck.

“What do you want Spike? I need to know what I can do.”

“My m-m-master,” Spike murmured. Angel growled against Spike’s skin, and tried to hold down his anger. He didn’t want to have to stake Spike in a state of rage, because Spike didn’t deserve that. What his childe deserved was to have a mourning sire that harbored no ill will towards him. He needed a sire to take away his misery - and beyond death, Angel had no other means of doing so.

One day, he’d find this master and kill the bastard himself - but not now. Now he needed to do this.

For Spike, he reassured himself.

“I’m your sire Spike. I cared and looked after you for more than twenty years, and I raised you as a strong master. But that’s because you were already strong William - I can’t take total credit for the vampire you became. And you’re still such a pain in my ass,” he chuckled sadly. “You had a hack torture me over a stupid ring. Even before then you nearly got me killed in Sunnydale. And yet, I still care for you.”

Angel watched as the stake became blurry -- tears flooded his eyes.

“The things you do to me boy.”

He placed his hand flat on Spike’s head, and buried the blonde's head into his shoulder. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the stake. Making a final prayer, he hoped he was doing the right thing - and he prayed that his childe would find peace.

“I still love you Spike,” he murmured in his childe's ear.

Readying the stake, he kissed Spike a final time -- letting it linger to savor Spike’s final moments.

His grip on the stake strengthened, he counted down from three; and then he screamed out his anguish.
~*~*~*~*
Dawn sat still, clenching her fists tightly in her lap. The tears had stopped, but still she found it hard to speak. Looking at her hands she became mesmerized by her involuntary shaking. Several long minutes must have passed, she wasn’t exactly sure - but Angel had stormed off. The vampire had been growling angrily before he had disappeared up the stairway.

Then she felt a firm squeeze on her shoulder, which had momentarily surprised her. Buffy stood at Dawn's side staring blankly at her sister. It made Dawn want to scream, but she couldn’t gather enough strength to open her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Buffy said softly before wrapping her arms around Dawn, vainly attempting to console the inconsolable.

Dawn‘s eyes widened and she took a deep breath. Finally her lips moved, and she simply muttered, “Why?” It was a question she seemed to ask a lot lately. Somehow she knew her question would never be answered, because no one ever gave her the whole story. Everything had to be watered down, re-worded or just dodged and it wasn’t fair. She needed to know why Angel had staked Spike.

Spike must have been so hurt, possibly terrified - and Angel must have staked him in a fit of rage. It was the only scenario she could come up with. Angel and Spike never got along. They were enemies in Sunnydale, she remembered. So it wasn’t a stretch for her to conceive the idea that Angel had staked Spike simply out of spite.

Buffy answered her question with a simple, “…I don’t know…” And that wasn’t enough.

Dawn pushed Buffy away, meeting her sister's eyes. “I don’t accept that! You - ,” she accused. Her voice rose, and the urge to vent her anger became overwhelming. Perhaps it wasn’t fare to blame Buffy. But she needed to blame someone. “It’s all your FAULT! You knew they hated each other and you chose that psycho to help Spike? It‘s all your fault,” she muttered.

Dawn stormed off, heading up the stairway to look for Angel. At the first step Buffy grabbed her arm and attempted to stop her. Dawn shrugged her off, but a few steps up she was grabbed again. She turned to stare at Buffy -- her sister giving her a warning glare. That’s what upset her most, because Buffy just didn’t seem to care, and Dawn screamed at her sister to let her go. Buffy didn’t, and Dawn sank to the floor - burying her face in her knees and refusing to meet Buffy’s now sympathetic gaze.

“Why won’t you let me go?” Dawn questioned weakly. Raising her head from her knees, her eyes caught Buffy’s, and immediately she turned away. She couldn’t look at Buffy any longer. She felt as though she was going insane, and all she needed was answers. For someone to just once tell her the whole story, and not give her the brush off.

“Because first, I don’t want you getting more upset - and second, I don’t want you to be alone with Angel. Now can we go?”

Dawn stared up, trying to peer through the darkness of the halls upstairs. The thought crossed her mind to make a run for it. If she ran, and found Angel before Buffy could stop her; then they’d both have no choice but to explain to her exactly why Spike was gone - why this all had to happen.

“Don’t even think about it,” Buffy said sternly and sat down next to Dawn. They both sat for a while, neither speaking. Buffy looked at Dawn briefly, and noticed tears welling up in her sister’s eyes. Quickly, she stretched out a hand to wipe a tear that had yet to fall; but just as quickly she pulled back.

“Why can’t I talk to him?” Dawn asked, still refusing to look in Buffy’s direction.

“I… just don’t think it’s a good idea. Angel’s…”

“You didn’t tell him did you?” Dawn interrupted as she realized the truth. “He didn’t even know what had happened to Spike did he?”

Buffy’s silence answered her question, and Dawn’s voice became cold. “Then it really is your fault. Spike‘s gone Buffy, and he‘s never coming back. I really hope nothing like that happens to me, I‘d hate to die on your watch too.” A tear fell from her face and she quickly wiped it away. She stood and quietly announced that she was ready to leave. Buffy never spoke, and Dawn hadn’t turned to face her -- it was enough that Buffy remained silent.

Peering back at the dark hallway Dawn began to shake. Another tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. She lowered her hand and briefly brushed it across a small bulge in her jeans. Then she remembered the photo and necklace in her pocket. Reaching into her jeans, she palmed both items. More tears began to well up in her eyes and she felt sick. It just wasn‘t right. She deserved answers -- and so did Angel. Even if she resented the vampire for taking Spike away, she didn’t feel it was right for him not to know the whole story either.

Dawn glanced back at Buffy, who was already walking toward the exit - and she ran up the stairs. She heard her name called out, followed by the sound of Buffy’s footsteps echoing through the hallway after her. More shouts of her name, more loud thumps of feet running, and she knew Buffy was catching up.

Dawn ran faster, her legs feeling exhausted for such a short time of running. But she wouldn‘t allow herself to stop. It seemed to be an endless stream of hallways, each the same as the last. More doors zoomed by her head as she ran further from Buffy’s voice. Soon, she lost her breath and slumped against the wall-- panting furiously.

She had traveled another floor up, and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs clued her in that Buffy was near. Her eyes widened and she looked to her left to find a long hallway with what seemed to be endless rows of doors. She looked to her right; the same.

Breathing faster, Dawn felt on the verge of passing out. When her breath slowed a bit, she felt her limbs begin to shake. The footsteps became louder, nearer. Dawn moved both hands flat against the wall behind her and attempted to stand. She felt weak and tired; nearly falling over -- but she managed to stand. Quickly she tried to reach the nearest door. Her hand trembled as she put it on the knob. It seemed to take all her strength but she managed to turn and push. Immediately she stumbled into a dark room and shut the door behind her. Slumping against the nearest wall, she shut her eyes.

Dawn clutched both hands over her heart and took the time to catch her breath. When she was calmed and satisfied Buffy wouldn’t find her, she slowly opened her eyes. The room was shrouded in complete darkness, and she couldn’t even make out her hand as she held it in front of her face.

Fearful thoughts plagued her mind. What was she going to do now? She told herself to be calm, she could get through this.

Then she froze. The sound of muffled moans followed by quiet sobs eerily echoed through the room. She held her breath and felt the beating of her heart steadily rise. There were turning, ruffling sounds of someone restlessly churning. Now she could hear her own heart beating. Terrified and helpless in the dark, she placed shaky hands over her mouth and attempted not to scream.

“M-master,” a soft moan pierced her ears. The voice echoed, and another ‘master’ was moaned. Dawn felt as though her heart had stopped. She slowly stood back, remaining against the wall - and her hands reached out -- searching for a switch, anything so that she could see clearly.

The murmuring voice echoed ‘master’ once more, and she frantically began to pat her hands against the wall. Finding the switch, she quickly turned the lights on. Dawn’s eyes widened, her pupils shrank, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Spike,” she gasped in surprised. The vampire lay on a bed in front of her, turning restlessly, moaning in anguish for his master. The only clothing Spike wore was the tight black shorts Dawn had remembered seeing in the photo. Spike turned on his side, facing her, and the vampire's mouth slowly opened. Her heart clenched as she caught a glimpse of two hollowed places in Spike’s mouth. The tears built up further, and she remembered what had happened to Spike’s fangs. And though she'd known all along that she had them, it still shocked her to see them missing from a vampire whom she'd once considered a friend.

Dawn placed her hands over her mouth, and tears streamed down her face. It was too much for her, and she wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Her mind seemed to go blank, and she found it impossible to move.

“Spike?” Dawn's muffled voice questioned shakily.

The vampire slowly opened his eyes, those piercing blue eyes she remembered so well, and stared directly at her. Spike didn’t respond to her though. The vampire appeared as though he were looking right through her. She might as well not have been in the room at all. But Dawn saw the tears in Spike’s eyes, and the vampire blinked them away.

Silence enveloped the room as Dawn stood in shock, her body trembling. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but not this. The creature in the bed didn’t seem like Spike at all - just a silent, crying mess. It was too much for her to handle, and she nearly collapsed on the floor - allowing her tears to overcome her. But, she needed to touch him. To make sure Spike was real and this wasn’t a dream.

Slowly, she approached the vampire. Her hand reached out, shaking because she was almost afraid if she touched Spike he’d disappear. Coming closer, her hand loomed over the vampire’s head. Spike made no attempt to stop her, and simply remained unmoving. Dawn’s hand remained elevated over Spike‘s head, because now she was too terrified to touch him. Stomach clenching, she felt the need to vomit. And briefly her thoughts went to Riley, and what that monster had done to Spike.

Then the door slammed open, and Dawn turned quickly expecting to see Buffy.

With a thump, Dawn found her back against the wall. Her hands held tightly over her head.

With a snarl, the vampire leaned in and glared at her with fiery golden eyes, “I thought I told you to leave!”

TBC