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Remember Me - Chapter 18

You just know don't you, when life is going to kick you in the balls. Well imagine it being unlife doing it to you and you'll know just how shitty it is. I just knew it was going to happen, cus it was all going too well.

Angel was finally mine. Mine in all the ways I had ever dreamt about him, fantasized about him, thought about him. But he was better than any of those too. He was himself, not some made up Angel in my head. And being himself meant I had to work at making him love me and want me all the time: I never, ever took him for granted.

I thought the leather was an especially nice touch. I saw that he appreciated my thoughtfulness the first time I wore it to work. They were the tightest pair of jeans I'd ever worn: kind of spray on really. I actually walked over to Angel's rather than take the car cus I was afraid of me bits if I sat down too long. Not that I have a circulation of course, but you don’t like to take chances, do you? But I almost wished I could see meself in a mirror. I thought I looked good, the bits I could see. But I'm ashamed to say, I wanted to see me ass in them too. I wanted to see what Angel would see. I teamed them up with a casual, plain tee-shirt, I thought it gave the impression I wasn’t bothered…just something I'd thrown on. Then I went into action.

He turned from quiet, broody boss to sex maniac with one glance in my direction. If he'd have been breathing, he'd have stopped. He went very still and laid his pen down very slowly on the desk. I was working hard to maintain the…I have no idea what you are so interested in…look. I perched on Cordelia's desk and chatted to her. I went over to pour some coffee, making sure of course I had my backside aimed right at Angel. I couldn’t drink the coffee cus the pants were too tight, but you have to suffer for your art. I wandered in to Angel's office and went round to his side of the desk, sitting casually on it, flicking though his in-tray. Fortunately Cordelia and Wesley followed me in to discuss some cases so the poor old Vampire had to pretend he wasn't about to cum, then and there, in his office.

'Anything interesting in today?'

'What?' Poor old bugger. His cock is so urgent it's practically signaling for help.

'Work, Mate. Any interesting cases?'

'Uh.' He can't take his eyes off my leather-clad thighs. But he doesn't want to be caught actually looking, with his human employees here. What they don't know about us, won't hurt 'em.

I'm feeling really wicked, so I stretch one leg up onto the desk more fully and lean on it, opening up a full view of my crotch for Angel.

He actually groans and starts to bite down on his lip, he can't look, but he is looking and he knows, I know, he is looking when he looks like he isn't.

I turn evil. I get up and slowly turn around and lean on my elbows on the desk ostensibly looking at some paperwork. My ass, in all its leather-clad glory, is now only inches from Angel's face. And although I haven’t seen it in a mirror, I guess I don’t really need to, cus you aren’t this thin without looking good in leather. I hum a track I heard on the radio that morning, swaying my hips from side to side. All this is done so subtly and naturally that the Bint and Wes don’t even see anything amiss. They continue their conversation with Angel, completely missing the point that Angel is not listening to a word they are saying. I know exactly what Angel is doing, he has me bent even further over this desk, he has my leather jeans down to my knees and he has his huge, thick cock pleasurably in my tight ass. But they don’t know this; they think he is listening to them with rapt attention.

Time for evil to become…Spiked!

'Hey, Cordelia, didn’t you want to talk to Angel about a raise?'

'Yes, I did, hey, did you already tell him! I told you not to tell him, Spike. Angel. I want a raise and so does Wesley. Spike doesn't need one because you shouldn't be paying him anyway because he's got far too much money. I, on the other hand, have to maintain this hair, this body and these teeth, and that as you know…oh you don't know do you…well it's expensive and this is LA, so I have to go to the gym and…'

'Cordelia, just ask him if he agrees to a raise, name your sum, be bold.'

So she did and was. She named an exorbitant sum and asked Angel if he agreed to it. He continued his glazed stare at her, which was really a covert look at my backside in disguise and agreed wholeheartedly to her request. He hadn't heard a word she said of course and his agreement was merely to the question I had asked him in his fantasy. Apparently I took just that moment to ask him to take my cock in his hands and bring me off all over the papers in the in-tray.

I only know all this of course cus as soon as Cordelia and Wes left the office elated and in need of a post-ask-the-boss-for-a-raise-difficult-moment, celebration lunch, Angel came out of his fantasy, grabbed me round the waist, pulled my jeans down and did just what he had been thinking about, telling me about it as he did it. We like sharing fantasies now, he'd have been embarrassed about the in-tray bit before we did all that sharing in England, cus it doesn't say quite the right thing about his attitude to his work, but now he likes it.

So, if he had some new, interesting cases come in that day, we never knew cus they had to be gingerly picked up and destroyed. We tried to shred them, but they were too soggy and mushed up the machine, so then we decided to flush them. But a trip downstairs seemed a shame to waste, so we took a detour to the bedroom and Angel enjoyed the front of the leather pants for a while too.

He just loves me in leather. They've been such a success in the office I thought I'd give them an airing on a case too. He appreciated that even more. Trouble is, he’s started to get his own back too.

He’s beginning to realize just how much I not only love him, need him and want him, but how much I actually fancy him: like-what-I-see fancy him. It’s almost embarrassing. He’s supposed to fancy me, not the other way around. I’m the gorgeous, irresistible one; he’s the one lucky to have me, not the other way around. He noticed this embarrassing new trait of mine that evening when I wore me leather jeans...in public for the first time. We were rescuing some bint that had bad taste in men, from a demon that had good taste in women. Hey! No wonder the poof likes cases like this; maybe in some deep recesses of his poncey brain he’s rescuing Buffy from him. Won’t point that Freudian little conundrum out to him though.

But we did the bit with the demon. That’s the bit when he really got a new appreciation for my fighting skills when they were encased in tight black leather. Oh, he just so got distracted when I did my high, spinning kick. He so nearly lost it when, landing on my back I flipped back up to standing in one agile move. Ended up that I had to kill the demon of course, but I didn’t mind that, the sight of my Sire standing there watching me, clearly fucking me blind in his head was a bit of a turn on and I kill best when I’m turned on. Sex, death, pain, killing, it’s what I do. Didn’t especially like the getting sprayed with the fucker’s watery, oily blood, but it’s all in a day’s work I guess.

I took my lover then against the wall of that old, abandoned factory. I rubbed the leather against his ass as I pulled his pants down, I took myself out just enough to be able to get it in him then thrust so hard on each stroke he came away with leather imprinted on his hard, white cheeks. We didn’t want to make too much noise; we had humans nearby, so I had the pleasure of seeing Angel biting his own wrist to keep from screaming his delight at this vicious, unexpected intrusion.

But, as I say, he got his own back when we went to find the Bint we’d come to rescue. I don’t do this bit. This is the bit where I lurk and study my nails and think of getting Angel in the sack again, cus I think it’s all too wussy this rescuing humans stuff. I’ve given up me swirly-coat fantasy…I’ve moved on to fuckable in leather and I’m concentrating me efforts on that for a while. But this time, guess cus I was reluctant to let Angel get more that a few feet away from me, I watched him with the girl.

I never thought a demon and a Master Vampire with a very keen knowledge of torture and a delight in violent, perverse sex could be so gentle and so bloody…sweet with anything so tiny and fragile. She only looked in her teens. She ain’t gonna want to date for quite a while after this little experience, but I bet when she does, it’ll be a six-foot, dark haired, face of an angel figure she’ll be hoping for. Cus I saw the way she looked at him. So I looked too. And that’s when it happened. That’s when Angel took on a whole new and interesting persona for me, not the fuckable, unbreakable demon who I adored beyond what I would have thought as my own capacity for love, now I saw him as someone who had saved me. I started to see him as a bit of a hero. Fuck it, my hero, and that made me hard and horny as hell.

Sometimes having Vampire sexual stamina is a good thing. Shit, what am I saying, it’s always a good thing. I guess cus we don’t have any circulation, I guess cus we are only tricks of the light, when we want it; it’s there for us. Want hard…get hard. But it never works the other way, want not hard…tough shit. So even though I had just pumped the best part of what seemed like a pint of cum into Angel’s arse only a few moments ago, looking at Angel and thinking about how heroic he was made me hard again. Embarrassingly hard. So hard I felt the need for some adjustment, but couldn’t given I was kind of under the gaze of the damsel in distress. And now, not only was I suffering for buying leather, one size too small, I was in wet leather, one size too small. Oh yeah, the joke was on me. Angelus had showed me a trick with leather once, in his, ‘I so love to torture things’, days which involved bands of wet leather, hapless humans and cocks that would be squeezed off as the leather dried. Funny when it’s someone else, not so funny when it was me; slightly damp jeans from over exertion with the dead demon and a hard on that wouldn’t go down. I actually felt like squealing.

Nothing, nothing I ever do these days is lost upon Angel. Even when he is bandaging the human, even when he is carrying her to the car, even when he is speaking soft words of comfort to her, he’s pissing himself about my predicament. Sometimes he gets that look on his face. It’s just a glance out of the corner of his eye. You’d really want him on video so you could wind it back a few times, just to make sure you really saw it. But it turns the mature, somber, broody git into the most childish, sneaky, ‘I’ve got one over on you’, school playground bully you’ve ever met. And that’s the look I saw him give me as I tried to climb over the door into the car. I actually thought I was going to pop. I desperately wanted the bint to faint or something and thankfully she did, in the back seat of the car. Oh blessed relief. I started to unbutton the front of the jeans, but they’d dried to a cement like solidness.

‘Shit, Angel, pull over and help me. I’m being crushed. It’s like a fucking vice in here. I’ll never father children, shit, I’ll never piss again.’

Faint snigger, ‘You don’t and can’t do either of those anyway.’

‘Angel…the leather was just for you anyway, and the fucking hard on, come to that, so pull over and help me. Now! Or I’m telling you, there’ll be no interesting parts of Spike left to stick into Angel ever again. Come on Mate, do the decent here. Stop laughing, please…look Angel, genuine tears here…and you know how difficult it is to get a Vampire to cry. PLEASE!’

Even with him helping, it took five minutes of useless struggle before we both came to the conclusion that we needed to take a more drastic approach to the Free Willy situation. Angel got out his large hunting knife and placed it teasingly over the buttons.

‘Fuck off Angel, not there for fuck’s sake, at the side, slit up the leg, not there you wuss!’

‘No, I’m sure it ought to be here Spike. This is an emergency, we need to act quickly. I’ll just slash up here and you’ll be free.’

He could hardly hold the knife for laughing, so I took it from him and slashed down my thighs on both sides. Wasn’t too careful either and cut deep gashes in both legs, but oh…the relief. I leant back in the seat with the blissful feel of my cock being given all the space it needed, with the feel of my balls rolling and relaxing in a world of space. I hadn’t counted on the effect that the now slashed leather, soaked with my blood and with my prick sticking up through the mess would have on my tormentor. He went completely wild. I must admit, I did look a bit like something that gets left over after a biker orgy. Guess if that’s what turns you on, it just does. He fell on me, licking up the blood seeping out of the two knife cuts. From one leg to the other, licking his tongue over my swollen cock as he passed over. Brushing blood from his tongue onto the soft, bright red tip as he moved, moaning in delight at all his favorite tastes in one place. When the bleeding stopped he was free to concentrate on my cock. He took it down to the back of his throat in one swift move. I gasped and arched into him. This was the most erotic thing we had done in days: I had my hero on my cock. I had my hero so desperate for me he was almost crying in frustration at not being able to get any more of me. No way was I going to let this drag on, I wanted hard and fast, I wanted relief, I wanted to think of my cum cascading down Angels’ throat, I wanted him back in the apartment, I wanted to fuck him again till he was screaming my name. I let go. I let the tingling in my balls build to that explosive and necessary rush of pleasure. I felt my cold seed leaving my balls, felt it moving up my thick shaft, felt Angel’s lips tightening as he felt this imminent flood too, felt his hands tighten on my hips, my fingers dip deeper into his hair and then together we rode out my orgasm. Together we rocked and thrust and moaned and bit our lips to stop from screaming out our delight.

He kept his lips over me longer than usual. He licked softly at the tip almost as if in hopes that he could coax another few drops from me, he made light frissons of delight run down my spine, he played with my foreskin with his tongue, finally he pulled away and sat back against his side of the car. I pulled my duster closed around me in lieu of any cover from my by now totally shredded pants.

We just looked at each other.

That had been good, even for us.

He smiled at me with that sneaky look again. He liked being my hero, I could see that. I narrowed my eyes at him and pouted a bit. That was to tell him that if he was going to be my hero, I wanted heroic wherever and whenever I demanded it. He got the message and stuck out his tongue slightly which in our coded language meant, ‘fuck you, I’ll do what I like cus I’m your Sire’. We carried on this silent conversation for a while, my foot resting lightly in his lap, not doing too much cus Docs ain’t good for foot sex. Didn't take him long to remedy that though. He slowly unlaced my boot and dragged it off my foot. He pressed my cold bare foot hard into his erection so I could feel it though his pants. We just stared at each other, he gave a slightly evil grin and when I flicked up my scarred eyebrow he slowly unzipped his pants and moved my foot inside.

It wasn't the most elegant way to bring him off, but he didn’t seem to mind. There was more kicking and pressing and rubbing than finesse in the moves, but again, he didn't seem to mind. He actually seemed to get off on the whole process of my toes scraping on his soft tip and my heel grinding into his balls. Course, he was hard as fuck anyway, and ready to pop, so I don’t take all the credit for the explosive stream of cum he shot over my foot. His face was a picture as I casually laced back up my boot.

'Ugh…Spike, that's disgusting.' Oh, yeah, like sucking my cock ain't disgusting, like being footed by me ain't disgusting but the ponce is bothered about me putting back on me boot with a cum sticky foot.

'Angel, get a life. No one's watching.'

We both then kind of had the same thought at the same time. I saw him going distinctly paler. I saw his whole persona withdraw from me and the person he is with me, to the person he is with other people. Cus we both realized at the same time, we did indeed have another person in the car. I saw him go rigid with that, ‘please let her be still unconscious’, look crossing his mind. We turned together to look.

Well, I guess I was wrong when I said that if she thought about dating again she’d be picturing Angel in her fantasies. Don’t think she will be now somehow.

We drove meekly back to the apartment after dropping her off at her parents’ house. We didn’t stay for tea and toast and medals, funny that...can’t think why.

But it’s my job to get Angel over these little catastrophes of life. He takes them much too much to heart for my liking. I tried to entice him down to the shower, which even he had to admit, I needed. But he wanted time to collect himself in the office; he wanted time to sort through the paperwork. Like fuck he did, he wanted to brood and feel small and ashamed for being watched, giving me a blowjob and having his cock brought off by his lover’s foot. I know all this cus I can hear it faintly in me head now. I swear I hear his thoughts, when we are close like this. If he goes too far away, I lose it, but when he’s just upstairs...brood boy ain’t got any secrets from me! Well, if he needs the space, I’ll give it to him. Don’t matter to me; I’ll have him in a few minutes anyway. Fact, gives me more to work on when he’s like this, the more depressed and broody he gets, the more contrast it is when I have him screaming and laughing and crying for me. And I do want the shower cus all of me is now covered in demon blood, my blood, quite a lot of my cum and one foot with some of his.

God, I love American showers. This is the bloody bollocks this is. I turn, slowly letting the scalding hot water cascade over my cold body. I vigorously shampoo my hair with one of Angel’s poofy smelling substances. He’ll love that. Nothing turns him on more than smelling my freshly washed hair. The cuts are almost healed now, no marks at all to show I was fighting for my life with a huge fucking demon only an hour or so ago. I reach over and turn on the radio I insisted Angel install in the shower. Putting my forehead on the wall I let myself drift for a while, just me, the music and the water.

I’ve come a long way I think.

Cus I do remember being in this shower not so long ago, being here with other cuts, other pain. Pain in my heart so deep I’m still surprised I survived it. But there was Angel of course, Angel saved me and brought me here to this moment in time, when I have everything I have ever needed out of life. It all seems so long ago somehow and yet it’s only been a few weeks. The dying, the coming back to life through Angel’s love for me, the Initiative, Riley and the others, Buffy giving me her life’s blood, Daisy, the money, the apartments and then, of course, England. Even that holiday seems so long ago. Did I really make my poofy, LA, cashmere-clad Sire climb up a Tor in freezing sleet? Oh yeah. Did I really suck his blood through a bite in his ass? Oh yeah, did that too. You get in trouble for shit like that in Vampire Lore. Did we give a shit? Nah, I just bit and did it.

So yeah, I’m feeling real good about unlife right about now. Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised when I stepped out of the shower expecting to find Angel waiting for me, recovered and in a better mood in the living room, to find soldier boy there instead. Standing looking around and looking at me. As I said, unlife can just come and kick you in the bollocks sometimes.

I've lived with this chip long enough not to fight it all the time now. I know there is nothing I can do to him, so I sit on the couch. I adjust the towel around my waist more securely, it feels like I’m protecting myself...pretty pathetic protection but it’s all I’ve got at the moment. Well, that and a very vicious, Master Vampire who loves me almost within screaming distance. Except funny that, I can’t actually hear him now. Maybe he went out.

So I just sit there and look at Action Man. He looks older, more worn, as if jungle life didn’t agree with him or maybe the evil under the surface is beginning to show. Maybe he can’t hide it any longer.

‘Hostile 17. Nice to see you again. Very nice little set up you’ve got here isn’t it?’ I think that’s something called a rhetorical question...what do I know, I’m just an ignorant Vampire. So I keep quiet.

‘Graham had a very interesting chat with Buffy when I was away. Seems you had a little friend come and rescue you, you faggot. Never put you as one of those Spike...thought you went for pretty blond girls that belong to someone else. Living here, all shacked up with your boyfriend then...you’re pathetic.’

‘Yeah? Don’t think you’ll think that when you meet him Mate.’

‘Oh, I just did. Was this him?’

He opens his hand and a sprinkling of dust falls out to the floor.

He’s pathetic.

As if I’m gonna fall for that shit. As if he, killed Angel. Angel who has lived more lifetimes than he could imagine, Angel who has killed more than a small war can achieve. Angel being dusted by this pathetic fuck-up...yeah, really gonna fall for that.

‘Try again Mate, that ain’t even gonna get a rise from me. What, you crept up on him as he was asleep at his desk did ya? Go on, tell me how you managed to kill the Scourge of Europe. I’m riveted.’

‘Didn’t have to creep anywhere Spike. He just got a little distracted. Funny that. Only a tiny thing. Look, really small, but when I showed it to him he just went all funny, seemed to me he sort of fell on the stake himself then, but you know him better of course, you’ve been fucking him, after all.’

He flips something through the air at me. It catches the light as it comes in a soft, slow arc. Seems to me it takes forever to get to me, but I don’t want it any quicker. Cus I know what it is. I don’t catch it cus that would make all this, real. I let it fall to the floor at my bare feet and watch as it rolls over and over.

It’s my ring. Angel’s ring. The one I lied about and told him I still had safe. Seems it didn’t come off in the accident, seems it wasn’t knocked off by the impact with the 4-tonners, seems someone took it off me when I was unconscious. Seems soldier boy wanted a souvenir. Better than spinal columns I guess. And I can just see Angel’s face now when he saw it. I can put myself into him and feel what he felt when he thought I was dead, cus that’s what I feel now...oh yeah, he’d have been distracted all right. He’d have run at that stake.

‘What do you reckon Spike? Told your boyfriend I’d just staked you and...oh, look what I found in the dust!’

Where do I go from here? What do I do? Suddenly I hear the sound of gears straining, the high pitched sound of a creature in pain and realise it's coming from me. I'm moving before the ring has even stopped spinning on the floor. I want to go with Angel and Riley's my best hope of that.

He wants to stake me too, but unfortunately, not with something wooden. As I collide with him the chip's power in my brain sends me to my knees in agony.

But I don't really care, cus I'm not here, I'm with Angel wherever he is and I refuse to believe he's in hell. I think he's in a place just for him. Maybe he's back on the moors, high up where the wind will drown out the sound of my screaming, cus I don't want him to hear that. He'd be upset hearing this and not being able to help me. There are no ghosts allowed on the high moors, there the stripping wind deafens all sounds save the roar. But I can see him there now, in my mind as my mouth is raped by this monster. He's standing proud on the top of the Tor, his arms spread wide to the earth below him. He's found his release after all; his redemption and I know he is happy at last, no guilt, and no pain.

And I hope he doesn’t remember me cus I don't want him to be in pain like this. This is too much pain to bear, so I'm saying now, please Angel, don't remember me where you have gone. Far better that you forget me and smile than that you remember and be sad. Let me do the remembering, I'll do it for both of us. For the very short time I have left now. If he doesn't fuck me to death, I'll make him stake me or fry my brain trying. But I'm sorry Luv, I can't come with you to the silent land, cus I've been judged and found wanting. I won't be with you on the high moors cus I'm evil apparently. I'm not fit to enter the Kingdom, however much I love you. I am damned. And maybe this is my hell, to be here, endlessly hearing of your death, each time quite new and awful, endlessly having this filthy cock thrust into my face, endlessly missing you. We have been parted now beyond even my ability to remedy. There is nothing I can do.

I wish I could know how you really are Angel. Don't be hungry, don't be cold there Luv, on the high moors. Maybe you will become a being of light and air, living beyond the substantial realm. Maybe you'll become a colour for me Pet, then I could think of you spreading over my land that I miss more almost than I love you, but never told you cus I do love you more and want to be with you.

But please Angel, most of all, don't remember me cus I'm not worth one moment of your unhappiness. Don't remember me: be free, Luv.

He finishes with my mouth, his hot, salty, thick cum dribbles out past my bleeding, torn lips. Won't swallow this. I remember cold cum that made me hard to taste it and want more. Don’t want this. Let it out, but oh, please someone, switch off that screaming cus Angel is asleep and I don't want him woken. He hasn’t had sleep this deep and dreamless in all his sad, lonely life. He's free now to sleep without the guilt, so please, stop the painful screams that tear at my soulless heart and if it's me, stake me before I disturb him. He mustn't hear me cus he's my Sire and he'd want to be here and hold me and love me, but he can't cross back now, he's in the silent land and he can no longer take my hand, nor turn to go, yet turning stay.

I wait now only for the feel of the stake and the passing from this place which is only pain to another place which, if it is only hell, will not be worse than this.

He takes a stake from his pocket. Oh, please let it be the same one as you used on Angel, I want that last remembrance of him.

He kicks me onto my back and I lie helpless and glad, welcoming this. This is finally it. His arm raises and he plunges the stake deep into my heart. An agony, red hot and endless pain sears through my body. I didn't know what I'm to expect. It seems a slow dusting. The monster grins at me and pulls it back out, twirling it through his fingers like a God-damned prom queen with a cane.

'Plastic, Spike, wood grain effect. Realistic, isn't it?'

I scoot backwards across the floor, demented. The gapping hole in my heart and chest pumps a sticky trail onto Angel's precious wooden floor. I'm sorry Luv, I'll try to be more careful. I know how you love this apartment. I can't get my breath which I don't need anyway. But I feel I need it now and can't get it. He's gleeful and his obvious delight in that little trick seems to have made him hard again. He stands thoughtfully stroking himself, considering me.

Well, this is expected. I just knew I had way to go before I'd be released from this fucking life. Oh yeah, hell's gonna be a piece of piss after this. An eternity of piss.

He comes towards me. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can't raise one small finger to stop him without being electrocuted through my brain.

I curl into a small ball and go back to be with Angel for one last time. He's looking so fine too. I don't let him see me cus I know, looking at him, he has forgotten me…and that's good. The Powers That Be have finally come through for him; he's unburdened by thoughts and memories of our time together. He can't remember how he saved me from a hell of my own making, doesn’t remember how we came to be more than life to each other. He looks happy. He looks almost human, he looks content, and so I am content too.

This doesn't matter, the feel of his fingers in my ass, so recently penetrated by strong, cold loving fingers. This warm human cock, pushing into me don't matter, cus Angel is happy and Angel doesn't remember me.

This thrusting and tearing and blood don't matter either. The screaming in my head is so loud I can't hear his grunts as he uses my body for this endless seeking to be a real man. He ain't gonna find his manhood in my ass, he tried before and it wasn't there, he was still a prick in green, no matter how much he stuck it to me.

I can't hear him, but I do hear the whir of the lift coming down. I do hear light, female chatter.

Cordelia and Wesley step out of the lift. Back from their very long, all afternoon and most of the evening, raise-party. Was that only a few hours ago I was teasing Angel with my ass over the desk? I'm glad I did that. Glad he went happy, wanting me.

'What the bloody hell is going on here? Spike? Get off him, you! Now!'

'What are you going to do? Make me? I don't remember you doing much last time buddy, so I don't think you're going to do anything to stop me.' He continues his pounding into me but he's lost his concentration now, he's going soft.

'Maybe he won't, but I will.'

I turn my head to see Cordelia aiming one of Angel's crossbows directly at soldier boy.

He turns to look at her.

'You don’t have the balls girlie.'

He shouldn’t have said that cus that's Cordelia and she's got more balls than him probably. She shoots him through the neck.

I think he dies instantly; it's hard for me to tell cus his cock was still in me anyway. I had to pull off it. It would have been embarrassing, but I'm far beyond that now. But oh, Cordy, I wanted that bolt for myself. But, as I'm planning on going by my own hand, I look over to the two humans Angel loved best in this world.

I watch their faces as I get to my feet and pick up the towel I dropped. I sit on the couch.

'Spike, you'd better not tell Angel too much about this…he's liable to lose it completely…you know how he is about you.'

Good advice Cordelia. But of course, they don't know do they? How can I say these words? If I say them, don't that make it true?

'He's dead. Angel is dead.'

'Well, duh! We know that, but that seems to be a technicality with you Vampires and your passions…' She's walking over to the body, she's not even phased by it. Cool. Collected. Good girl.

'Cordelia, no, listen…Angel's…Angel's…gone. He…' I point to the body she is pushing with her toe…'he got to Angel before he came down here to me.'

Cordelia staggers and I catch her before she falls. I've taken over one of Angel's roles already. He's only been gone less than an hour. Wesley takes off his glasses and starts rubbing them violently on his shirt, blinking rapidly.

'Are you sure Spike? How do you know? You only have his word for it…he's not the most reliable…oh God, Spike, how can it be true. Angel was so strong, so fast. How?'

'He told Angel I was dead, showed him proof. Angel got a bit…distracted.'

I'm too busy now helping a sobbing Cordelia and a distraught Wesley to think about getting that real stake from the git's pocket. I can't just leave them too. I'm all they've got now and Angel loved them. He'd want me to look after them. At least that bloody screaming has stopped. I'm too busy being strong.

So much to think about though. Can't let Cordelia go down for this. Got to get rid of the body, even if I have to eat it. Angel wouldn’t want any harm coming to Cordelia.

And what Angel wants…wanted…is all I care about now. I told him I'd tidy up his place before I go, and I will. I'll take care of these two till they're okay, I'll sort stuff. But it's getting very hard to think, now. I seem to be…not here quite. Why am I feeling faint? I'm a demon for fuck's sake, I can't feel faint, but shit, I'm bleeding out all over the couch and the floor and Cordelia and Wesley and there is a river of blood leaving me.

Guess I won't have to stake myself, my blood will betray me again. I stand, helping Cordelia to her feet.

'Come on, Pet. Let's go somewhere else, away from that thing. Wesley, come on, Mate. We'll go to my place.'

With an arm round Cordelia's waist and pulling on Wesley's arm I try to get them to the stairs.

'Come on, you can't stay here. There's too much blood and pain here. Come on guys, I can't do this alone, please, Angel wouldn't want us here now. I need to do what Angel would want.'

I don't even realize I'm dressed only in a blood-soaked towel. They don't tell me, there's just too much grief for shit like that. I get them to the stairs, but can't help but cast one last look back at that human who was so much less than me, but who may now be in a place I'll never be allowed to go. Don't seem fair somehow. But I'm so faint now, I can't see him anyway. I can hardly see at all. No blood left. Never going to make it to my place. I've failed Angel at the last.

I try to mount the stairs, but something is in my way.

All I see is blackness.

Something hard and black, but something holding me. Something talking, something taking over. Something carrying me.

Someone carrying me to the bed.

And that someone is Angel.

I have passed over. I am with him and this is not hell. Nowhere with Angel in it, could be hell.

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