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Lost Soul. Chapter 6.
We got a new keyboard for the Mac! ::dances:: It's nice that we have the PC as back-up of course, but it is very limited what I can do on it. ::hugs iMac::
So, first of all I bring you a little more fic.
‘Lost Soul’ summary: Spike loses his soul AtS S5. Some wackiness ensues...
Previous Chapters here
Chapter 6
Angel was ready to hurl something at the wall when the phone rang. Or rather hurl something at Harmony that would result in a satisfying crunch. He had expressly told her not to put any calls through. Partly because Fred was still asleep on his sofa, but also because he just wanted a bit of peace and quiet to get some work done - surely that wasn’t too much to ask?
But, as though being turned into a puppet recently wasn’t enough, now Spike had managed to get himself into even more of a pickle than the time that psycho slayer cut off his hands. And as if to prove something - although Angel wasn’t sure what - he claimed to want his soul back. Well Angel would believe that when he saw it. He felt uneasy about letting Spike roam freely, but he couldn’t very well voice doubt over Lorne’s reading without seeming petty. And if Spike did eat someone... well, he had a high staff turnover - had killed a good portion himself.
Oh god, how he hated his life and what he was becoming...
Gritting his teeth he picked up the receiver and heard a much too familiar voice.
“Angel?”
“Spike - you have three seconds-”
“Is Fred still there?” Spike cut in.
Angel automatically looked at the sofa, seeing Fred’s quiet, softly breathing figure outlined under the blanket.
“Of course she’s still here and now you nearly woke her up!”
There was a sigh of relief at the other end. “Right - I need you to come down to the lab straight away! Only - bugger, have to make sure someone’s watching Fred. Ask... oh ask Wesley.”
Angel closed his eyes. Talk about a bad day getting worse: “Spike have you gone insane? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Something was delivered this morning that’ll kill Fred if we’re not very, very careful. Get Wesley to look after her and impress upon him that if she leaves your office she’ll die! That should do it - a concerned lover is the best guard.”
Oh dear god, Spike really had gone insane.
“Kill Fred? Lover? Spike you are making NO sense whatsoever!”
“Just do as I say - I’ll explain when you get here!” There was genuine urgency in Spike’s voice and Angel realised that he might actually be serious. “Fine. But what’s this about Wesley and Fred?”
A short silence. “You didn’t know?”
“I didn’t know that there was anything to know.” He sighed. “Fine I’ll do as you asked. See you in a few minutes. But if this is some sort of prank I’m throwing you out the window!”
“Just be quick!” Spike said and hung up.
When Angel walked into Fred’s lab a little later, he noticed two things. First that bizarrely there was a large stone sarcophagus in the middle of the floor and second that Fred’s assistant, whose name escaped him, was tied up on the floor next to it, looking slightly worse for wear. Spike was standing beside the lad, a grim look on his face.
“Right Spike, are you going to explain what on earth is going on?”
As Spike carefully related what he had managed to get out of Knox, Angel could feel the simmering anger slowly getting stronger. He had a good mind to wring the little bastard’s neck himself, and was surprised at how little Spike had beaten him up. Apart from a few bruises, he had barely touched him.
“So,” Spike finished, “That’s all I’ve managed to find out. He still keeps wailing that it’s all predestined and that Fred will be elevated and all that bullshit. Personally I doubt the prophecy says anything about a sweet little Texan girl.”
Angel nodded. “If we could remove Fred from the equation, it would be a lot simpler. You - Knox is it? - what did you do?”
Knox looked at him with eyes that were disturbingly like Dru’s. “Only Fred is worthy to be Illyria’s vessel - only she is pure and good enough- ow!”
Spike had hit him over the back of the head. “Keeps on like that - I think it’s time for a bit of... persuasion.”
Angel looked at him sharply, and Spike looked back, eyes dark and glittering. Angel knew that look - he could almost feel the century that had passed since last time crumble into dust as a host of memories came flooding back. How many times had they done this? So much delicious pain and fear, waiting to be unleashed - the two of them working together like a well oiled machine.
Spike turned back to the young man:
“Now boy - there are many ways to make you talk. I know I said I was going to eat you, but that seems rather impractical given the circumstances. So, I’m thinking we’ll try a bit of torture. Angel here used to be a genius back in the old days and taught me some very neat tricks...”
He looked critically at Knox, whose face was suddenly looking worried.
“I’d say we start with the eyes - lots of pain, but won’t impair your speaking abilities. Hm, I could just gouge one out I suppose, but that’s rather unrefined - Angelus used to be very particular about all that finesse crap.” He tilted his head, thinking aloud: “Now it’s fun popping them out because they make the loveliest sound, but it’s not all that painful...” he cast a glance at Angel. “Didn’t you use a fishing hook once?”
Angel felt strangely disconnected. The familiarity of the situation was so strong that he found himself answering without thinking. “Yeah - used the eyeballs as bait. Caught a huge fish... but we don’t have any hooks to hand. We need something different - how about an ice cream scoop? I’m sure they have one in the canteen.”
Spike grinned widely. “That’s bloody brilliant! I told you he was a genius!” he smiled at Knox who was now looking from one to the other, terrified. “You can’t - it’s not - I’m the Qwa’ha-Xahn...”
Spike knelt down in front of him. “We can do anything we like, kid! And this is Wolfram & Hart - torturing the employees is almost mandatory!” He smiled again, a slow unpleasant grin, and Angel almost felt sorry for the boy, now pleading frantically. He’d forgotten how very, very nasty Spike could be when he set his mind to it... and how wide a gap there really was between souled Spike who just liked annoying people and unsouled Spike who liked hurting them. Realising that Knox was actually saying something useful, he started paying attention.
“I did a spell - a sacred dedication spell that would ensure that Fred was the Chosen One... “
“OK,” Angel said. “Undo the spell!”
Knox looked at them wildly and began to laugh. “I can’t - if I undo the spell it could be anyone - anyone at all! The first person to come near it would be Illyria’s vessel.”
“Bugger!” Spike said.
Angel was thinking hard. “We’ll work something out. First I’ll have this put into storage - locked up safely deep down in the basement somewhere. Then we can research.”
Spike nodded and pulled Knox to his feet: “Come on Knoxy... you can have the pleasure of explaining to Wesley why you were going to let a demon god kill his girlfriend. If you’re lucky he won’t be in the vicinity of any guns!”
**********
By evening they were a bit wiser, but not nearer to a solution. They now knew that the sarcophagus had come from ‘The Deeper Well’ in England, but the very logical solution of just sending it back had been thwarted by Knox - yet again the worshipful fanatic:
“We will bring it back. The prophecy will be fulfilled. The followers of Illyria may not be many, but we will bring it back, even if we have to settle for a lesser vessel. The world will learn to tremble before it!”
Fred had hit him after that little speech, but it still left them undecided as to what to do.
Spike, thoroughly bored, was the one who accidentally came up with something approximating an answer: “Why don’t we just redo the spell so it’ll be aimed at someone else - like Harmony. I’m sure Angel can train a new bimbo to bring him his mug of blood!”
“Apart from the ethical quandary of willingly sacrificing someone we know - soul or no soul - I am not sure that it would be possible to use a vampire.” Wesley said, tiredly rubbing his eyes.
“Well, we just need to find a willing human... what about him?” Spike pointed to Knox, bound and now also gagged.
Knox shook his head violently and tried to say something, but no one was interested in finding out what.
Angel sighed. “It is very tempting, but -”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Spike huffed. “Can’t kill people just because they’re idiots. What we need is a mass murdering psychopath who -” He stopped abruptly, eyes widening.
Then a wide smile of pure delight slowly spread across his face. “Hey - I got it!”
“Got what?” Angel asked.
“I found a vessel! Someone truly deserving of having their soul obliterated!” He cast a swift angry glance at Knox and Fred shuddered involuntarily.
“Well, do enlighten us then.” Wesley said.
“Pavayne!” Spike announced proudly.
Silence fell as they considered this.
After a minute Spike continued. “Of course we’ll still have a Hell God on our hands, but since this Illyria thing was killed once already surely we can find a way of getting rid of it again!”
Angel nodded slowly, surprised that Spike actually made sense.
Fred, who had been very quiet, looked at Spike: “I know this sounds really odd, but - I was just thinking that if your soul hadn’t been stolen, I would probably still have been in the lab when that thing was delivered...” she stopped and Wesley took her hand, squeezing it tightly.
Spike smiled. “Seems a small price to pay to keep you here...”
Just then there was a knock on the door and Gunn entered. “We found Ethan!”
Chapter 7.
So, first of all I bring you a little more fic.
‘Lost Soul’ summary: Spike loses his soul AtS S5. Some wackiness ensues...
Previous Chapters here
Angel was ready to hurl something at the wall when the phone rang. Or rather hurl something at Harmony that would result in a satisfying crunch. He had expressly told her not to put any calls through. Partly because Fred was still asleep on his sofa, but also because he just wanted a bit of peace and quiet to get some work done - surely that wasn’t too much to ask?
But, as though being turned into a puppet recently wasn’t enough, now Spike had managed to get himself into even more of a pickle than the time that psycho slayer cut off his hands. And as if to prove something - although Angel wasn’t sure what - he claimed to want his soul back. Well Angel would believe that when he saw it. He felt uneasy about letting Spike roam freely, but he couldn’t very well voice doubt over Lorne’s reading without seeming petty. And if Spike did eat someone... well, he had a high staff turnover - had killed a good portion himself.
Oh god, how he hated his life and what he was becoming...
Gritting his teeth he picked up the receiver and heard a much too familiar voice.
“Angel?”
“Spike - you have three seconds-”
“Is Fred still there?” Spike cut in.
Angel automatically looked at the sofa, seeing Fred’s quiet, softly breathing figure outlined under the blanket.
“Of course she’s still here and now you nearly woke her up!”
There was a sigh of relief at the other end. “Right - I need you to come down to the lab straight away! Only - bugger, have to make sure someone’s watching Fred. Ask... oh ask Wesley.”
Angel closed his eyes. Talk about a bad day getting worse: “Spike have you gone insane? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Something was delivered this morning that’ll kill Fred if we’re not very, very careful. Get Wesley to look after her and impress upon him that if she leaves your office she’ll die! That should do it - a concerned lover is the best guard.”
Oh dear god, Spike really had gone insane.
“Kill Fred? Lover? Spike you are making NO sense whatsoever!”
“Just do as I say - I’ll explain when you get here!” There was genuine urgency in Spike’s voice and Angel realised that he might actually be serious. “Fine. But what’s this about Wesley and Fred?”
A short silence. “You didn’t know?”
“I didn’t know that there was anything to know.” He sighed. “Fine I’ll do as you asked. See you in a few minutes. But if this is some sort of prank I’m throwing you out the window!”
“Just be quick!” Spike said and hung up.
When Angel walked into Fred’s lab a little later, he noticed two things. First that bizarrely there was a large stone sarcophagus in the middle of the floor and second that Fred’s assistant, whose name escaped him, was tied up on the floor next to it, looking slightly worse for wear. Spike was standing beside the lad, a grim look on his face.
“Right Spike, are you going to explain what on earth is going on?”
As Spike carefully related what he had managed to get out of Knox, Angel could feel the simmering anger slowly getting stronger. He had a good mind to wring the little bastard’s neck himself, and was surprised at how little Spike had beaten him up. Apart from a few bruises, he had barely touched him.
“So,” Spike finished, “That’s all I’ve managed to find out. He still keeps wailing that it’s all predestined and that Fred will be elevated and all that bullshit. Personally I doubt the prophecy says anything about a sweet little Texan girl.”
Angel nodded. “If we could remove Fred from the equation, it would be a lot simpler. You - Knox is it? - what did you do?”
Knox looked at him with eyes that were disturbingly like Dru’s. “Only Fred is worthy to be Illyria’s vessel - only she is pure and good enough- ow!”
Spike had hit him over the back of the head. “Keeps on like that - I think it’s time for a bit of... persuasion.”
Angel looked at him sharply, and Spike looked back, eyes dark and glittering. Angel knew that look - he could almost feel the century that had passed since last time crumble into dust as a host of memories came flooding back. How many times had they done this? So much delicious pain and fear, waiting to be unleashed - the two of them working together like a well oiled machine.
Spike turned back to the young man:
“Now boy - there are many ways to make you talk. I know I said I was going to eat you, but that seems rather impractical given the circumstances. So, I’m thinking we’ll try a bit of torture. Angel here used to be a genius back in the old days and taught me some very neat tricks...”
He looked critically at Knox, whose face was suddenly looking worried.
“I’d say we start with the eyes - lots of pain, but won’t impair your speaking abilities. Hm, I could just gouge one out I suppose, but that’s rather unrefined - Angelus used to be very particular about all that finesse crap.” He tilted his head, thinking aloud: “Now it’s fun popping them out because they make the loveliest sound, but it’s not all that painful...” he cast a glance at Angel. “Didn’t you use a fishing hook once?”
Angel felt strangely disconnected. The familiarity of the situation was so strong that he found himself answering without thinking. “Yeah - used the eyeballs as bait. Caught a huge fish... but we don’t have any hooks to hand. We need something different - how about an ice cream scoop? I’m sure they have one in the canteen.”
Spike grinned widely. “That’s bloody brilliant! I told you he was a genius!” he smiled at Knox who was now looking from one to the other, terrified. “You can’t - it’s not - I’m the Qwa’ha-Xahn...”
Spike knelt down in front of him. “We can do anything we like, kid! And this is Wolfram & Hart - torturing the employees is almost mandatory!” He smiled again, a slow unpleasant grin, and Angel almost felt sorry for the boy, now pleading frantically. He’d forgotten how very, very nasty Spike could be when he set his mind to it... and how wide a gap there really was between souled Spike who just liked annoying people and unsouled Spike who liked hurting them. Realising that Knox was actually saying something useful, he started paying attention.
“I did a spell - a sacred dedication spell that would ensure that Fred was the Chosen One... “
“OK,” Angel said. “Undo the spell!”
Knox looked at them wildly and began to laugh. “I can’t - if I undo the spell it could be anyone - anyone at all! The first person to come near it would be Illyria’s vessel.”
“Bugger!” Spike said.
Angel was thinking hard. “We’ll work something out. First I’ll have this put into storage - locked up safely deep down in the basement somewhere. Then we can research.”
Spike nodded and pulled Knox to his feet: “Come on Knoxy... you can have the pleasure of explaining to Wesley why you were going to let a demon god kill his girlfriend. If you’re lucky he won’t be in the vicinity of any guns!”
**********
By evening they were a bit wiser, but not nearer to a solution. They now knew that the sarcophagus had come from ‘The Deeper Well’ in England, but the very logical solution of just sending it back had been thwarted by Knox - yet again the worshipful fanatic:
“We will bring it back. The prophecy will be fulfilled. The followers of Illyria may not be many, but we will bring it back, even if we have to settle for a lesser vessel. The world will learn to tremble before it!”
Fred had hit him after that little speech, but it still left them undecided as to what to do.
Spike, thoroughly bored, was the one who accidentally came up with something approximating an answer: “Why don’t we just redo the spell so it’ll be aimed at someone else - like Harmony. I’m sure Angel can train a new bimbo to bring him his mug of blood!”
“Apart from the ethical quandary of willingly sacrificing someone we know - soul or no soul - I am not sure that it would be possible to use a vampire.” Wesley said, tiredly rubbing his eyes.
“Well, we just need to find a willing human... what about him?” Spike pointed to Knox, bound and now also gagged.
Knox shook his head violently and tried to say something, but no one was interested in finding out what.
Angel sighed. “It is very tempting, but -”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Spike huffed. “Can’t kill people just because they’re idiots. What we need is a mass murdering psychopath who -” He stopped abruptly, eyes widening.
Then a wide smile of pure delight slowly spread across his face. “Hey - I got it!”
“Got what?” Angel asked.
“I found a vessel! Someone truly deserving of having their soul obliterated!” He cast a swift angry glance at Knox and Fred shuddered involuntarily.
“Well, do enlighten us then.” Wesley said.
“Pavayne!” Spike announced proudly.
Silence fell as they considered this.
After a minute Spike continued. “Of course we’ll still have a Hell God on our hands, but since this Illyria thing was killed once already surely we can find a way of getting rid of it again!”
Angel nodded slowly, surprised that Spike actually made sense.
Fred, who had been very quiet, looked at Spike: “I know this sounds really odd, but - I was just thinking that if your soul hadn’t been stolen, I would probably still have been in the lab when that thing was delivered...” she stopped and Wesley took her hand, squeezing it tightly.
Spike smiled. “Seems a small price to pay to keep you here...”
Just then there was a knock on the door and Gunn entered. “We found Ethan!”
Chapter 7.
This chapter gave me the funniest image and an interesting train of thought
funnythought: Spike with blue hair in the skin tight Illyria armour... *goes off to ponder JM's body in that suit*
back now...
and how would Illyria have been different in Spike's body...?
Re: This chapter gave me the funniest image and an interesting train of thought
In case you don't know,