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Lost Soul. Chapter 8.
Before I have to run off to do housework etc. I just wanted to post the last chapter. Enjoy! :)
‘Lost Soul’ summary: Spike loses his soul AtS S5. Some wackiness ensues...
Previous Chapters here.
Chapter 8
When Spike had closed the bedroom door Angel let go of Ethan, who staggeringly found his balance.
“There are no tricks attached, right?” Angel asked. “You don’t have to do any spells or anything?”
“No, no!” Ethan swiftly confirmed. “He just needs to open the jar!”
“Good!” Angel said pleasantly, and knocked him out. Then he handcuffed him to the nearest item of large furniture, before he started to look around the small, bland sitting room. He turned off the TV and then discovered a large pile of casino chips in a bag next to the sofa. Putting it down on the table he thought it might be a nice idea to give it to the team - an unexpected bonus was bound to be good for morale.
Then the bedroom door opened and Spike came in slowly, his attention on the glowing jar in his hand.
Noticing the unconscious Ethan on the floor he frowned and cast Angel a glance. “What do I do?” he asked.
“Just open it.” Angel answered, not taking his eyes off Spike’s face.
This was it - the moment. The secret reason that Angel had insisted on coming along. Yes, all his other reasons had been valid too, but he had been curious - was Spike actually going to go through with it? And if so - why? Why willingly choose a painful, damning prison when once set free? He knew so little of what had befallen his grandchilde the last few years - what had happened that could have changed him so?
Spike appeared to be somewhere between terrified and excited, but then he closed his eyes in determination and took a deep breath. “Here comes pain,” he said and unscrewed the lid.
There was a minor soundless explosion. The jar fell out of Spike’s hand as he was lit up from the inside, internal flames claiming him. Crying out he fell to his knees, curled up as though someone had kicked his solar-plexus.
Angel was frozen in place, unable to move. He had been through the souling process three times now; knew that unbelievable agony first hand. The first time had been a surprise - the other two times he had fought with everything in him to avoid it. The torment was so incredibly unbearable initially. Everything stripped raw - every memory distressing beyond words. He had just about come to terms with the fact that Spike had chosen to get his soul back the first time - he was pigheaded enough to risk such a venture, not knowing the price. But to freely pick up that yoke a second time - fully aware of all implications...
Slowly Spike lifted his head. “Fuck that hurts!” he said, tears in his eyes. Then, after a shaky breath, he looked at the other vampire: “Angel - why am I such a bloody idiot?”
Shaken out of his stasis, Angel walked over and gave Spike a hand up. “I don’t know,” he said gently. “One of the mysteries of the universe!”
Seeing that Spike was still unsteady on his feet he put an arm around his shoulders, steadying him as he opened the door. Slowly they started walking down the corridor.
After getting Spike in the Viper, Angel told the team to go take care of Ethan - and that they could split his (no doubt ill-gotten) winnings. The three men walked off happily, pleased to have been chosen for such an enjoyable mission. Angel smiled, even though he knew that now he’d have to work out what to do with Mr Rayne on top of everything else.
Soon they were on the road again, the bright lights of Vegas rapidly vanishing. Angel glanced at Spike who was looking out the window, seemingly lost in thought. After an hour the darkness slowly receded, the colours greying in the growing light. Spike shifted uncomfortably and Angel accelerated slightly. It felt wrong to be out this close to sunrise when all their instincts told them to seek shelter. He looked at Spike again as the sun burst over the horizon, instantly bringing golden warmth to the desert landscape. Spike’s face was lit up too, but from the outside this time and Angel couldn’t help asking, as the recent events replayed themselves in his mind: “Why?”
Spike looked at him briefly, then went back to studying the view. After a few minutes he finally replied: “The first time... it was for Buffy.”
Angel nodded slowly, having half-guessed this already. There was obviously a story behind it, but not one that Spike was likely to ever share. Instead he found himself asking: “And this time?”
“This time?” Spike repeated, a faraway look on his face. “This time it was for me.”
Angel pondered this all the rest of the journey.
*********
When the car was finally parked in the car pool, neither of them moved. Angel was thinking hard, but finally he made up his mind. Turning to his passenger, he spoke: “Spike?”
“Yeah?” Spike answered, still not paying much attention.
“I...” Angel closed his eyes, wondering what was the best way to phrase the question. “I was wondering if you’d like to work here. This Illyria business is... difficult... but I know that it’s just the start. Things are going to get bad. Really bad. And - I’d like you on my team. You annoy me more than I can say, but - I need people I can trust.”
Spike was staring at him, speechless. He was obviously as surprised as Angel was himself.
Before Spike had a chance to reply however, Angel continued. He knew that if he didn’t do it now, he’d never be able to - he was still wondering whether he’d gone insane for saying what he was about to say.
He cleared his throat: “But before you make up you mind... does Buffy know you’re alive?”
Spike’s mouth dropped open. Slowly he shook his head, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Angel looked through the windscreen, surveying all the beautiful cars - symbols of the power and prestige he had these days.
How little it all meant.
“Did she love you?” he asked, and he could hear Spike’s sharp intake of breath. Slowly he turned his head and saw Spike staring at him, searching his face trying to work out what Angel was playing at. Realising that he was serious, Spike suddenly looked away.
“I... think so,” he said quietly.
Angel nodded. In his head he could see Spike with the jar, softly saying: “Here comes pain.” How very apt he thought. Before he could change his mind he looked at Spike again: “You should call her. She deserves to know.” Then he abruptly got out of the car.
Spike stared after Angel as he walked over to the lift and disappeared from view. What the hell had just happened? Angel had just said - what? A memory resurfaced - Buffy, talking to him: “You faced the monster inside and you fought back! I believe in you Spike.”
This was oddly similar. Angel wasn’t a great communicator, but carefully going over the one-sided conversation in his head, Spike began to see what he’d been trying to say. It was support from the unlikeliest place though - Lorne had tried to corner him on the Buffy issue, but to have Angel tell him to work it out? Incredible. He’d been avoiding the whole thing for so long now - scared to believe that she’d meant what she said. Even more frightened that she had not. Although after what Lorne had said...
For a long time he pondered his options. But knowing that there was a place for him; somewhere he was wanted - maybe even needed - felt good. There was the whole shanshu thing of course, which he wasn’t really all that bothered about - only if he was to make any kind of decision about the future, he’d better try to take everything into consideration.
A good while later he slowly got out of the Viper and made his way up to Angel’s office. It was - as he had expected - empty, Harmony informing him that the big boss had gone to bed.
He sat down in the large executive chair behind the desk and swiftly calculated the time difference between LA and Rome. Then he slowly picked up the phone and dialled the number he had known by heart for months now.
One - two - three - ring tones and then someone picked up. “Hello?”
If my heart could beat, it would break my chest...
“Buffy? It’s Spike...”
The End
‘Lost Soul’ summary: Spike loses his soul AtS S5. Some wackiness ensues...
Previous Chapters here.
When Spike had closed the bedroom door Angel let go of Ethan, who staggeringly found his balance.
“There are no tricks attached, right?” Angel asked. “You don’t have to do any spells or anything?”
“No, no!” Ethan swiftly confirmed. “He just needs to open the jar!”
“Good!” Angel said pleasantly, and knocked him out. Then he handcuffed him to the nearest item of large furniture, before he started to look around the small, bland sitting room. He turned off the TV and then discovered a large pile of casino chips in a bag next to the sofa. Putting it down on the table he thought it might be a nice idea to give it to the team - an unexpected bonus was bound to be good for morale.
Then the bedroom door opened and Spike came in slowly, his attention on the glowing jar in his hand.
Noticing the unconscious Ethan on the floor he frowned and cast Angel a glance. “What do I do?” he asked.
“Just open it.” Angel answered, not taking his eyes off Spike’s face.
This was it - the moment. The secret reason that Angel had insisted on coming along. Yes, all his other reasons had been valid too, but he had been curious - was Spike actually going to go through with it? And if so - why? Why willingly choose a painful, damning prison when once set free? He knew so little of what had befallen his grandchilde the last few years - what had happened that could have changed him so?
Spike appeared to be somewhere between terrified and excited, but then he closed his eyes in determination and took a deep breath. “Here comes pain,” he said and unscrewed the lid.
There was a minor soundless explosion. The jar fell out of Spike’s hand as he was lit up from the inside, internal flames claiming him. Crying out he fell to his knees, curled up as though someone had kicked his solar-plexus.
Angel was frozen in place, unable to move. He had been through the souling process three times now; knew that unbelievable agony first hand. The first time had been a surprise - the other two times he had fought with everything in him to avoid it. The torment was so incredibly unbearable initially. Everything stripped raw - every memory distressing beyond words. He had just about come to terms with the fact that Spike had chosen to get his soul back the first time - he was pigheaded enough to risk such a venture, not knowing the price. But to freely pick up that yoke a second time - fully aware of all implications...
Slowly Spike lifted his head. “Fuck that hurts!” he said, tears in his eyes. Then, after a shaky breath, he looked at the other vampire: “Angel - why am I such a bloody idiot?”
Shaken out of his stasis, Angel walked over and gave Spike a hand up. “I don’t know,” he said gently. “One of the mysteries of the universe!”
Seeing that Spike was still unsteady on his feet he put an arm around his shoulders, steadying him as he opened the door. Slowly they started walking down the corridor.
After getting Spike in the Viper, Angel told the team to go take care of Ethan - and that they could split his (no doubt ill-gotten) winnings. The three men walked off happily, pleased to have been chosen for such an enjoyable mission. Angel smiled, even though he knew that now he’d have to work out what to do with Mr Rayne on top of everything else.
Soon they were on the road again, the bright lights of Vegas rapidly vanishing. Angel glanced at Spike who was looking out the window, seemingly lost in thought. After an hour the darkness slowly receded, the colours greying in the growing light. Spike shifted uncomfortably and Angel accelerated slightly. It felt wrong to be out this close to sunrise when all their instincts told them to seek shelter. He looked at Spike again as the sun burst over the horizon, instantly bringing golden warmth to the desert landscape. Spike’s face was lit up too, but from the outside this time and Angel couldn’t help asking, as the recent events replayed themselves in his mind: “Why?”
Spike looked at him briefly, then went back to studying the view. After a few minutes he finally replied: “The first time... it was for Buffy.”
Angel nodded slowly, having half-guessed this already. There was obviously a story behind it, but not one that Spike was likely to ever share. Instead he found himself asking: “And this time?”
“This time?” Spike repeated, a faraway look on his face. “This time it was for me.”
Angel pondered this all the rest of the journey.
*********
When the car was finally parked in the car pool, neither of them moved. Angel was thinking hard, but finally he made up his mind. Turning to his passenger, he spoke: “Spike?”
“Yeah?” Spike answered, still not paying much attention.
“I...” Angel closed his eyes, wondering what was the best way to phrase the question. “I was wondering if you’d like to work here. This Illyria business is... difficult... but I know that it’s just the start. Things are going to get bad. Really bad. And - I’d like you on my team. You annoy me more than I can say, but - I need people I can trust.”
Spike was staring at him, speechless. He was obviously as surprised as Angel was himself.
Before Spike had a chance to reply however, Angel continued. He knew that if he didn’t do it now, he’d never be able to - he was still wondering whether he’d gone insane for saying what he was about to say.
He cleared his throat: “But before you make up you mind... does Buffy know you’re alive?”
Spike’s mouth dropped open. Slowly he shook his head, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Angel looked through the windscreen, surveying all the beautiful cars - symbols of the power and prestige he had these days.
How little it all meant.
“Did she love you?” he asked, and he could hear Spike’s sharp intake of breath. Slowly he turned his head and saw Spike staring at him, searching his face trying to work out what Angel was playing at. Realising that he was serious, Spike suddenly looked away.
“I... think so,” he said quietly.
Angel nodded. In his head he could see Spike with the jar, softly saying: “Here comes pain.” How very apt he thought. Before he could change his mind he looked at Spike again: “You should call her. She deserves to know.” Then he abruptly got out of the car.
Spike stared after Angel as he walked over to the lift and disappeared from view. What the hell had just happened? Angel had just said - what? A memory resurfaced - Buffy, talking to him: “You faced the monster inside and you fought back! I believe in you Spike.”
This was oddly similar. Angel wasn’t a great communicator, but carefully going over the one-sided conversation in his head, Spike began to see what he’d been trying to say. It was support from the unlikeliest place though - Lorne had tried to corner him on the Buffy issue, but to have Angel tell him to work it out? Incredible. He’d been avoiding the whole thing for so long now - scared to believe that she’d meant what she said. Even more frightened that she had not. Although after what Lorne had said...
For a long time he pondered his options. But knowing that there was a place for him; somewhere he was wanted - maybe even needed - felt good. There was the whole shanshu thing of course, which he wasn’t really all that bothered about - only if he was to make any kind of decision about the future, he’d better try to take everything into consideration.
A good while later he slowly got out of the Viper and made his way up to Angel’s office. It was - as he had expected - empty, Harmony informing him that the big boss had gone to bed.
He sat down in the large executive chair behind the desk and swiftly calculated the time difference between LA and Rome. Then he slowly picked up the phone and dialled the number he had known by heart for months now.
One - two - three - ring tones and then someone picked up. “Hello?”
If my heart could beat, it would break my chest...
“Buffy? It’s Spike...”
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Thank *you* for reading! I sometimes wonder if anyone ever looks at my old fic, and this was a truly welcome surprise. ♥
and thank you for changing the Fred/Illyria arc ... I'm a sucker for true love and happy endings.
Aren't we all? I mean, tragedy is all well and good, but we have plenty of that everywhere around us.
I always thought someone should have ended up with a girl so why not Wesley
I see no flaw in this reasoning. :)
(he would have also made a smashing Dread Pirate Roberts!).
Ooooh, he would! I could get behind that too.
Thank you again, I really appreciate this more than I can say.