Once It Begins

I am very sorry for the delay. I hope to write and post more soon!
My other fic - Gotta Get Away - is on a short break for about a week. Sorry.



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Beta’ed by my wonderful JOOLZ
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06 Blind & Blood


Giles suppresses a groan when the doorbell jingles for the thousandth time. And it’s just early afternoon. He stands up like a man twice his age, feels older now than ever before. Maybe he should have accepted Anya’s offer to help him, but he was never someone who could admit needing help or even take it. He knows he could have avoided a lot of problems in his past if he had asked for advice but…

Confused, he takes in the three people at the entry. There is Buffy, his precious slayer, clutching so hard on Willow’s arm that the redhead’s face is contorted in discomfort, maybe even pain. Red, he calls her in his head. Not because he heard his countryman say it as an endearment but because he has to keep her ‘nameless’ sometimes so emotions won’t distract him in his judgment. Red has to be kept under close scrutiny, he can feel the power vibrating from her core and sometimes that power makes his skin crawl because it is not an entirely ‘white’ feeling he gets.

In contrast to the other witch, Tara, who is so bright red in her face that it nearly hes hes her girlfriend’s hair. Tara is in full control of her current abilities and the developing new ones. Her mother taught her well and Giles feel sorry that the male part of her family made the girl so insecure of herself.

“GILES!” Buffy screams at the top of her lungs and he jumps. Why should she cry out like that for him when he’s only a few paces… Oh my. Hectically he grabs his glasses and starts to roughly polish them in an attempt to calm himself. She is blind! The Slayer is blind! His mind runs through the routines the watcher council established for hurt or incapable slayers. Sure, he had abandoned the council but in this case the rules were clear and reasonable. The world, the hellmouth needs a fully functional Slayer.

“I’m here.” He chokes out, not able to look directly at the unseeing eyes of the girl whose death he just planned.
“Gi-iles. I’m bli-ind!” She whines and he finds himself faking surprise. “Oh really?”
“She did it!” Buffy spits out, pulls on Willow’s arm and shoves her in Giles’ general direction. The pale girl stumbles but catches herself before colliding with the older man.
Giles perks up, sensing hope. Maybe the spell can be broken and nothing is lost so far. Not his slayer, not his dreams of a glorified future for himsel
“H
“How…” he begins a question but is rudely interrupted by the bottle blonde.
“Tara was eating her out when…”
“Buffy!” He exclaims harshly, not used to the blunt phrasing out of her tiny mouth. He feels an uncomfortable tugging in his groin. Well, maybe not really uncomfortable…
“…when I came home! Into *my* home! I find them eating pussy in my mother’s bedroom! My *dead* mother’s bedroom!” Buffy screams again, she is upset, terrified by the darkness surrounding her and he understands. All too clearly he remembers the accident when Red’s ‘my will’ spell went wrong. How his ability to see faded more and more, how first text was unreadable, how objects got fuzzy and lost focus, how the impenetrable grey matter grew and got darker… He starts to polish his glasses again. It was a rather unpleasant experience.
“So you came into *their room* and found them in a … quite sexual position…”
“Quite sexual position?! Have you ever seen lesbians going at it?” Yes, Giles thinks, and his mind conjures up images from the latest porn he bought. “It’s disgusting!” Buffy murmurs eventually and Willow’s gasp is the only sound in the Magic Box’s eerie silence.

Tara, for the first time since entering, looks up, checking on her girlfriend’s reaction to the slayer’s admission. The blond witch, however, doesn’t seem surprised at all. Giles stores that fact away for later exploration.
“Buffy, I think you should try to calm down. Let me talk to Willow and I am sure I can solve the problem … with your eyesight.” Before Buffy can say another word, he grabs her wrist and drags her into the training room, makes her sit down on the old couch and tells her to wait until he comes back. Any protests are stopped by a little bit of Ripper blending in his voice. A voice that makes Buffy’s cheeks flush. Suppressing a “good girl” Giles goes back to the witches.

***

Baffled, Spike looks up. “Sire?” He whispers, not able to believe his ears…
“Yes, m’ boy. I am here as the head of the clan because you called out for me. This is also me coming for you as your sire, m’ lad.” Angel sighs and cups the back of the blonde’s head.

“But you’re… and how…” Distracted by this tender touch off the other vampire, Spike’s voice fades away. Staring into whiskey brown depths, searching for truth or …something in Angel’s eyes to keep on to, to not lose his grip on the reality of nearly one hundred lonely years. There is nothing, just endless brown with dancing golden flakes like dust in a sunray. The big hand pulls softly, not rushing, not demanding and after some half-hearted resistance Spike leans against the broad chest, finds comfort and protection in his maker. Just for a moment, even feels safe.

“My boy…” Angel murmurs into dirty blond curls, not able to believe how he could go all this time without this, without his boy. His other arm comes around, hugging his childe to him so hard that Spike sobs nst nst his neck from the pressure of the powerful embrace. Suddenly Angel remembers the gashing stake wound and lets off some. Spike whimpers, careful not to break the skin, he gnaws on the cool pale neck with blunt teeth, begging for the most healing, most tasteful blood in this dimension.

Angel makes odd rumbling noises, at first broken and short but soon growing to a full purring. Too long since he purred for anyone, even refusing this comfort to himself because the memories it brings back to the surface are too close to long gone reality in the hours of false dawn. The time they used for the history and lore lessons, sometimes for fairy tale telling. William, his boy an eager fledgling, snuggled up against him, always purring, so content with just being with him. Purring which soon changed to little delighted moans when he used his own mouth to kiss instead of to tell rules.
Breathing in his childe’s unique scent deeply, memorizing this moment forever, all too aware of the changes which too soon will happen. “Go on.” He whispers, and moments later he feels the sensation of fangs piercing his flesh, washing away a century of solitude and abandon.

Spike drinks hastily, driven by hunger and fear of not getting enough. The taste of sire’s blood, unique and pure… the only taste he can recall instantly, having done so nearly every day since he was left to fight for himself and weighed down with responsibility for Dru. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone or even himself. He knows he can go on til he feels sated. Sire’s blood is rich and for childer the best nourishment, only a third of the fill a human can provide is enough to be sated completely. His body hums happily, goosebumps are all over his body, he feels energized and his senses are hyped. The stake wound closed over, not healed totally but even a vamp needs recuperation time.

Gently Spike’s rough tongue closes the wound like he never even needed to be taught. He was always a giving person, focused on the needs of others, never his own until…

The cat like licks get tinier with every stroke and Angel shudders, knows that this will most likely be the last time he feels the oddly enough still familiar sensation. Spike’s way of saying thanks. The blond pulls back, and however tender and slowly he does it, Angel is left with a feeling of coldness, of loss, like he never had known before.

“My childe. I have to find my childe.” Spike says, voice now steady, determined and Angel nods.
“We have to get some blood first.”
“Human.” Spike says with a voice which tells you not to even try to negotiate.
“Of course, fresh…”
“Oh no, you will so not go out there hunting for the evil one!” Cordy squeaks and both vamps flinch at the interruption.
“I thought about…”
“NO! Do you hear me! No. You will not support this…”
“If you don’t shut up right now, I will feed you to him by myself.” Angel growls, face flashing into his demon visage and back. Cordy jumps and tries to retreat, catching her heel in a crack in the tiles, she slumps to the ground sobbing helplessly. Without another look the two vampires leave the crypt and the sound of a car driving away is deafening to Cordy’s ears.

***


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