Loving His Child 3

"Spike?" Angel mumbled sleepily as he woke up the following evening. Rolling over, he found that his Childe was not in bed with him, and he immediately became wide awake.

"Spike?" he asked again, standing up and walking to the bathroom. When he found that Spike was nowhere in the hotel room, he stopped and leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, uncaring that he still was completely naked.

"No," he mumbled, a deep frown settling upon his features. There was no way Spike would leave the room on a whim, deciding to just go for a stroll, grab a beer or anything like that. He knew just as well as Angel that they needed to be careful, so he wouldn't leave, not even to try to get blood, no matter how hungry he was.

Cursing under his breath, something he rarely did, Angel grabbed his pants and boxers and dressed in a hurry. Less than five minutes later, the dark-haired vampire had left the room.

Well out on the street, Angel stopped and hesitated. Where should he go? Which way? Standing perfectly still and not caring about the strange looks he got from bypassers, the dark-haired vampire closed his eyes and sniffed the air, stretching his vampiric senses as far as he could while he tried to catch a whiff of Spike's scent.

A weak smell hung in the air, and Angel immediately knew it was his Childe. Opening his eyes again, Angel followed the scent down the street. He silently prayed to whatever higher powers there might be that he would be in time to save Spike from whoever had taken him.

Angel knew it was probably Jack who was behind the kidnapping, but he was pretty sure he hadn't been followed the night before so he was careful not to jump to any conclusions.

Jack knew he was being followed. He could feel someone's eyes poking him in his back, he could feel someone lurking in the darkness, watching over him and... waiting? Jack didn't know what that someone was waiting for, but he knew he didn't really want to find out.

That was why he was hurrying home, walking down the pavement at a fast pace, hoping to meet someone he knew, hoping to see *anybody* so his hidden stalker wouldn't dare to do anything. Not much frightened Jack, and with good reason. Already wanted in Ireland, England and Spain for murder, theft, robbery and just general trouble, he had seen his share of dark things.

Hurrying down the street, the dark-haired man continued to glance nervously over his shoulders, half expecting to suddenly see a face right behind him, or when he turned his head back around, in front of him.

A small part of him actually hoped to see that face, so it all would be over and he would get to know who had been following him for the past five weeks, watching him and waiting in the darkness.

He didn't know which face he was hoping to see, but he was hoping to see one. Because living like this made him insecure and jumpy. He swore deeply that when his stalker finally showed himself, he would pay dearly.

Jack was slammed up against the side of a building with such force that spots danced in front of his eyes, and he barely got a glimpse of a sable-haired head, before those same, cool hands turned him around and a body pressed up against his.

Strong fingers curled around his dark locks, and then his head was slammed brutally against the hard bricks of the building - not hard enough to make him pass out, just to daze him.

Through the throbbing in his head and his muddled brain, the criminal registered that his attacker was pulling his pants down, and then he screamed in pain as something blunt and thick forced its way into his dry channel.

He tried to lash out with his feet, tried to hit with his hands, tried to grab the knife in his belt, but his attacker was stronger.

A low growling could be heard from behind him, and now Jack was more than frightened - he was terrified. He tried to scream, but the instant he opened his mouth, one of the cold hands that held his wrists in an iron grip, formed a fist and moved to his mouth, effectively gagging him.

Then the stranger started pumping in and out of Jack, and he screamed around the fist, biting together with everything he had as he felt the tender tissue in his anus tear and start to bleed because of the violent fucking.

The dark-haired murderer bit hard enough to draw blood and probably crack a bone, too, in his attacker's hand, but the stranger barely seemed to notice it.

Instead, the growling increased in strength and the pounding grew more frantic, hurting Jack more than he thought was possible. Suddenly, the stranger growled loudly, animalistic, and then something sharp penetrated Jack's skin over his neck.

He lost control of time, he lost control of space, and everything that existed in his world was he, his attacker, the pain in his anus and the incredible sensations that streamed through his body, starting in his neck.

When he finally registered that the stranger was no longer holding his wrists together, the raven-haired human also registered that his mouth was wide open, so his attacker's bloodied hand had been freed. Instead, the stranger had now wrapped both arms around Jack's waist, holding him up only with his still stiff cock and the weak grip on Jack's hips.

His head falling back as the sensations became too much to bear, Jack couldn't help but lift a hand and cradle the head of the stranger, which was pressed to the side of his neck.

His entire body tingled - even his cock spasmed to life - his skin curled over his knuckles, his head swam and his toes itched in a very pleasant way.

Jack knew what was happening, but his brain wouldn't register it. He knew he was being drained - killed - by a vampire, but at the same time there was just something about the feeling of being sucked dry!

His blood didn't just leave his body, it *flowed* from his body in a steady, erotic stream, tingling every nerve it passed on the way, before it finally disappeared through the small holes in his neck and into the stranger's mouth.

When his vision started to disappear and the darkness finally threatened to overwhelm Jack, the stranger's lips left his neck, and only a few seconds later, a wet wrist was pressed to the dark-haired human's mouth.

Not because he wanted to - the tiny part of his brain that was still working, was screaming 'NO!' with all its might, but somehow, it just felt *right* to drink. So Jack drank the blood offered to him, and the second he swallowed the first mouthful, the stranger gave one final thrust, and Jack felt his climax. Cool liquid soothed his torn passage, but he didn't care anymore.

Spike's scream stopped and was replaced with a groan as he hit the metal door for the eleventh time. His shoulders were aching, his head was hammering, his arms were numb - and the door hadn't moved one bit.

Moving back to the other side of the room, Spike ran towards the metal door and threw himself at it for the twelfth time. "AAAAAGH!"

Sighing and rubbing his sore shoulder, Spike was about to throw himself at the door once again, when it suddenly opened and Jack appeared.

"There's no use making all that noise and struggle like that, Spike. For the first, this door won't break, no matter how strong a vampire you are. Second, if you do get out, there are over ten guards here who will rip you apart immediately. And third, try not to hurt yourself too badly - that's my job."

Red coated Spike's vision, and blinded with rage, the peroxide-blonde stormed towards his Childe. Before he could reach the younger vampire, Jack just shook his head and walked quietly out the door again, closing it only a second before Spike reached it.

The blonde vampire just stopped, before he sat down. Then he remained sitting motionless on the floor for several minutes, before he slammed both hands down in the concrete floor, hard enough to break a few fingers. Growling loudly, he thought to himself that simply killing Jack in 1967 hadn't been enough - he should have tortured him a bit first, too.

It hadn't been a planned fight, and it hadn't been something Spike had wanted. To kill his own Childe didn't pain him, because he never loved Jack like Angelus had loved - and still loved - William. But it hurt him in another way, because it was the final proof that he failed his task.

He had left his Childe, leaving the young vampire by himself, thereby driving him insane, which led to their meeting in 1967, which again led to Jack's final death.

Spike had been walking down the street with Drusilla when he'd heard a scream behind him, and as he turned, Jack had thrown himself at him. His eyes had been wild and his mouth wide open, as he had bared his fangs and snapped after Spike, uncaring of the many humans around, who watched with a mix of fright and terrified amazement.

So Spike had fought. He'd fought with everything he had, but for a while it looked really ugly for him. Jack was an excellent fighter, a very strong vampire, and he had attacked Spike in a fit of rage and hatred, which made him even stronger.

But just when he was about to crush Spike's head with a heavy trash can he'd found, the blonde had managed to shove a very short and very little splinter into his Childe's unbeating heart, and Jack had disappeared with only a weak 'poof' as his body turned to ashes.

Sighing miserably to himself, Spike's blue eyes darkened as memories of his and Jack's time together assaulted him. They had shared everything, Spike had given him everything; advice, support, punishment, a good position in the vampire clan, access to his bed...

Well, it wasn't just his fault, he decided, since Jack was and still is a complete looney!

His thoughts were interrupted as the door opened again and Jack entered with some minions. "String him up," Jack demanded, smiling evilly as the minions grabbed Spike, despite the blonde's struggling. Snarling and biting and snapping his jaws after the minions, trying to get free from their iron grip, Spike was lifted and his head was being held still by two strong hands.

Then a chain was slipped neatly over his head, the heavy links forming a noose. Struggling wildly, Spike tried to kick the vampire who was tightening the chain around his neck, but it was useless.

His hands were slipped into a set of manacles and then they were pulled straight out, before his legs received the same treatment. All the chains were secured in the ceiling and on the walls with large bolts and hoops, and the blonde immediately knew he wasn't strong enough to get free.

"Enough," Jack finally said, just when Spike suspected he might break something if the chains were tied any tighter. "Let him go."

Spike opened his mouth to scream 'No!' but the chain around his neck effectively stopped all speaking. In fact, it hurt just to try.

The minions let go of Spike, and for a small, horrifying second, the blonde thought his neck had snapped. But it hadn't. He was strung up in the middle of his little cell, dangling between heaven and earth, the noose the only thing holding him up. The chains around his hands and feet were pulled straight out, thereby spreading him eagle, a few inches off the ground.

The chain around his neck hurt like hell, and every little movement Spike made, sent beams of pain down his spine, so he tried to stay still, but it was hard. He knew he couldn't choke because he had no need to breathe, but that didn't mean he was immune against pain.

The minions left the cell, and Jack took a few steps closer to Spike, a humorous smile playing across his lips. "You know, Spike, I don't think I ever really thought about it, but you are kinda handsome when you're pissed off."

Spike tried to say 'Fuck you!' but all that came out was some small gurgling noises. Jack threw his head back and laughed, before pacing back and forth a few steps.

"Now, you... You have done so much for me, and I was really wondering how I could make everything up to you. At first I was considering staking Drusilla, but nah... she'd probably see it coming in one of her visions and warn you."

Jack continued to talk as three minions came in with a small box of bricks on wheels. It was filled with charcoal, and a fire was just going out. They also carried with them long pokers and some wooden stakes.

Closing his eyes, Spike tuned out Jack's many ways of getting back at him, and instead cursed silently. It had a certain dramatic irony, he had to admit, that less than a year earlier he had tortured Angel using hot pokers, and now someone would use the same method on him.

Opening his eyes, Spike didn't even attempt to reply, knowing that it wouldn't do any good and that he would only get new jolts of pain shot through his body from his throat.

Angel moved quickly through the streets, each little breath of air bringing him a tiny bit of Spike's scent, pointing him in the right direction. As the scent got stronger, Angel's hope grew.

He didn't know Jack, but the dark-haired vampire gave both Angel's demon and Spike the creeps, and that was enough to convince Angel he was more than dangerous.

Following the trail to several abandoned warehouses, the souled vampire moved quickly, but carefully, staying in the shadows and staying alert for an attack.

Angel just knew that this had to be the place Jack kept Spike, but he strongly doubted there wouldn't be any guards around.

Suddenly, Angel could feel a presence, and he melted further into the shadows. Scanning the area around him, he soon spotted two vampires standing by a large door into one of the warehouses. A small trickle of panic seeped into his veins, and Angel cursed it. He couldn't afford to panic now.

Taking in his surroundings once more, making sure to memorize as much of the warehouse itself as possible, the souled vampire shot one last, worried glance towards the old building, before he turned and headed back towards the hotel room at full speed.

Spike's eyes fluttered open when the hand slapped his face, causing him to stir in his chains and sending fresh jolts of pain through his naked and bloody body. Holding back a choked groan, the peroxide-blonde met Jack's eyes, and silently pleaded him to either let him go or just kill him now.

Jack had cut the clothes off Spike's lean form, watching gleefully as the knife he'd used had slipped every now and then and made crimson lines in Spike's skin. The younger vampire had thrown the now shredded clothes aside, then turned to the pokers his minions had brought in.

Five pokers were now standing out of Spike's body, two through his kneecaps, one through his stomach, one through his heart and one through his arm. When the blonde's insane Childe had been tired with the pokers, he'd brought in a box full of railroad spikes, asking Spike if he was proud that the younger vampire actually had paid attention in class.

Railroad spikes were driven forcefully through Spike's hands and feet in a horrific mockery of a crucifixion, and two more of the heavy metal rods were forced through his shoulder blades.

Sweat trickling down his forehead, Spike's bloody hand twitched on its own, and Jack smiled evilly. "What's the matter, *Sire*?" he asked, spitting out the word as if it left bad taste in his mouth. "You're starting to look a little pale."

Picking up a large hunting knife, Jack sighed deeply, playing with the sharp steel edge. "Don't grow weak on me now, *Daddy.* I'm far from done with you."

As Jack turned and walked to the still open door of the little cell, the peroxide-blonde allowed his eyes to slip shut again for just a few moments.

Dealing with the pain was hard enough, but it was also a great shame to him that his Childe had left the door open so all the minions scattered around wherever they were could hear his choked gurgles of pain. The only thing he was grateful for, was the chain that prevented him from screaming out loud.

"Everybody in here!" Jack bellowed, his sharp voice echoing in the warehouse. "Now!"

Spike opened his eyes again as the dark-haired man turned back to him, knife swinging loosely in his hand. An evil smirk appeared on his face, and he waggled his eyebrows. The expression in his eyes didn't bode well for the blonde.

Jack's minions scattered into the small cell, lining up along all the walls, all their eyes focused on the two men in the middle - one of them chained and bleeding, the other cocky and raising his hands in a triumphant way as his minions began to cheer.

When the cheers settled, Jack turned to Spike, a deadly look in his eyes. "Remember how you turned me, Sire? How you grabbed me off the street and raped me?"

"Yes!" Jack snapped, as if he'd read Spike's mind. Stepping over the chain holding the blonde's feet, Jack walked around Spike and gripped his hips tightly, so the blonde inhaled sharply in pain.

Moving a hand to the end of the poker standing out from Spike's back, Jack's grin became just a little bit bigger, before he pushed it slowly out, reveling in the strangled grunts Spike gave. The blonde's tear-streaked cheeks became wet as new, salty tears escaped his eyes at the pain, but it only caused Jack to chuckle.

Pressing the knife to the small of Spike's back with his right hand, the dark-haired vampire started to undo his pants with his left. Making a deep cut with the knife, Jack let the blood run down his Sire's ass cheeks and over the rosebud hidden between them.

"Keep your eyes open at all times, *Daddy*. If you close them, you pay the consequences."

Then a scream forced its way up his throat as Jack entered him and immediately started to thrust rapidly and harshly. The younger vampire couldn't penetrate Spike very deeply because of their positions, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt like hell. And it was only pure luck that the peroxide-blonde kept himself from closing his eyes in pain.

Instead, he tried to ignore the many minions standing in the room, laughing and cheering again.

His gaze focusing on somewhere in space, the blonde wished he was beyond pain - he wished he had been hurt so much or so badly that he couldn't feel anything anymore.

Every thrust Jack gave set his ass on fire as his tender channel was torn. Blood coated Jack's cock, but still it didn't seem to make it any easier - instead, it seemed to only hurt Spike further.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jack held up a hand and stilled his thrusts, but didn't pull out of Spike. "Witness," he told his minions, his voice breathless, an insane hitch to it. "The ultimate humiliation."

Tears streamed from Spike's eyes both in physical and mental pain, and he longed for Angel. Praying to The Powers That Be and to all the higher powers in the world, Spike only wanted one thing at that moment - to be in his Sire's strong arms.

Finally coming into Spike's ass, Jack pulled both his fangs and his cock out of his Sire's body, before he fastened his pants nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. Blood was running down Spike's thighs in thick rivers, mixing with the blood from his knees and feet, before it dripped down onto the floor.

A small trickle of semen joined the red fluid, making an odd streak in the deep color.

Finally allowing his eyes to slip closed, Spike's head lolled as much forward as the chain allowed him to, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

As the cheers from his minions faded off into silence, Jack tilted his head and looked at the unconscious peroxide-blonde, an almost curious look on his face. Slowly, he walked around the bloodied body, before he paused right in front of it, looking at Spike's face. Shaking his head, he turned to his minions, a cruel smile spreading across his lips.

Angel ran quickly through the streets, the box he was carrying not doing anything to slow his steps, like it would have done to a human. The dark-haired vampire hoped he would be in time, and he hoped the spell would work properly, or both he and Spike would die.

Shaking his head and briefly closing his eyes, Angel forced the thought away, refusing to even contemplate that fact.

Slowing down as he reached the abandoned warehouses, the dark-haired vampire melted into the shadows, not running anymore, but still moving quickly as he snuck into the building next to the one Spike was being held in.

He immediately found an area big enough for the spell, and put down the box, quickly starting to take out stones and chalk, drawing a large triangle on the floor and placing stones in the corners. His plan was to kill all of Jack's minions and chase Jack away, but it wasn't very likely. Angel knew he'd be rushed when he escaped with Spike, so everything needed to be ready when they came here.

As he prepared the rest of the spell, Angel prayed to The Powers That Be that everything would work out fine.

Spike woke up to a cock pistoning in and out of his channel at a fast pace, pain immediately wrecking his entire body.

His eyes finally coming into focus, he saw Jack standing in front of him. Spike's Childe had obviously taken a break to clean himself up, but now he was watching with evil glee as all his minions raped Spike in turn.

The raven-haired vampire didn't allow them to orgasm - he just had them lined up behind the pale body and let them pump into Spike for a minute or so, before the next one took their place.

"Ah, you're awake," Jack chirped, a sophisticated smile settling on his features. "Just in time, there's only a couple of minions left."

Spike's eyes rolled back in his head in pain as the minion fucking him pulled out, and another immediately forced his way in. His body shuddered, but he didn't manage to groan.

"You know, for a while, I was actually considering keeping you," Jack said, pacing calmly back and forth in front of Spike. "You know. Keep you as a pet. A fuck-toy for my pleasure only. Wouldn't that be a humiliation? The entire world would know that William the Bloody was being dominated by his Childe!"

He paused for a moment, watching the horror in Spike's eyes at the inhuman idea. "But then I figured that it would be much more fun to just kill you now, after all."

As the last minion finished fucking Spike and quickly left the cell, Jack brought out the hunting knife again. The blade had been cautiously cleaned of all traces of blood, and the younger vampire walked closer to his Sire.

"This is the fun part," he told the older vampire, with barely held excitement in his voice. "Cuttin' off and cuttin' up. Where should I start? Your nose? Your fingers?" He paused and brought the knife down to Spike's flaccid cock. "Your dick?"

The sound of a door being forced open somewhere in the building, and then the sound of several vampires getting dusted, only made Jack arch a brow. "Looks like we have to speed things up a little," he told Spike, then stepped even closer to the blonde, carefully avoiding the pokers standing out of him.

Angel fought back tears as he staked vampires east and west. Spike's scent was on them all, and the smell of Spike's blood penetrated the air inside the building, a hundred times stronger than outside.

The dark-haired vampire lost himself in the fight, blinded by worry and sorrow and anger, and he barely registered it when he ran out of makeshift stakes and started ripping the minions' heads off with his bare hands.

He wanted desperately to find Jack, to put him out of the game, so he could rescue Spike and still avoid the history changing. He also wanted to give Jack a damn good beating while he was at it.

Suddenly there were no more vampire, and Angel stopped, registering that everybody was gone. He had dusted close to all of the minions, and the few that had survived his attack were fleeing in all directions, only wanting to get out from the warehouse.

Angel watched as the last minions disappeared around a corner, before he took off running in the opposite direction, following the smell of Spike's blood. He quickly found the small cell, but when he entered it he froze.

Quivering and nauseous, Angel slowly turned back around to face the horrible sight before him.

The pokers and the spikes through Spike's stomach, heart, kneecaps, hands and feet were not the worst.

The blood and the obvious signs of rape wasn't what caused Angel's blood to leave his body and his breath to leave his lungs.

It wasn't the chains holding his Childe, that made the bile rise in the back of Angel's throat again.

A sob escaping the dark-haired vampire, he let his eyes roam over Spike's mutilated body. A railroad spike was sticking out of the blonde's forehead, fresh blood oozing from the wound. The incredible, blue eyes were no more, cut neatly out of their sockets and laying on the floor in a large puddle of blood.

Sinking to his knees, his entire body starting to shiver violently, Angel had to face the fact that there was no hope for his Childe this time. There was nothing he could do to save Spike. No spell, no miracle, no powers on earth could.

He had read about this before, Angel's mind told him, although his numb body didn't seem to absorb the information completely. The Dead Man's Death. A deep coma vampires could fall into, which they never awoke from. It was rare, and the few cases registered had occurred after heavy torture, hypnosis or certain forms for brainwashing, Angel remembered.

The souled vampire's body kept shivering, and his teeth clattered in his mouth. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Angel let out a long wail for the Childe he'd lost, for the love he'd lost, and for every memory that died with the peroxide blonde.

He didn't know exactly how long he sat there, but finally he got to his feet, his body still shivering and trembling so much his vision was shaking.

After building up enough courage and making sure he wouldn't throw up again, Angel carefully took a few steps forward, quickly finding the locks to the manacles and chains that held the blonde.

Breaking the locks easily, the dark-haired vampire carefully lowered his Childe onto his side, then eased the pokers and the railroad spikes out of him. The horrible sight won over the vampire's attempts to calm himself down, and he had to take a break to throw up again.

Then Angel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, took several deep and slow breaths, before he turned back around and carefully picked up Spike's still form.

As he left the warehouse, he registered that Jack was nowhere to be seen, and he knew history wouldn't be changed a bit.

Jack would see Spike on the street in 1967, go into a fit or rage because he would think the blonde had survived his torture, and Spike would kill him.

Tears continued to run down Angel's face, making streaks in the blood there, as the souled vampire carried his Childe over to the warehouse where he had set up the spell, and then sat down in the circle, cradling the blonde's body in his arms. Hugging Spike tight, Angel didn't care that he was getting blood everywhere, and finally let himself cry.

His Childe was gone. Angel didn't dare to even try to imagine unlife without the peroxide-blonde's sardonic grins, or the deep, accented voice calling him a bloody poof.

"No," he gasped out, rocking back and forth, his broken heart seemingly bleeding everywhere and coating the world in a sorrowful, deep red that threatened to swallow him whole and never let him go.

Angel's harsh sobs echoed in the warehouse, and his tears dripped from his eyes and down into the deep hole in Spike's forehead after the railroad spike. His thoughts and tears and sobs reaching out to all the Gods and Goddesses in the world, Angel prayed that his Childe would wake up and come back to him and love him.