Untitled Fic 1/?

[sevendeadlyfun]

A/N: This fic is unfinished, unbetad, uneverything. It's been boiling around my brain since I watched NFA forever ago. Some of this is canon, and Angel is too Spike's sire. "School Hard", it got said, no taking it back now. Not my fault some people couldn't handle the whole homoerotic implications of that. This is set immediately following NFA. This fic is Spike-centric. In fact, this is my version of the probably never going to happen Spike movie.

WARNINGS: It starts out tame, but will eventually be NC-17/X/Adults Only/Extremely Dirty. Warnings for bloodplay, kink, slight incestual attitudes, snarkage, slash,angst, first time fic writer and whole bunch of other fun things that haven't been written yet but probably will be soon. I'll update the warning as the tone changes. And to add the requisite disclaimer, I have no rights to Spike, Angel or any of the other Buffyverse characters, but I'll play with them anyways.

                                                Prologue

“…Let’s go to work,” Angel snarled. He could feel the heat beginning to rise in his belly, pounding in his head. His demon, never far from the surface, was roaring in his ears now. All his atonement meant less than a damn now. He knew with a grim certainty that he would see Hell again soon. Smiling, he promised himself that he would bring plenty of company with him. Just over his shoulder, his Childe was vibrating with a desperate glee. Spike had always abandoned himself to the brawl, fists and fangs in equal measure. Well, there was plenty to go around. With a whisper of thought, he bid good-bye to his beautiful boy and charged in.

Spike was right behind him, making his own sort of peace with the end. His thoughts were on his Sire, his evil Princess, and all the others he’d loved and lost. He always knew he’d die fighting, so that part wasn’t so worrying. It was not getting to kiss them good-bye, to tell them one last time that he loved them. Spike wondered if they’d ever know what happened here, to him, to Angel. Wondered if they’d even care and then he stopped thinking, gave himself over to the fury.

Angel had reached the dragon, mere seconds into the battle. Dodging flames, he thrust forward to lodge his sword in the belly of the beast. Whirling away to avoid being crushed, he saw Gunn fall. He’d known the man would never survive, had known that none of them would survive. Still, he felt a flicker of grief. He was amazed at that. He had thought he was beyond it now. All the betrayal, the pain, and still he could feel it choking him. Resolutely, he shut it down. He had to stop as many as he could and distraction would prevent that.

Suddenly, everything stopped.

                                 Blast From The Past

Spike was shocked when the Grathnar Demon he was grappling with stopped grappling. Spinning, his eyes met Angel’s and from the look on his face, Spike knew the Poof was just as clueless. Scanning the hordes in front of them, Spike saw that they were all still as statues. The last time he’d seen anything like this, it had been…

“Illyria!” Angel shouted, hoarse and furious. “What the hell are you doing?”

Spike, seizing the moment, strode over to stand next to Angel. God, what a pisser. Raining for shit, demon death everywhere, and still he felt the need to be close to someone he loved. I am, Spike thought, the biggest fucking ponce.

“Uh, Peaches? I really don’ think Blue had anything to do with this. Remember, big ray gun zap?” Spike mimed shooting a gun at Illyria, hoping to jog what few brain cells his Sire had left. Jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick, the bogtrotter could be thick sometimes.

“Oh, right. “ Angel furrowed his brow, looking around at various unmoving demons. “Well, then who or what the fuck did this?”

A soft voice from the shadows gave him his answer.

“I did…Da.”

Bleedin’ Christ! It was her. Spike figured if a vampire could simultaneously jump out his skin and die of a heart attack, he’d be a good candidate. Hadn’t seen her in what felt like a hundred years and still, he’d know her anywhere. Hmm, come to think on it, he mused, it had been over a hundred years. Hadn’t seen her since the night…the night and the pain…and shit, he was missing it! She was walking over, her face just as unchanged as his. The look in her eyes was the same, still shining and glorious, still on him.

“William…” She reached out a hand to touch him and then, retreated. Puzzled, he started to go towards her and remembered. He had told her and she had listened, finally listened, forever listened. “Spike,” she corrected and came closer, a small smile tilting the edges of her mouth.

“Julia,” he replied, voice thick. “What’s a nice girl like you doing at an apocalypse like this? Thought you din’t go in for this scene?” Sneaking a sideways glance, he saw Angel, mouth open, looking for all the world as he’d just been staked. Git! Their Lil’ One was back and he couldn’t even give’er a proper welcome? Wasn’t that just like him?

“I’ve come to help. The Powers…” and here she gestured helplessly, looking so much like the baby girl she used to be that he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, wha’ about the soddin’ Powers that like to screw with people? They finally decide to spare us a glance?”

“More than a glance, my sweet…Spike,” she replied, again correcting herself nervously. “The Seer gave Da a vision, one that was grossly misinterpreted, I might add.” All business now, she sent Angel a stern look, one that seemed to fix him in place.

“Little One, I…I…I did what…I thought that was what…” Angel was stammering now, thrown by the harshness in his beloved child’s eyes. He had failed, again. Shame roiled inside him, clogging his throat. He had tried so hard, given up so much, and to destroy it now, to have fucked up so irrevocably…

Crushed, he gave up the fight. Sinking to his knees, he stared at the ground. Soft hands encircled him, lifting his chin towards the sky.

“Stop, Da, just stop. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed, eventually. That’s why I’ve come. I’ll make it right again, for you…for all of you.” She turned her gaze to Spike, silently begging him to help.

Sighing, Spike leaned over and hauled Angel back to his feet. “What d’you need, pet?”

“Take care of him for me, I have to find my counterpart. After that, well…just don’t get in my way, okay? This is going to get ugly and I’d rather not have either of you hurt.” She was on her feet now, eyes flicking through the army, searching for…what exactly?

“Your counterpart, luv? And jus’ exactly what is your counterpart?”

“Well, you’d probably know him as the Liaison to the Senior Partners. He’ll be here somewhere, directing this mess.”

He could hear her, murmuring “Come out, come out, wherever you are”. Bloody wunnerful, vamp hearing. He felt Angel shuddering underneath his arms, and tore his gaze away from Julia to seek out the eyes of his Sire.

The devestation on Angel’s face was heart-wrenching, but what tore at Spike’s insides were his words. “All my fault…all my fault…all my fault…” The low keening vibrated them both as Spike began to rock Angel, hushing him with nonsense words of comfort.

“Ah! THERE you are!” Julia’s words of triumph split the silence like a thunderbolt, jolting both vampires out of their cocoon.

A slight man in a suit slid out from between two Fyarl demons caught mid-charge.

“Looking for me?” he asked smoothly.