Still Ensouled 21

The air was bitter, so cold it reminded him of the first night he had stepped off the boat at Ellis Island. It was like that night in more ways than one, a new world was before him. The anticipation of what morning would bring was so heavy Angel thought for sure his knees would buckle. It had been two days since Buffy had called. Two days since a voice choking back tears had told her Spike was responsible for the entire town of Sunnydale, and all of the evil that resided there, being sucked into an imploding Hellmouth.

There was an image of red fire his mind. Skies that shone black and clouds that bled acid. A beast was chasing him and the faster he ran the closer the animal seemed to be. He felt the heat of its breath on the backs of his legs, so he ran faster, further into the darkness. He ran until he hit a wall, he knew the beast was behind him. He checked his body for weapons, but he found none. He reached a hand into the leather pouch that hung from his waist and when he brought his hand back out it was covered in blood.

He dropped his hand to his side and turned to face the beast. It stood before him and roared at a volume he thought would shatter his eardrums, and so he closed his eyes. He shut out visions of monstrous beasts and blood red sky. He held his eyes fast as rancorous breath washed over him and fire licked at his throat. In his mind he saw only Angel now.

He thought the sky might be blue, but in the refracted light of rainbow colors he couldn’t make it out for sure. He thought he could see faces peering at him, but he couldn’t hold onto them long enough to discern one from another. He tuned into a multitude of voices, were they chanting or talking? He felt like he was in some sort of ritual that he couldn’t understand. Maybe it was a funeral. He was dead right? Wasn’t that the custom, you spoke over the dead?

He tried to turn around in his prison to get a better view, but no matter what angle he looked through there wasn’t room to see. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the voices, hoping to make out just one, but the babble seemed even more intense. More voices had joined them. He closed his eyes and thought of Angel.

"So Eve tell me, how are the senior partners?" Angel entered the room with a bravado he had not felt in years. For once he was the one with the answers, he hadn’t been caught off guard, and he was ready to play his cards face up.

"They’re fine, Angel." She curled a blonde lock behind her ear and welcomed them to a long board table. There were several employees that Angel didn’t recognize, and a couple he had met the day before when they were packing up the hotel. Wolfram and Hart’s sweepers had been nothing if not efficient. The sanctorum spell had been lifted, all traces of life removed, and once again it was a ghost hotel.

"Well that’s just great. I guess I’ll call the meeting to order then." Angel said as he reached into his pocket for a long scroll. "I assume we’re all familiar with the scrolls of Aberjian? Good. The scrolls have a lot of interesting things to say about the vampire with a soul. That mythic creature that will play such a huge part in the final apocalypse. Now you see Wolfram and Hart have been pulling the strings for so long they forgot to look at the marionette to make sure it was the right one." He paused for a moment letting the sound of squeaking chairs calm.

"Well now, as we all know I’ve been playing the part of the marionette for so long I had forgotten to tighten my own strings and see who was pulling them. Funny thing is, I thought it was you, but now I know that the First was pulling you as well. It would be arrogant of me to think that all the shit I’ve been through in the last few years was really just about me, Wolfram and Hart was maneuvered into place just as much as I was. But here’s where you messed up. Lilah gave me the mystical amulet thingy knowing that possession is nine-tenths of the law. She knew that I would go to Sunnydale, use the amulet to stop the big evil from rising, and then be sucked into the crystal. She figured Wolfram and Hart would dig through the rubble, or just magic it out of the Hellmouth and throw me in a manila envelope for a few hundred years until I was needed again.

"Now, here’s the crux, she didn’t count on Spike being the one to wear the amulet. She forgot to check the mound to see if a curve ball was coming. So the way I see it Wolfram and Hart has two problems. Thanks to the Slayer’s digging I now have the amulet," Angel held the battered crystal up for them to see. "and I also am in control of the LA office, and since I’m not willing to give up either without a damn good offer I think it’s time to start negotiations." He sat down at the head of the table and leaned back in his chair, sharing a brief smile with Wesley.

"Let’s see, I have one childe trapped in here." He said waving the amulet around his finger. "And one up in the white room waiting for me. The powers owe me the life of one, you owe me the other." He sat up straight in his chair and looked around the room for someone to make an offer.

"I’m not asking you to reverse it, just give it truth. You see prophecy is a funny thing. ‘The father will kill the son’ looks so black and white on paper, but you’re fucking lawyers. You know as well as I do that prophecy is open to interpretation. So what I propose is this, if no one has a suggestion of their own?" He was met with a dozen blank faces, and so he continued. "You are going to give my son the life he deserves. You are going to let him finish out the life he should have had. You’re going to pull a Dawn Summers and stick him into a family that will love him, a family that has nothing to do with magic, or demons, or anything mystical. A family where he will never know he was the child of two vampires."

"Sorry Wes, but it’s the only way it will work. The entire world has to forget about Connor if he’s going to be safe, that includes me." He broke away from Wesley’s stare and looked back at Eve. "So, do we have a deal?"

There was a taste of sulfur in the air. It burned his nostrils and he could not block it out. He looked to Angel for a hand, but he did not seem to notice that the air was rancid. He didn’t need to breathe, it didn’t bother him. His father took his hand and kissed it to his mouth. He then placed a large hand over his mouth and for a moment the burning went away, but the hand did not move. He tried to gasp for air but the hand continued to smother him. After a moment he felt his mind swirl and get dizzy. He opened his eyes to look at Angel and thought he could make out words coming from his lips. "I love you, Connor."

"I just want to make sure that you know what you’re doing. You told me once that the oracles warned you about bringing Doyle back, they told you that negating his sacrifice would have far reaching consequences."

"But it wasn’t a trap. Buffy herself said that without the amulet and Spike’s assistance they never would have made it out of the Hellmouth alive. You did the right thing when you gave it to them. I just want to..."

"I understand Wesley, I do, but I have to have him here. Don’t you get that? When Darla died in the fire the Powers gave up the chance to pay me for passing the trial. When they couldn’t make good on their end they put one on the board marked IOU. Now I’m cashing in. Spike is not going to spend eternity here in this amulet. He is going to spend it with me."

The noise had been blissfully absent for what he suspected were hours, although he couldn’t be sure. The colors that made up his prison swirled violently around his body and he felt the spinning would never stop. There was a rush of sensation pulling him up. Where was up? He couldn’t tell and he thought it might make him insane. He wanted to touch the ground, he wanted to touch flesh. He was so hungry. He needed. He wanted. He craved. His body ached with the pain of his hunger.

And then the voices returned. The din grew louder and pounded at his brain. He felt his body being pulled. His chest burned as the words grew louder. A sudden panic filled his body. They were trying to take his soul. The voices that clawed at the walls of his prison, they had come to take his soul. He tried to fight the walls back. He banged fists and fangs against them, he struggled against the bonds that held him, but the voices only grew stronger, and then the pulling ebbed and he heard one voice separate itself from the void with perfect clarity.

Spike stopped his struggling, he shut his eyes tight and willed his muscles to relax. The very second he was still the pulling resumed, this time much stronger. He surrendered to the pain and when he opened his eyes he found himself standing in a room full of eyes watching him. The faces were blurs, but he felt their eyes penetrating into him. They examined every inch of his body with piercing vision and once his own eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room he saw why. He was standing in a pile of shattered glass, every inch of his naked flesh scarred with jagged cuts and skin still showing where the flames had licked at him mere days before.

He looked from face to face trying to find one he recognized, and when none came to his rescue he began to search for something to cover his body with. When that too proved futile he tried to speak, but no words would come out. He tried again, but the words were not there. He looked at the crowd with searching eyes barely registering their slow movements to either side of him. They continued to stare in wonder waiting for his senses to return, waiting for him to speak. But it was not voice that came back, it was scent. He sniffed at the air and began to cry.

The scent of his blood filled the air, but there was also a hint of myrtle and the faintest waft of saxifrage tingled in his nose. His soft cries turned to deep sobs as he finally registered why the crowd had parted to the sides of the room. Spike let out a soft moan of ‘Oh’ as he saw Angel walking towards him. He carried a black silken robe in his hands and reached out to place it over his childe’s shoulders. ‘Oh’ Spike repeated placing soft fingertips on Angel’s chest to make sure he was real. When he felt the contact and knew that it was no longer a dream his crying became uncontrollable.

Angel took his lover in his arms and kissed the top of his head, trying to brush away the remaining shards of crystal that littered his blonde locks. "Sshh." He whispered. "We’re all safe now."

The words forced Spike to lift his eyes and choke back his sobs. "Angel." He said with a graveled voice. Hearing his sire’s name from his lips sent Spike into another sob, but his cries were cut off by tender lips smothering his own. The kiss lasted several moments, forcing those in the room to look away and pretend to be occupied sweeping glass from the sterile marble floor or wipe up spots of blood that left stains on every surface. When Spike had calmed to some degree he pulled out of the kiss slowly and smiled broadly at his lover.

"You’re right, Wes wouldn’t mind a little nibble would he?" Spike deflected Angel’s elbow and then grabbed him around the waist, resting his head on Angel’s shoulder. "Fine, you’ll do."

They continued to walk down the hallway. "This place really is huge." Spike said. "How far is it to your office?" Angel laughed and they both ran to the nearest elevator before diving in.


	The Adventures of Captain Peroxide and Deadboy The Angel/Spike Zone of the BtVS Writer's Guild Home Updates Stories Resources Extras News Music Forum Contact Guestbook Links Full Version Fiction by: Title Author Pairing Rating Still Ensouled By Tania Chapter XXI - The Truth of Prophecy The air was bitter, so cold it reminded him of the first night he had stepped off the boat at Ellis Island. It was like that night in more ways than one, a new world was before him. The anticipation of what morning would bring was so heavy Angel thought for sure his knees would buckle. It had been two days since Buffy had called. Two days since a voice choking back tears had told her Spike was responsible for the entire town of Sunnydale, and all of the evil that resided there, being sucked into an imploding Hellmouth. Angel looked at the hard cement below him and let out a short curse. "Leap of faith." He murmured before jumping headfirst into the empty pool before him. "Well this is an unexpected surprise." A voice said as Angel rolled out of his dive and came to his feet. "Really?" He asked. "No, not really." The man before Angel said honestly. "We knew you would be back, but I can’t say we expected it to be for him." "He shouldn’t have had to live, or die, like he did." Angel said flatly. "And yet, you have two children laying in wait. You bargain for only one?" "Yes." "And you know that the price for one is the cost of the other?" "I know the price." "Very well then. You have earned a life we could not redeem. We now fulfill our part in all this if you have made your choice." "You already know it." Angel said as his eyes darkened. "Very well then. We will restore the life of your boy. Good day sir." Angel blinked back tears and when he opened his eyes he stood before the entire Angel Investigations team. "So it’s done." Wesley asked. "Yeah, it is. Let’s go upstairs. He won’t understand what’s happened to him." "I’m not sure I understand." Gunn said as they crowded into the elevator. "You will." Angel said as he pressed the button that would take them to the boardroom. **** There was an image of red fire his mind. Skies that shone black and clouds that bled acid. A beast was chasing him and the faster he ran the closer the animal seemed to be. He felt the heat of its breath on the backs of his legs, so he ran faster, further into the darkness. He ran until he hit a wall, he knew the beast was behind him. He checked his body for weapons, but he found none. He reached a hand into the leather pouch that hung from his waist and when he brought his hand back out it was covered in blood. He dropped his hand to his side and turned to face the beast. It stood before him and roared at a volume he thought would shatter his eardrums, and so he closed his eyes. He shut out visions of monstrous beasts and blood red sky. He held his eyes fast as rancorous breath washed over him and fire licked at his throat. In his mind he saw only Angel now. ** He thought the sky might be blue, but in the refracted light of rainbow colors he couldn’t make it out for sure. He thought he could see faces peering at him, but he couldn’t hold onto them long enough to discern one from another. He tuned into a multitude of voices, were they chanting or talking? He felt like he was in some sort of ritual that he couldn’t understand. Maybe it was a funeral. He was dead right? Wasn’t that the custom, you spoke over the dead? He tried to turn around in his prison to get a better view, but no matter what angle he looked through there wasn’t room to see. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the voices, hoping to make out just one, but the babble seemed even more intense. More voices had joined them. He closed his eyes and thought of Angel. ** "So Eve tell me, how are the senior partners?" Angel entered the room with a bravado he had not felt in years. For once he was the one with the answers, he hadn’t been caught off guard, and he was ready to play his cards face up. "They’re fine, Angel." She curled a blonde lock behind her ear and welcomed them to a long board table. There were several employees that Angel didn’t recognize, and a couple he had met the day before when they were packing up the hotel. Wolfram and Hart’s sweepers had been nothing if not efficient. The sanctorum spell had been lifted, all traces of life removed, and once again it was a ghost hotel. "Well that’s just great. I guess I’ll call the meeting to order then." Angel said as he reached into his pocket for a long scroll. "I assume we’re all familiar with the scrolls of Aberjian? Good. The scrolls have a lot of interesting things to say about the vampire with a soul. That mythic creature that will play such a huge part in the final apocalypse. Now you see Wolfram and Hart have been pulling the strings for so long they forgot to look at the marionette to make sure it was the right one." He paused for a moment letting the sound of squeaking chairs calm. "Well now, as we all know I’ve been playing the part of the marionette for so long I had forgotten to tighten my own strings and see who was pulling them. Funny thing is, I thought it was you, but now I know that the First was pulling you as well. It would be arrogant of me to think that all the shit I’ve been through in the last few years was really just about me, Wolfram and Hart was maneuvered into place just as much as I was. But here’s where you messed up. Lilah gave me the mystical amulet thingy knowing that possession is nine-tenths of the law. She knew that I would go to Sunnydale, use the amulet to stop the big evil from rising, and then be sucked into the crystal. She figured Wolfram and Hart would dig through the rubble, or just magic it out of the Hellmouth and throw me in a manila envelope for a few hundred years until I was needed again. "Now, here’s the crux, she didn’t count on Spike being the one to wear the amulet. She forgot to check the mound to see if a curve ball was coming. So the way I see it Wolfram and Hart has two problems. Thanks to the Slayer’s digging I now have the amulet," Angel held the battered crystal up for them to see. "and I also am in control of the LA office, and since I’m not willing to give up either without a damn good offer I think it’s time to start negotiations." He sat down at the head of the table and leaned back in his chair, sharing a brief smile with Wesley. "Mr. Angel." One of the lawyers began. "Just Angel, please." "Of course, mist...Angel. What exactly are you looking for?" "Let’s see, I have one childe trapped in here." He said waving the amulet around his finger. "And one up in the white room waiting for me. The powers owe me the life of one, you owe me the other." He sat up straight in his chair and looked around the room for someone to make an offer. It was finally Eve that spoke up. "Angel, what you’re asking is beyond our powers. You killed Connor, we don’t have the power to reverse prophecy here." "I’m not asking you to reverse it, just give it truth. You see prophecy is a funny thing. ‘The father will kill the son’ looks so black and white on paper, but you’re fucking lawyers. You know as well as I do that prophecy is open to interpretation. So what I propose is this, if no one has a suggestion of their own?" He was met with a dozen blank faces, and so he continued. "You are going to give my son the life he deserves. You are going to let him finish out the life he should have had. You’re going to pull a Dawn Summers and stick him into a family that will love him, a family that has nothing to do with magic, or demons, or anything mystical. A family where he will never know he was the child of two vampires." "Angel, if we were to, as you put it, pull a Dawn, you realize what that would mean for all of you?" Eve asked. "Yes, I know the price, and I’ve already paid it. Connor is dead to us now, the only difference is that in a few hours we won’t know the difference." "Angel." Wesley said. "You conveniently left that part of the deal out when we discussed this earlier." "Sorry Wes, but it’s the only way it will work. The entire world has to forget about Connor if he’s going to be safe, that includes me." He broke away from Wesley’s stare and looked back at Eve. "So, do we have a deal?" ** There was a taste of sulfur in the air. It burned his nostrils and he could not block it out. He looked to Angel for a hand, but he did not seem to notice that the air was rancid. He didn’t need to breathe, it didn’t bother him. His father took his hand and kissed it to his mouth. He then placed a large hand over his mouth and for a moment the burning went away, but the hand did not move. He tried to gasp for air but the hand continued to smother him. After a moment he felt his mind swirl and get dizzy. He opened his eyes to look at Angel and thought he could make out words coming from his lips. "I love you, Connor." Angel had called him Connor, and as he blacked out he heard one last word. "Goodbye." ** "Angel, can I talk to you for a minute?" Wesley stepped into the office and took a seat across from the vampire. "Sure." "I just want to make sure," He stopped, "Angel, will you at least look at me when I talk to you?" Angel wasn’t even aware that he was still turning the amulet in his hand. He lifted his eyes and met Wesley’s gaze. "I just want to make sure that you know what you’re doing. You told me once that the oracles warned you about bringing Doyle back, they told you that negating his sacrifice would have far reaching consequences." "That was different. He’s here Wesley." Angel squeezed the amulet. "He’s here, in my hand, and he’s here because I was too stupid to see that it was a trap." "But it wasn’t a trap. Buffy herself said that without the amulet and Spike’s assistance they never would have made it out of the Hellmouth alive. You did the right thing when you gave it to them. I just want to..." "I understand Wesley, I do, but I have to have him here. Don’t you get that? When Darla died in the fire the Powers gave up the chance to pay me for passing the trial. When they couldn’t make good on their end they put one on the board marked IOU. Now I’m cashing in. Spike is not going to spend eternity here in this amulet. He is going to spend it with me." "Alright then, everyone’s ready." ** The noise had been blissfully absent for what he suspected were hours, although he couldn’t be sure. The colors that made up his prison swirled violently around his body and he felt the spinning would never stop. There was a rush of sensation pulling him up. Where was up? He couldn’t tell and he thought it might make him insane. He wanted to touch the ground, he wanted to touch flesh. He was so hungry. He needed. He wanted. He craved. His body ached with the pain of his hunger. And then the voices returned. The din grew louder and pounded at his brain. He felt his body being pulled. His chest burned as the words grew louder. A sudden panic filled his body. They were trying to take his soul. The voices that clawed at the walls of his prison, they had come to take his soul. He tried to fight the walls back. He banged fists and fangs against them, he struggled against the bonds that held him, but the voices only grew stronger, and then the pulling ebbed and he heard one voice separate itself from the void with perfect clarity. "They’re safe now. Come back to me." Spike stopped his struggling, he shut his eyes tight and willed his muscles to relax. The very second he was still the pulling resumed, this time much stronger. He surrendered to the pain and when he opened his eyes he found himself standing in a room full of eyes watching him. The faces were blurs, but he felt their eyes penetrating into him. They examined every inch of his body with piercing vision and once his own eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room he saw why. He was standing in a pile of shattered glass, every inch of his naked flesh scarred with jagged cuts and skin still showing where the flames had licked at him mere days before. He looked from face to face trying to find one he recognized, and when none came to his rescue he began to search for something to cover his body with. When that too proved futile he tried to speak, but no words would come out. He tried again, but the words were not there. He looked at the crowd with searching eyes barely registering their slow movements to either side of him. They continued to stare in wonder waiting for his senses to return, waiting for him to speak. But it was not voice that came back, it was scent. He sniffed at the air and began to cry. The scent of his blood filled the air, but there was also a hint of myrtle and the faintest waft of saxifrage tingled in his nose. His soft cries turned to deep sobs as he finally registered why the crowd had parted to the sides of the room. Spike let out a soft moan of ‘Oh’ as he saw Angel walking towards him. He carried a black silken robe in his hands and reached out to place it over his childe’s shoulders. ‘Oh’ Spike repeated placing soft fingertips on Angel’s chest to make sure he was real. When he felt the contact and knew that it was no longer a dream his crying became uncontrollable. Angel took his lover in his arms and kissed the top of his head, trying to brush away the remaining shards of crystal that littered his blonde locks. "Sshh." He whispered. "We’re all safe now." The words forced Spike to lift his eyes and choke back his sobs. "Angel." He said with a graveled voice. Hearing his sire’s name from his lips sent Spike into another sob, but his cries were cut off by tender lips smothering his own. The kiss lasted several moments, forcing those in the room to look away and pretend to be occupied sweeping glass from the sterile marble floor or wipe up spots of blood that left stains on every surface. When Spike had calmed to some degree he pulled out of the kiss slowly and smiled broadly at his lover. "So how was your day?" Spike asked as he placed his hand in Angel’s and headed for the room’s only door. "Oh, the usual, fulfilled a prophecy, rescued your sorry ass." "Hey, it’s your ass that’s gonna be sorry." Spike said with a laugh. "I haven’t eaten for three days." "I’m sure we could whip something up." "Yeah, right, where’s Cordelia?" "Spike." "Okay, sorry, how bout Fred?" "Spike." "You’re right, Wes wouldn’t mind a little nibble would he?" Spike deflected Angel’s elbow and then grabbed him around the waist, resting his head on Angel’s shoulder. "Fine, you’ll do." They continued to walk down the hallway. "This place really is huge." Spike said. "How far is it to your office?" Angel laughed and they both ran to the nearest elevator before diving in. ** "Those pigs." Cordelia said as she picked the black robe up from the floor and waited for the elevator to come back down. *** People said "Don't let it end!" Copyright 2002-2003 - Tania Violators will be beaten to death with a shovel (A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend)