Summary: Response to a challenge set by anon462 on Elysian Fields. Set post season finale of both AtS and BtVS. Spike has shanshued but hates it. Angel tries to help him adjust but Spike resents it. One day he is seriously injured in a fight with demons and Angel turns to the one person who he knows can help Spike recover - Buffy - how will she react to the news that Spike's alive?
Rating: PG-13
1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 :: 36 :: 37 :: 38 :: 39 :: 40 :: 41 :: 42 ::
Author's Notes: This is a response to challenge by anon462 on Elysian Fields- Post NFA. - Spike got the Shanshu and was turned human, and hates it. Spike hates having a weak human body, even though he actually is stronger now than when he was human the first time. Spike refuses to stop fighting and keeps getting hurt, sometimes really badly. Angel tries to cover his back and protect him during the fights, which just makes Spike angry (angry at Angel for trying to keep him alive) and hate being human even more. After a fight where Spike gets hurt really bad and is unconscious, Angel realizes that Spike is trying to get himself killed. (Spike wants to die, but he can’t just let himself be killed, his pride won’t let him commit suicide, he has to go down fighting.) Angel calls Buffy. (Will she care? Will she even want to help?) My first attempt at a challenge but i've been playing with it for a while and decided to post!! Can't stand leaving things unfinished. will post probably weekly as concentrating on Parallel Lives the sequel to Changing Lives. Let me know what you think!! apologies to Legen who I've seen is posting for same challenge!!
“Arrrgghh!”
The scream ripped through the quiet. Angel woke with a start and leapt out of bed, looking around wildly.
“An…gel…Christ…what’s…hap…arrrgghh!”
The words disappeared into another blood curdling scream.
“Spike!” yelled Angel.
He raced out of his room and into the one opposite. Spike was writhing
on the bed, face contorted with pain. Angel hesitated, unsure of what
to make of the scene before his eyes. Lights were dancing around
Spike’s body - they looked like they were actually going inside of him.
“Spike!” Angel cried again and ran to the bed, hands outstretched and
ready to pull Spike away from whatever the weird lights were. As he
reached the bed the lights pulsed and, with a flash of blinding light,
Angel was flung backwards through the air, finally crashing into the
wall with such force that he was unconscious before he slid to the
floor.
Spike’s movements became weaker as the lights continued to dance around
and within his body. His cries became quiet until, as the lights faded
away, he too lost consciousness.
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Angel groaned and put a hand to his throbbing head. He struggled to
focus his thoughts sufficiently to remember what had happened. He
rolled over until he was on his knees and then used the wall to help
him stand. He looked around vaguely, getting his bearings. He froze as
he saw Spike’s inert body on the bed, suddenly remembering the strange
lights. He walked over to him.
“Spike? Are you all right? Spike!”
When he got no response he put out a hand so he could shake him. As his fingers touched Spike’s arm he recoiled.
“What the hell?”
He touched him again. He hadn’t been mistaken. Spike was warm, more
than room temperature warm. Angel peered closely at Spike’s face. It
was no longer deathly pale. There was a faint hint of pink in his
complexion.
“My God,” whispered Angel, backing away from the bed.
He ran from the bedroom, hurtling down the staircase until he was in
the foyer of the Old Hyperion Hotel that served once more as his home.
He sat on the seats in the middle of it and put his head in his hands.
“No, it can’t be,” he said shaking his head slowly, his voice echoing in the empty space.
He closed his eyes as he thought of the previous weeks. After the
battle with the army of demons that the Senior Partners had unleashed
on them, only he and Spike had survived. Illyria had saved both of
their lives but at the cost of her own. Poor Gunn had barely made the
final fight and lasted only moments. Wesley died before that final
push. They should never have let the humans fight; they were never
going to be strong enough. Hell, he and Spike had barely made it.
They’d hid in the sewers for a week, feeding on whatever vermin they
could catch, and letting their wounds heal.
They finally decided to risk getting to Angel’s hotel, so Angel was
kind of back where he started years ago. They’d expected to be hunted
down but, to their amazement, they found Wolfram and Hart’s LA branch
had closed. Against all of the odds they had won.
Once they were fully recovered they’d started taking cases again. Sure
he and Spike still bickered, they had right from the start after
Drusilla sired Spike in 1880. But they found that they could work well
alongside each other, perhaps because they only had each other.
Angel lifted his head from his hands and looked back up the stairs. He
felt a surge of resentment towards the bleach-blond haired man. Yes,
that’s what Spike was now. There was only one explanation for what he’d
seen and felt. The Shanshu Prophecy must have been genuine and Spike
had been returned to his human form, the demon within banished.
“Why was it him and not me? We fought side by side to the end. So why
did it choose him?” thought Angel bitterly, although he could guess the
answer. It was because Spike had already died once saving the world
when he’d closed the Sunnydale Hellmouth.
Angel sighed and walked slowly back up the staircase. He hesitantly opened the door and glanced at the bed. It was empty.
“Spike? Are you there?” he called.
“Er…yeah…I’m in the bathroom,” replied Spike, his voice wavering.
Angel walked to the en suite bathroom and saw Spike. He was standing in
front of the mirror staring at it. Angel felt another pang. There was
the irrefutable proof that Spike was no longer a vampire - he had a
reflection.
Spike turned to Angel, eyes wide with disbelief. “Christ, mate,” he said weakly, “What do yer reckon to this?”
“Shanshu,” replied Angel quietly.
“What? You too? God, this is unreal,” gasped Spike.
Angel stepped closer to Spike until he was standing beside him.
“No, not me.” He nodded at the mirror.
Spike looked back at it. Angel was standing close enough to brush his shoulder but in the mirror Spike was standing alone.
“Why me?” asked Spike.
Angel shrugged.
“So it’s true then? I am a real boy again?”
Angel nodded.
“Bloody hell,” said Spike with feeling.
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The two stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say. A
slightly built blond man and bulkier, taller, brown haired vampire.
“So are you going to find Buffy then?” asked Angel, cringing at the whining tone of his voice.
“What?” said Spike. He shook his head, “Um…I don’t think so.”
Angel couldn’t believe his ears. He thought he’d be on the first plane to Italy.
“Why not?”
“Well, nothing’s changed, has it? She still thinks I’m dead and she’s
still with the Immortal. I thought we were moving on?” replied Spike,
turning back to look at the mirror again. He couldn’t get over having a
reflection.
“You don’t call being made human a change?” asked Angel, “And stop staring at yourself. It’s freaking me out.”
“Jealous?” sneered Spike.
“No,” said Angel grumpily. “Of course I am!”
Spike walked out of the bathroom, pushing past Angel. He started pacing
back and forth in the bedroom. Angel followed him and sat down on the
bed.
“Will you stand still? You’re making me dizzy,” complained Angel.
Spike stood still. He couldn’t get his head round this. He’d fought
Angel for the Cup of Perpetual Torment because he’d been so desperate
to know that the Shanshu was real and to beat Angel for it. That test
had been a fake but now the prophecy had made him human and all he felt
was empty and terrified.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped at Angel, “Like I’m a bleeding freak.”
He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with all his
might. He stopped short when he realised the door hadn’t smashed into
pieces as was his intent but merely closed with a crash.
“What he f…? Oh shite.” He realised that he no longer had his vampire
strength. He strode down the staircase and to the entrance door.
“Spike, where are you going?” asked Angel, running after him.
Spike glanced back at Angel. He couldn’t stand the way he was looking
at him, all sort of hurt because it wasn’t him who was human.
“I’m going out,” Spike laughed, a touch hysterically.
“Wait, Spike. Look, stay here, and let’s talk this through for a while. It’s been a shock for you,” said Angel.
He could read Spike like a book after so long. He’d never been any good
at concealing his emotions and Angel knew that Spike was halfway to
freaking out completely.
“Gonna stop me?” said Spike as he opened the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight.
Angel instinctively stepped back.
“See yer later, Peaches.”
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