Loving His Child 4

Cordelia Chase sighed deeply and glanced at her watch, both worried and extremely bored. The dark-haired vampire had been gone for a long while, now, and Wesley was currently out, searching for him.

The brunette knew the former Watcher wouldn't be back for several hours, even though he'd already been gone most of the day. She, on her part, had done everything she could do in their search for Angel, and had now nothing to do, except waiting for Wesley's return.

Frowning, Cordelia raised her head from the magazine when she suddenly heard the elevator to Angel's apartment move. Then, realization hit her. "Angel!" she exclaimed, on her feet in a split second.

The brunette's words faltered and her eyes widened when she saw her boss and best friend step out of the elevator, still cradling the mutilated body in his arms.

"Oh God, is that...?" Cordelia started to say, but then shut her mouth as she caught the expression on Angel's face and the tear tracks in the blood there. The former Cheerleader might be a bitch at times, but she knew when she *definitely* should shut up.

"I'll drive," Cordelia simply said, not displaying the nausea she really felt over seeing a body as messed up as Spike's. Then she turned and went to get the car, pausing only for a split second to scribble a quick note to Wesley, letting him know that he should drive up to Sunnydale when he got back.

Waiting for her to return, Angel sat down on the floor, gently cupping Spike's cheek and looking down in the blonde's ruined face. The spell had gone off without a hitch, and he had soon found himself in the same sewer where he had fought the sorcerers.

A dead calm had settled over Angel as he had made his way through the sewers and back to his apartment.

He didn't know what date it was, or how long the two vampires had been gone, but he didn't really care. All that mattered was Spike. Getting him to Sunnydale and giving him the funeral he deserved.

The knowledge that the peroxide-blonde wasn't really dead, but never would wake up, either, was eating at him, killing him from inside and starting with his heart. Angel stared down at his Childe's bloodied face, his face betraying no emotion. Yet, it was the lack of emotion on his face that *really* spoke of what loss he was suffering.

His Childe was gone forever, and Angel never got to say goodbye. Never got to speak with him one last time.

Then Cordelia came back into the office with a blanket, and Angel knew it was daytime. "Here," she said quietly, holding the blanket out to him. "It should be dark when we reach Sunnydale, so it's no problem about the sun."

Carefully adjusting Spike in his arms, Angel took the blanket and Cordelia helped him wrap it around them, before they hurried out of the building and into the car waiting right outside. Its blacked-out windows protected the two vampires from the sun, and once they were safely in the backseat, Angel removed the blanket from over his head and instead wrapped it carefully around his Childe's nude body.

The entire trip to Sunnydale, Angel's gaze was locked on the peroxide-blonde's damaged face. The empty eye sockets were glaring up at him, as did the wound after the railroad spike, and in the dark depths tinged with blood red and innards, Angel saw Jack's face smiling mockingly at him.

The souled vampire was *really* glad the raven-haired vampire wasn't alive today, or he would definitely have hunted him down like a dog and killed him *very* slowly.

"You didn't deserve to die the way you did," he muttered to the Jack laughing in his mind. "You were too lucky."

He hadn't even realized he was crying again, before he heard Cordelia's concerned voice from the front seat.

The brunette turned briefly again to glance at him, since he didn't show up in the rear mirror. Angel was not okay. Angel was as far from okay as he could be. "No," he muttered hoarsely, not bothering to try to lie about it.

"You were gone for a long time," Cordelia said. "Almost five days. Me and Wesley... We've been really worried."

Hearing the question laying between the lines, Angel shook his head a bit. "We were sent to 1924. Only a couple of days to us, but..."

Cordelia winced as Angel spoke more, and she really got a grasp of how tired and filled with pain his voice was. She didn't know what had happened, and why Angel was grieving over Spike, but she did know that the younger vampire was *very* gross-looking and that whoever had cut him up, had done a good job of it. And she knew now wasn't the time to ask.

Falling silent again, Cordelia focused on the road ahead, but her mind was a whirl of confusion.

When they arrived in Sunnydale, the sun had crept down in the horizon, and it was dark. After Angel's brief orders, the former May Queen drove straight to Giles' apartment, and soon they were both standing on the ex-Watcher's doorstep, Spike's body wrapped up in the blanket.

When Giles opened the door, a surprised smile settled on his face, but it quickly faded as he took in the expressions on Cordelia's and Angel's faces, and the blood stains on Angel's features.

"Angel," he simply said, shock and worry reflected in his voice, despite the calm tone it was holding. Angel only stared back at him, his gaze blank and his eyes empty.

Stepping aside, Giles allowed them both in, and at the same time revealed that the whole gang was there; Buffy, Riley, Xander, Anya, Willow and a blonde girl neither Angel or Cordelia knew.

Buffy rose up, disturbed when she saw the blood on his face and the tear tracks on his cheeks. "My God, what happened?" Then her gaze fell on the blanket, which was soaked with blood in several places. "And what is that?"

When Cordelia looked down, her expression somber as grief on behalf of her boss flooded her. She desperately wanted to say something, to help in some way, to explain the situation for everybody, to do *something.* But she knew it wasn't her place to do so.

As Angel continued to stare blankly into space, Buffy's expression became even more worried. "Angel?"

Riley rose to his feet as well, and Willow exchanged a look with the blonde Cordelia and Angel didn't know.

Slowly kneeling on the floor, Angel slowly unwrapped the blanket to reveal Spike's body, the hollow eye sockets glaring up at the Scooby Gang.

A hand flew to Buffy's mouth as her eyes widened in horror, and Willow headed straight for the bathroom. Xander turned away from the horrible sight, and Anya hid her face in his shoulder, while an expression of utter and complete shock settled on Giles' face.

As a demon, Anya had seen and caused a lot of horrible things, but nothing like this. This was too much for even her.

"Oh God..." Xander mumbled, nausea rolling through him. Slowly, he turned back to the body on the floor, letting his gaze drift over the many damages, the hole in the blonde's skull, the many signs of torture and the part where his genitals should have been.

An eerie silence settled over the room, which lasted until Giles quietly stepped forward and reached for the edges of the blanket. Pausing a little, not sure if Angel allowed him to, the Englishman glanced at the souled vampire once, before he wrapped the blanket around the body again, hiding it from everybody's view.

He had barely covered Spike's face when Willow came back from the bathroom and took the blonde girl's hand, squeezing it. There were tear marks on her cheeks.

Angel nodded dully, and the former Watcher crouched down next to the vampire. Looking at Angel's face, Giles sadly watched as Angel's grieving gaze continued to stare out in space. "What happened?" he asked, not knowing if he had the right to ask that question now, but taking the chance anyway.

Angel swallowed, not ready to tell the entire story. Not ready to reveal Spike's secrets and tell everybody about how a Sire/Childe relationship worked.

"There... We were sent to the past together," he finally said, deciding to leave out any major details. "1924. And... h-he... There were troubles. And Spike was tortured, and... I couldn't save him."

Fresh tears came to his eyes, and he glanced down at the blanket-covered body laying in front of him. "He was my Childe," he finished in a half-choked, hoarse near-whisper.

Walking to Riley, Buffy hugged him tightly and blinked away her tears. "Just because I didn't like him didn't mean..." she trailed off and shook her head slowly. "He didn't deserve that."

Angel shook his head slowly and looked down, dimly noticing that he was still shivering and shaking violently. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere else with Spike, and he wanted to be happy.

Looking up again, he met Buffy's eyes, and the blonde Slayer immediately saw a request in his sorrowful gaze. "I need a favor," he said, swallowing heavily as tears surfaced again and escaped the corners of his eyes.

Neither of the two seemed to notice the shocked expressions on everybody's face. Even Giles looked shocked that Angel had made that decision, but sadly, he had to admit that he understood why. Of the a little over 300 cases of The Dead Man's Death registered, only one had ever woken up from the deep coma again.

Buffy fell silent as her ex-lover stared into her eyes, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

"Please," he repeated, now in a whisper. "I can't, I can't... I can't do it. It's a mercy kill, Buffy. He can't continue like this. He can't be saved. The only humane thing to, would be to..."

His sentence ending in a choked sob, Angel closed his eyes again and bowed his head.

Stepping out of Riley's embrace, Buffy walked to the vampire and placed a hand on his shoulder, holding it there as he began to sob loudly. Harsh sniffles filled the otherwise quiet room, his heart being torn to shreds, and nobody moved as the humans watched the vampire cry.

And at the exact same time as new tears started to fall from the souled vampire's eyes, the heavens opened their dams and let rivers of water flow down over the little town called Sunnydale.

"Are you sure about this?" Buffy asked once again, glancing at the peroxide-blonde's body laying next to her and Angel.

Angel followed her gaze and swallowed heavily once, before he took a deep, unneeded breath. "Yes," he replied. "I'm sure."

They had cleaned Spike's body for all traces of blood, and most of the smaller wounds didn't look so bad anymore. Angel didn't get his hopes up, though.

He couldn't stand to be close to Spike's body after a while, so he'd let the others deal with the preparations for the 'funeral' while he had read up on The Dead Man's Death, what little hope there was inside of him refusing to let go completely.

What he had learned had not made his hope grow or his mood lighten. Spike's body could heal, but the blonde would never wake up again.

So the small groups of humans had at least done everything they could to make the peroxide-blonde vampire look more or less like himself. The empty eye sockets were hidden by eyelids closed with great care, and the holes passing straight through the pale - almost white from the blood loss, Buffy had noted - body were cleaned and made to look as small as possible.

Now, Spike was laying on a small stone altar Willow and Tara had made, on a beautiful grass hill overlooking Sunnydale.

A fresh night breeze was whirling around the small group of people there, and everybody's eyes were fixed on the two vampires. One who would never wake up again who would soon find the rest he deserved, and one who would continue to live on and greet a new night for several more years to come - without his love..

Taking Angel's hand and giving it a squeeze, Buffy forced out a sad smile. "I don't know what happened on your little visit to the past," the blonde told Angel quietly. "But I know you loved him. And I really am sorry, Angel."

Angel's eyes met Buffy, and the dark-haired vampire nodded, barely visible. An understanding passed between them, and they both knew that they now had let each other go completely, finally allowing themselves to love someone else.

Still, he offered the best smile he could to the petite blonde next to him. The smile looked more like a sad grimace, but at least he was trying, the Slayer told herself, fighting back the urge to cry on Angel's behalf. She knew she had to be strong through this moment, for Angel's sake. Although how he managed to even stand up straight was beyond Buffy.

And she silently thanked The Powers That Be, for this vampire - this demon - who had more courage and more humanity in him than a thousand humans.

"Thanks," Angel whispered, before he pulled away from Buffy's touch and turned to his Childe's body again.

The blonde Slayer gave him one last look, before she turned to the pale body as well and raised her stake.

Bringing it down, she hit the mark immediately, years of Slaying enabling her to find the heart, despite the hole passing through it making it hard for her to hit.

Then she stepped back, joining the rest of the Scooby Gang who were standing a few feet behind Angel.

Spike's body stayed the same for a few seconds, before it faded to gray and then finally exploded into a cloud of ashes.

The tiny, gray particles were picked up by the wind and brought out over Sunnydale, some settling on the grass in front of Angel's feet, while others were brought past the City Hall, past the ruins of Sunnydale High and past The Bronze, to settle in a place Angel didn't know.

As the last remaining ashes disappeared from sight, a tear rolled down Angel's cheek, and he whispered, his words inaudible to the humans standing behind him, "Goodbye, William. I love you."

Angel tried, he really tried. He went back to LA with Cordelia and Wesley, and he tried to continue living his life like he was supposed to live it.

He fought evil, he drank the terrible coffee Cordelia made, he made small talk with Wesley in between all the seriousness that came with their cases - he even fought with Kate a couple of times.

But the weeks seemed to fly passed him, and Angel couldn't help but wonder where the time went?

There used to be a point in his unlife where he didn't have to worry about time. No matter what, Angel knew that he would make it, he knew he'd manage to rescue the people he was supposed to rescue, he knew that he had enough time to do the less important things... He simply knew that he had enough time.

The vampire had expected the days and nights to crawl forwards, life without Spike either standing still or not moving at all. Instead, it was doing exactly the opposite, moving too fast and making him feel that he was the only one who didn't manage to keep up with life, with everything.

Various members of the Scooby Gang called frequently, and Cordelia recognized the same fright in their voice every time she picked up the phone and they asked about Angel. Everybody feared the souled vampire would either retreat fully into himself or simply stop to care now that his Childe was gone.

He had never told anybody exactly what went on in the past, except for Buffy, and she had cried with him and hugged him and been there for him. But now, life moved on for her.

Sure enough, the world around him rushed by, and the days rapidly turned into weeks, which rapidly was becoming months. But Angel's own life, though, was standing completely still, leaving him in a mix of confusion, misery and longing for Spike.

During the early evenings or late nights, Angel would sit up in the offices, lights off, and look out the window, his teary eyes never leaving the bright lights of LA as he remembered the peroxide-blonde's cocky grin, or the feel of his Childe's cock pulsing within him the last time they had...

Angel didn't even know what to call it? He remembered thinking they had 'made love' right after they'd finished, but somehow it didn't seem completely right.

'Fucked' certainly wasn't the term, and neither was 'screwed' or 'shagged' or any of those other words the souled vampire knew Spike would favor.

And so finally, he settled on 'made love' and then cried harder, being reminded that there actually had been strong emotions between them. He knew he shouldn't, but he still loved Spike, missed him, and cried for him.

Eventually, the souled vampire stopped taking phone calls, he stopped drinking Cordelia's terrible coffee and he stopped making small-talk to Wesley.

He just got up in the evening, walked up to the office to see if Cordelia had received any new visions, then either went out and fought the baddies or went back down into his apartment, announcing that he didn't want to be disturbed. And no matter what Cordelia and Wesley did, they couldn't convince him to stay with them and just talk.

The Scooby Gang's fears were on the verge of coming true, and nobody seemed to be able to do anything about it.

First Cordelia and Wesley, then Buffy, Giles, Willow and finally Xander, Riley and Anya, each one of them coming down to LA to talk to their friend. But nobody was able to haul Angel up from the dark pit of misery he'd fallen into. He wouldn't break down and cry anymore, not in front of them, but after they had left, the vampire would retreat down into his apartment and cry for his Childe and his friends and himself.

In the presence of other people, Angel would remain quiet and calm, his face not betraying any emotions, his dark eyes not showing any sign of tears.

It continued for months; Angel being stoic guy and his friends trying everything to bring forth a reaction of any kind from him.

They tried to make him angry, happy, sad, and everything in between, but nothing changed. Then one night, Buffy told him that he needed to get back to life, and that his friends needed him to get back to life. He had replied that he wasn't alive, and never would be again.

"I brought you not a gift of physical state or shallow enjoyment. I brought for you my heart and my soul," he told them honestly.

"I can feel your sorrow," the male said and turned away, starting to leave. "We have no interest in healing your emotional wounds simply for your own benefit."

The female held up her hand and he stopped. "That is true," she said, and the male turned as her gaze seemed to pierce Angel. "But that is not why he is here, is it?"

She walked closer, her green and blue skin shimmering in the sacred light. "You are here because you are responsible and pure to the very end. And you are here to make sure the battle continues."

Angel nodded, and the male sighed and walked back to them. "Then speak," he said, the tone of his voice making it very clear that he was not eager to listen to stupid ideas without meaning.

The male raised an eyebrow again, glancing at his female companion. "You are expecting us to sacrifice you and your soul for a demon? For the man you call Childe?"

"No," the female said. "That's not what his soul is asking. His heart, maybe, but not his soul. Listen again."

"You can call someone else," the vampire said. "I know it lies within your power to find someone else who can battle evil."

"What about the sacred scroll and everything written there?" the male asked, still skeptical, but clearly intrigued. "You still don't know all its tales, prophecies and mysteries about you. And yet, you would give up everything just so you can leave this world and your heart can find peace in the arms of the creature you love?"

"But not without making sure somebody takes his place," the female said, reading Angel's mind like an open book. "He's responsible to the very end, like I said."

"It's an intriguing idea," the male said, "but not in everybody's benefit. What about your mortal friends?"

"I beg you," the dark-haired vampire pleaded, instead of answering the Oracle's question, his voice coming close to desperate. "Since I learned that I *could* fight evil, I have done nothing else! I have never asked you for *anything* out of my own greed or selfishness, but only for the good of others! Please, let me have this one thing for myself!"

"You are tired of life without actually living," the female said. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes," Angel confirmed. "And I cannot go on into eternity without being able to or allowed to love somebody fully!" Tears came to the vampire's eyes again and he stubbornly blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. He had cried enough. "Please, I know you have the power! Just find someone to take my place!"

"And what about your friends?" the female Oracle asked. "What about their grief and sorrow?"

"In all their lifetime, they will not see as much death and sorrow as I have," Angel told the Oracles quietly, allowing himself to not give a damn about his friends, for once in his life. "And I know that if it's how fate has meant it to be, they will be safe from harm even though I will be gone."

The Oracles were silent for a long while, both looking calmly at the vampire as they communicated silently and searched Angel's soul. Then the female turned to the male.

"Leave us," she ordered quietly, and he obeyed - much to Angel's surprise - without any objections.

Once he was gone, the female Oracle turned back to the souled vampire and paced a few steps. "You come before us, bringing no gift, but still you tell us that you have a death wish and ask us to complete it? And then you make demands for your passing, so you can die in peace and the world can go on without you?"

The Oracle stopped. "Why?" she asked, confusion in her voice. "What is it that have made you love this lower being, this demon, so much that you are willing to sacrifice your entire existence and higher purpose in life?"

"I don't know," the dark-haired vampire confessed, tears welling up in his eyes again. "I love him. God, I know it's bizarre... I don't even know if he loved me back... But..." He sniffled once as two tears escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, despite his attempts to blink them away.

"I miss him," he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper for an instant. "I miss his laugh, and I miss arguing with him, and I miss his entire being. I know it sounds pathetic, but I *do* miss arguing with him. And I just want him to come back into my life and be a huge pain in the ass!"

Starting to sob a little, Angel gestured helplessly as the Oracle watched him calmly. "He was my Childe, and, oh, God, I just want him back in my life, but... but asking *you* to bring back a demon...!"

He trailed off and shook his head, his sobs quieting. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed over his little emotional breakdown. He wasn't sure if he had to apologize to a higher creature like the Oracle, but he did it anyway, just in case.

When he finally was completely quiet, the Oracle sighed. "Well, lower being, rest your mind with the knowledge that your demon lover loved you with all his might."

His head snapping up, new tears went to Angel's eyes and his dead heart was wrenched around in his chest. The female, however, paid no attention to his reaction and instead met his eyes.

She stepped up to Angel and looked into his eyes, sincerity in her gaze. "Then it will be as you wish. You shall be relieved from your destiny and the history shall change. Someone will take your place, and the battle shall continue. Your friends will recover from the loss, be shielded from harm, and live their lives as it is written for each of them."

Sean turned away from his partner Tim, and let his gaze drift over the hill. "Absolutely," he said. "Although I have to admit it's a shame to turn this beautiful area into a construction site."

"Ah, don't think about that," Tim said cheerfully, running a hand through his long, golden hair before he pulled out a cell phone. "Think about all the money we'll make when the new apartment complex is done. This is perfect. People will *want* to live here, with this view."

Tim was just about to dial his boss and tell him they had found the perfect spot, when Sean stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, what's that?"

Sean pointed, and the long-haired man followed his finger to something in the grass, on the very top of the hill. The two men walked over to see a flat stone in the ground, mother nature doing her best to hide the inscription on it.

Immediately kneeling, Sean started to brush away grass and dirt, to finally reveal the stone's inscription.

"The Demon and the Angel - they found peace in eternity. ~August 2000," Sean read out loud.

Tim just shrugged and crouched next to Sean. "Well, this will just have to go. We'll just do the construction workers a favor and remove it right away."

The blonde was just about to attempt to pry the stone from the ground, when Sean stopped him. "No, don't," he said. When Tim shot him a curious glance, Sean just shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he said. "It just doesn't feel right."

"Hey, if we don't remove it, the construction workers will," Tim told his partner. "And besides, it's dated August *2000!* That's nearly a century ago!"

The long-haired man fell silent for several moments, before he shrugged. "So whatcha wanna tell the boss?"

The other shrugged a little. "I guess we'll just have to find someplace else. We could say that this isn't the right place." Then he added, "Besides, it's not like there aren't more hills surrounding Sunnydale."

Tim fell silent again, before he finally nodded and they got to their feet. "Alright," he sighed. "But then you owe me, man! Mr. Barret had paid us a lot for this place."

"Okay, I owe you," Sean agreed, before they started to walk down from the hill, leaving the stone alone on the ground, the inscription now visible to the world and staring up at the sky.