Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Don't own the boys.
Warnings: Bitter sweet, friendship, short, un-beta'd
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kind of A/S
Author's Notes: One of those 'it came to be in the bathroom fics' you know when your mind floats. It's kind of sad, in happy sort of way i.e. bittersweet. So tell me what you think. I hope it isn't too confusing to follow.
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Year 1880
He looked over at young William, the fledge still green. He couldn't help but admire the beauty and power. Perfectly aged blood already coursed through the young one's veins. And he belonged to him.
"William." Angelus began, "Yer meh childe and as such that requires me to have certain obligations and responsibilities tewards yeh. One of which is me protecting yeh. Always. Yeh understand William."
The boy furrowed, "I'm not sure Sire."
Angelus sighed, "If ever somet'ing happens William. If ever yeh need me. I will always be there for yeh. No matter what."
"Always?" William asked, cocking his head endearingly. Angelus nodded.
xx
He had never told anyone he did it. Didn't see any reason in doing so. The minute he escaped from that hell on earth he ran to LA. To his Sire and the protection and safety he offered. He imagined he was a rather pitiful sight; standing dripping on the doorstep after one of LA's odd rain storms. He was met though, with no hesitation.
Angel tore the paper off and recapped his pen, "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"
Spike took the check, looking down at the generous amount, "I'm sure." he said quietly.
"You know I--" Angel began.
"Yeah," Spike smiled, "I know." Angel smiled back and dropped a light kiss on his boy's forehead ushering him away.
He had never told anyone that he was told to do it. Didn't see any reason in doing so. Angel, somehow, through the vamp grape vine, had heard what had happened with Drusilla and without a moments hesitation called up a familiar phone number that only he and a select few knew existed.
"I'm not in Sunnydale anymore." Angel had said.
"Oh?" it was a light neutral response, but Spike knew there was a request coming.
"A favour?" Angel asked.
"'Spose." he replied.
"Go there, for me please? Do what I can't any longer? I'll... feel safer, knowing you're looking out for them." Angel explained.
"Yar, yar." Spike waved it off, "They ain't gonna know it though. Don't wanna go and sully me reputation."
"Wouldn't dream of asking such a thing." the blond could hear the smile in his Sire's voice.
"You know I--" Spike began.
"Yeah, I know." the line went dead.
He had never told anyone that the older vampire would sense it. Didn't see any reason in doing so. But the moment Angel had, Spike saw him in the basement and it wasn't the mirage of the first. It was the real thing. He had been drawn into faintly warm, hard, comforting Sire-arms. Whispered assurances had been mumbled in his ear in a smattering of languages. That is what had pulled him through.
"My Sweet Childe." Angel had whispered, "I'm so proud of you."
"Told ya I'd do it one day." Spike had whispered back in his semi-lucid state, "Willy ain't a bad man no more."
"No." Angel agreed, "Sweet Will is one of the best men I know."
"Spike's bad." he said.
"Shh. Hush now Little one." Angel comforted, "You know I--"
"Yea."
He had never told anyone how much that little talk had meant to him. Didn't see any reason in doing so. His hands were numb and icy, the dead blood fighting to creep back into the dead veins and a dark, comforting figure stood over him.
"I thought I nearly lost you." Angel whispered.
"Piffle." Spike had snorted, "Ain't gonna get rid o' me that easily."
Angel smiled shakily, "Course. Why did I even imagine such a thing?"
Spike looked up, his eyes soulful, "Angel... You know I--"
"Yeah." Angel nodded, "Hush now."
They had never told anyone what had transpired between them that long night on the plane. Didn't see any reason in doing so. Didn't see anyone left who would even care. One insignificant, tiny alcohol bottle after another. Cursing vampire constitution and cursing their own inabilities.
"Why do you think it is?" Angel had asked, holding up a tiny bottle of Irish Whiskey.
Spike snorted, throwing his tiny bottle of vodka across the small cabin, "Dunno Luv. Maybe it just weren't meant to be, ya know?"
"God I loved that girl." Angel rested his head against the seat, "She was so... innocent and so damn smart!"
"She was a peach." Spike smiled, "Fell for her myself." Neither commented on the tears falling freely from each other's eyes.
"You know I--" they began together.
"Yeah." they answered together.
Staring out at the dilapidated remains of old central Hollywood, Spike and Angel stood together. Swords dripping with demon blood, cuts and bruises marring their bodies. Illyria had disappeared, taking Gunn's body with her. Connor had gone home and when the battle was done, the demon corpses shimmered into nothing. Their shoulders and hands brushed as they shifted, they took in each other's scents.
"Told you." Angel said.
"Wasn't I the one you told you?" Spike retorted.
"Me first. I win." Angel teased tiredly, to stop the tears.
"Always you first Luv." Spike shook his head, his own tears falling with no such restraint.
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Year 1882
He watched the strong powerful form, dark against the blazing fire in the hearth. He crept into the room, leaning against a high-backed chair, fingers fiddling with the upholstery. He nibbled his lip, eyes darting around the room.
"What is it Will?" Angelus asked without turning around.
"Sire?" he began hesitantly.
"Hmm?"
William cleared his throat, "I am your childe and as such you hold for me certain expectations. Such as obedience and gratitude. But as your childe, I also feel loyalty towards you, as is expected. I will always be there for you Angelus. If ever you need me." The lack of response made William uncomfortable and he quickly excused himself. Angelus just smiled into the flames.
The End
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