It's an Ache

A/N: Lyrics from Sin- Stone Temple Pilots

Part Three

Holy water clouds my thinking
Sinking low now
Keep on drinking

Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong
Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong

Ethan nodded, his thoughts racing at the boy’s calm, emotionless words. The bland tone couldn’t hide the pain laced down deep within them, though, not from him. Not when he’d seen firsthand the wreck of the boy afterwards.

As if reading his mind, those sharp blue eyes caught his, the look in them reminding him more than ever of the boy’s father’s eyes. The pained maturity, aching acceptance that life can be a bloody sodding bitch.

“Don’t look so bleedin’ shocked, Doc. I mean, you knew where this was goin’, yeah? You’re the one they called in to put us all back together after they stitched me back up,” Spike muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Ethan understood. Those memories weren’t his favorite, either.

He’d come back from his year in the States ‘finding himself’, as it were, ready to settle down and make things a bit more long-term serious with his on again, off again lover. Only to find that Rupert had moved on without him, engaged to some bint he’d knocked up over their break. Which was bad enough, but somehow he’d fallen in love with her in the meantime.

Needless to say, things had gotten pretty heated and things were said that could never be taken back in a fight more furious and passionate than they’d ever had. If it hadn’t been for the fuck that followed or the crushing guilt on Rupert’s shoulders that had come with it, they might have been able to part friends.

Instead they’d barely spoken to each other, though they’d lived only miles apart, nothing but silent coldness between him and the boy who’d turned his life upside down and ripped him apart, until he’d called seventeen years later asking for his help. He’d realized that day in a sick turn of fate that he’d never really gotten over the man.

Then Rupert’s pain-wracked, broken son had somehow crawled his way into his heart as well, roughly elbowing out the resentment and anger that had been in his place to make room for himself, etching himself a permanent place there. He’d seen the boy growing up, always feeling a pang, an ache at the sight of him, spoken to him more than once but never able to let go of the pain of it. Until then.

It wasn’t healthy to get so attached to your patients, but he’d been unable to resist the hard blue eyes that shielded the raw pain in the boy, the hard-edged, rough emergence of Spike from the shell that William had been, lying dull and lifeless in the hospital bed.

When he’d taken to counseling the boy’s mother for the overwhelming guilt she’d felt over not realizing the boy’s pain sooner, for being an unknowing accomplice in his suicide attempt, and Ethan found himself charmed and touched by her as well, the circle had been complete and he’d found himself with a make-shift family he didn’t know what to do with. Still didn’t, hence his avoidance of the whole situation.

Now, to find out that she knew, had always known about their past, the boy’s words ringing hollow in his ears.. he didn’t know what to make of that.

Jerking his thoughts away guiltily, he slid his eyes back over to the boy to find Spike staring thoughtfully at him. He cleared his throat, sliding a hand through his hair as he settled back.

“I remember. But since you’ve finally told me why it happened, I think you should keep going. Get it out, so the wound can heal cleaner,” he told him, watching the boy grimace and hunch, shoulders tight.

Heard Spike draw in a slightly trembling breath, hold it, then release it slowly like he’d taught him to regulate his anxiety.

“Alright,” the boy finally groaned, slouching down sullenly, “but it’s nothing you haven’t heard, already.”

He doubted that, because even in the beginning the boy had insisted he didn’t remember much about that day, but he kept his face neutral as Spike started speaking again, voice still in the same matter-of-fact cadence he used when things got too rough.

***

You control me, soul you stole, mine
Wishful thinking
Six feet under

Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong
Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong

Wasn’t like I planned it out. Wasn’t meanin’ to hurt anyboy, myself included. It just.. Christ it hurt so bad to feel again, after freezin’ everything out so bloody long. Don’t know if it was even about him.

I wasn’t like, dyin’ of heartbreak or something all romantic-like. Fuck knows we weren’t the fairytale type, me and him. I did love him, though, with everything in me, and when he was gone, so was I. Simple as that.

I wasn’t there, at home; in body, yeah, but really? I don’t remember a day of it. It was peaceful, cold but numb. Couldn’t hurt, couldn’t feel a thing. And then that day, it just..hit, y’know?

And everything came flooding back, all the pain, the anger, love, hate. Even the good memories, the happiness, it hurt so bloody much to feel. It just hurt to feel again. Be aware.

I just wanted it to stop, go back to that place where nothin’ could hurt me again.

Walls pressed in, felt like I was on my belly crawlin’ even though I knew I was walkin’. Walkin’ into Mum and Da’s bathroom, grabbin’ Mum’s pills.

Took the whole bottle dry, didn’t need water, I was hip deep in it and sinkin’ fast. Walked downstairs in a daze, a dream, gut-clenching churn of too many emotions to handle, grabbed a knife from the kitchen and somehow made it back upstairs.

Stumbled to my knees by the bed, heard Mum comin’ up after me so I did it real quick like, my wrists, all soddin’ poetic. Didn’t feel it, ironically enough, the physical pain. I was too absorbed in the mental.

Wanted it done. Wanted out.

Can still remember her screamin’. Haunts me. I know we’ve done the whole therapy thing but I can’t stop the guilt from that. Don’t feel like I should, yeah?

I hurt her so bloody bad, doin’ it right in fronta her, then when she found out about the pills?

Christ.

But that day, when it was happenin’? I barely knew she was there, didn’t care that she was. So wrapped up in my own pain, myself, that I didn’t realize I was killin’ my own mother along with me.

I was so mad, so angry when I found out she saved my life, stopped the bleedin’, called for help. Said some things I’d give my left nut to take back, y’know? Tried to shove her away, hit her when she hugged me to her at the hospital after I woke up. To more pain than I’d had when I’d tried to stop the pain.

I’d wanted it all to stop, hadn’t wanted to face bein’ aware of everything I felt. Royally ticked to find myself still in the world of the livin’, aware and unable to go back to that place. Not that I didn’t try.

Bloody woman wouldn’t leave me alone, though. Then they brought you in and any hope I’d ever had of goin’ back to a place of peace was gone with all your blatherin’.

Between the two of you, the awkward, strained silences with Da were a blessing.

But yeah, you know the rest, Doc. You helped me get through it, use the pain, what Angelus taught me as an outlet for the pain. Puttin’ it to poetry and the poems to music.

Don’t know if I would have made it without a way to release all of that bitterness, anger. Pain. Or what kinda person I’d be.

No one I’d want to know, I bet.

The fact that it makes me quite a bit of dosh is just icing on the cake, yeah? Lets me buy Mum things, help her out, though she complains about accepting them all the time. Knows it eases some of this guilt inside that’s never going to go away but we don’t talk about that.

Don’t look at me like that, we’re never gonna be totally healthy. We’re dysfunctional but we love each other, the three of us. That’s more than a lot have.

Don’t need to beat a bloody dead horse over it. They know I regret it and I know they feel the same way for not knowin’ how bad it was, how soddin’ lost I was.

That’s all of it, the whole sorry tale.

Never spoke to Angelus again, after that night he left. Never spoke about him, either. Still talk to Xander now and then, seen him a couple times. Got a card from the family while I was in the hospital. ‘Xander and family’ it said.

Not a word from the bloody arsehole who’d ripped me apart, but I hadn’t expected one.

Sometimes I wonder if Xander knows, just small things. Like him never mentioning the bastard, though he knew we’d gotten friendly over the break that year. Knows I’m bent now, from when me and Wes hooked up a couple years ago, remember? Yeah. Well, I told him, seein’ as how if he didn’t wanna be friends with me any more after that, I’d get over it easier. Him bein’ on the other side of the pond and all.

He was fine with it. Made me feel right stupid for worryin’.

But yeah. Whenever we talk, see each other, he never mentions him. And Angelus was his idol growin’ up. Every other word out of his mouth, like. He never asked me why I did it, either. When he called while I was recoverin’.

Just made stupid jokes and rambled on about nothin’ like life was exactly the same as before I’d left. Love the git.

Hey man!

H-Hey. What’s goin’ on?

Ah nothing much, heard you had a run in with the sharp and pointy. Don’t they teach you how to use silverware over there? That why you’ve been ignoring my calls, making dates with strange kitchen utensils?

…

…Will? Hey, I’m sorry.. I’m being stupid.. Will? Come on, stop laughing so hard, it wasn’t all that funny! Oh, hey! On the subject of sharp, pointy and not funny, you wouldn’t believe what Cordy said to me the other day. We broke up again, man can her tongue rip a guy to shreds. I think I’m in love...

He’s let things slip over the years, but in a forced casual way, like, as if he knows I don’t want to talk about him. Angelus is some hot-shot lawyer now, making more money than he knows what to do with. Guess his Da won, after all.

Married, divorced, has a kid. Doesn’t see him often. Yeah, a boy, Connor. Apparently it was a real bitch of a divorce. Doesn’t sound like he’s had that great of a time, either.

I can’t hate him. I’ve tried.

Thought once or twice bout callin’ him up, callin’ him a right bastard for what he did to me, askin’ him why the fuck he did it, used me like that. Broke me like that.

Ask him what I did to make him leave like that.

Knew better, though. That draggin’ up the past only wastes the present you’re livin’ in now.

But see, Doc, that’s the thing. I’ve got a problem.

***
Dead by dreaming, sleep you steal, mine
Pools of cold sweat
Hatred burns me

Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong
Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong

He’d wondered when it would come out, the reason the boy was here. When he insisted he was fine and over everything.

Kept his face calm, a single brow arched, knowing that the best way to get Spike to answer a question is not to ask it.

Spike fidgeted, reaching for his smokes before he dropped his hand, glancing at Ethan in apology for forgetting he didn’t allow smoking in his office. Sighed, slouching further down in the seat as he raked a hand through the bleached white curls.

Scraped white teeth over his bottom lip in a way that made him look only half his twenty-three years, before saying the words slowly, as if by spacing them out, it took away the meaning of each sentence, leaving only harmless sounds and syllables.

“Xander called, he’s marryin’ Cordy next month, finally. Said he couldn’t do it without me, that a guy ‘blessed with two of the best brother’s a guy could have’ couldn’t have just one best man. Wants me to stand up for him.”

He paused, swallowing.

“With Angelus.”

Still shackled to the shadow
Still shackled to the shadow
That followed you...
Still shackled to the shadow
Still shackled to the shadow
That followed you...