All Demons Go To Hell

082608

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be.

Summary: The battle is on… who will win?

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: I know it has been an incredibly long time and interest in this fic has probably dropped to nothing but here's the next to last chapter… finally.

Special note: Many, many thanks to WayWard Childe for writing the nitty-gritty part of the fight for me. Without his help this story would still be in limbo. (bows to Master) I hope you are pleased. ;-)

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Spike paused and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. Keeping one eye on his off-balance Sire, he lit a cigarette with his antique silver Zippo, affecting an air of nonchalance as he slipped the pack and lighter back into his duster. The fact of the matter was that every sense was trained on the older vampire, gauging what his next move would be. Almost automatically, he began to catalogue the alley and what could be available to use as weapons. He wasn't interested in dusting his Sire except as a last resort. To tell the truth, he was simply looking forward to beating the unliving hell out of the older vampire.

The humans lining the alley watched silently as the blond vampire circled the area almost lazily. Only the ones from Sunnydale knew the deception. Spike finished his cigarette at the same time he finished his appraisal of the alley. There were security lights that did a surprisingly good job of lighting the area, shining down from the tops of the buildings. The dumpster was snugged securely against the brick wall of the bar. Several wooden pallets were stacked next to the huge metal box. On the other side there were a few bricks and several sharp lengths of rebar stacked against the wall. With a nasty grin Spike picked up one of the slender metal poles.

Angel regained his balance as his pissed-off childe began his tour. The larger vampire watched the blond quietly, ready for an attack. He wasn't certain he wanted to initiate the next phase of the fight since the younger demon had proven faster and stronger than expected. He tensed as Spike picked up a four foot length of rebar. His brown eyes scanned his own area for a weapon, carefully keeping the width of the alley between himself and his opponent.

There was an almost unnatural silence in the alley. The human audience was barely daring to breathe as they waited for one of the vampires to make a move on the other one. They all knew that a sound at the wrong moment would spell disaster and the wrong vampire would win. The question no one dared to voice was 'Which one was the wrong vampire?'

"Well, Peaches." Spike drawled as he began to twirl the rebar in his fingers like a baton. "Are you gonna call it off?"

"I don't know what you mean, Spike." Angel prevaricated as he tried to find his own weapon from the limited resources in the alley.

"Wrong answer." Spike growled. He jumped to the top of the closed dumpster. "Now, let's try this one more time." He watched the older vampire closely. "Call it off. I'm not going to tell you again."

Angel realized he couldn't bluff his way out of the fight, he hadn't really expected to but had considered it a worthy delaying tactic. He inched closer to the pile of rebar but retreated to the other side of the alley when Spike swung his weapon a little too close for comfort. His foot bumped something metallic and he glanced down at the clatter. A tiny smile of triumph crossed his face. "I have no reason to call a halt to my plans." He casually, keeping his eyes on Spike, reached down and grabbed up his own length of rebar.

Spike jumped down, his duster flaring out around him. He continued to twirl his pole as he strolled towards his sire. "You have a world of reasons, you moron." He stated. "Are you really that stupid as to think you can destroy evil? The Powers That Be sent me back here to stop you. That in itself should tell you that there's a lot wrong with your plans."

"That's because they're not aware off all my plans. They don't know what I've had to do to convince the enemy that I'm one of them." Angel sidled sideways as Spike approached, keeping a steady distance between them.

"Well, I'd say to did a little too good of a job there, Mate." Spike grinned humorlessly. "You not only convinced the bad guys but the good guys as well." His golden flecked blue eyes narrowed as he stalked his prey. "What does that say about you?"

"I'm still fighting for good. I'm still the champion." Angel protested. He raised his rebar in a defensive move.

The blond snorted derisively. "Yeah, right. That's why they hauled my less-than-thrilled ass out of Heaven to make sure you don't carry out those stupid plans of yours." He snarled. "I was finished, you idiot!"

Angel frowned. "You said that before. You're wrong. Vampires don't go to Heaven."

"They do when they sacrifice themselves to save the world, you git!" Spike interrupted furiously.

"They're damned the minute they're turned." Angel continued loftily as if Spike hadn't spoken. "All demons go to Hell. I should know I've been there."

"Yeah, well. They should have left you there. Would've saved me a trip." Enraged at being ignored, Spike swung his rebar towards Angel's head. Cursing, but not surprised, when the older vampire ducked.

"Is that the best you've got?" Angel taunted. He slid to the side trying to get an opening so he could end this stupid fight and get back to his plans. They would work, he was positive of it…. Wasn't he? He didn't want to dust Spike, he'd killed enough of his family and wasn't quite ready to add one more to the list. But if it came down to it, he would. Nothing, not even the youngest Childe of Angelus could be allowed to stand in the way of his plans to take down Wolfram and Hart once and for all. "What's the matter, Spike? Missing your hired help?"

"Not this time, Wanker. I don't need some psycho with pokers and classical music to kick your sorry ass." Spike jumped over the rebar that Angel had swiped towards his knees, swinging his own pole down to knock the weapon away. Angel cursed as he nearly lost his grip on the ridged metal. "That was just pathetic. Are you gonna fight or just ponce around?"

A frustrated sigh pushed its way through Angel's clenched teeth. Too far to retreat now, to re-think his plans, there was only one place to go for the fallen champion. Angel's eyes flared with gold, face shifted into the Angelus visage, hands starting to slide across the rebar until they became parallel, pale fingers tightening around the rusted make-shift quarterstaff.

Spike smirked and mimicked his sire's stance, "Now, that's more like it."

They clashed furiously, the hearts of their weapons locked, as they were held in inverted angles from each other. Their faces close enough to kiss, but they only sneered, belief in their individual actions all too evident.

They stand there locked with all their might, testing each other's strength, their belief.

"You…won't…win." Spike gritted, "Not this time." The resolve of Spike's words pierced Angel's core. Shocked, the older vampire almost believed him.

They separated with unrestrained force, both losing their footing, their game of will sent both soaring to opposite sides of the alley. It had been an alley where it had all started and now it would be an alley where their final battle takes place. A battle over 100 years in the making

They crashed into the brick, collapsed to the ground and then rose to their feet. Their battle is quick and too hard for the human eye to accurately register, but the clang of the ends of the rebar were heard all too well. They fell into a trance of striking and blocking, the rhythm finally broken when the younger vampire griped his weapon like a bat and swung hard and close. No time to defend, Angel growled with pain as the rebar slams into his ribs.

The older vampire was stuck hard, landed hard, with no time to retaliate or think as the former poet shifted above him and released a barrage of wildly swung blows being beaten into him. Spike, raising his weapon above his head for another blow, was caught by surprise when Angel pushed himself off the ground, spinning till he connected with an uppercut to the young vampire's jaw.

Spike stumbled back while Angel regained a fighting stance putting them back on equal terms, they don't even bother to relent for the usual barbs and quips. Too much was at stake after all, they're both trying to save the world. Angel landed a heavy haymaker that sent Spike down to the ground. The feral master vampire retaliated by straight kicking his sire in the midsection, once, twice, and attempts a third only to be caught this time. Angel grinned with satisfaction as he swung Spike and released, sending him flying head first into the front of the dumpster. The blond vampire crumbled and slid down the dumpster upon impact.

A shocked gasp escaped from the on-looking humans, none of them could see how badly the younger vampire was hurt. Wisely no one felt brave enough to go forward to offer assistance.

Angel couldn't relent, he knew if he did he'd be dead and this was a fact. So he leapt into the air and dove toward Spike, only for his wayward childe to bend both knees up to his chest and strike with a spring loaded double kick. The force of the blow cracked Angel's sternum and sent him flying back into the pile of bricks.

Anya, standing next to Buffy, couldn't resist the urge to whisper into the Slayer's ear. "Don't you love how flexible he is?" A startled glance was the only reply as they both turned their attention back to the battle.

Spike rose with lethal grace, he glanced around and spied the wooden crates, glancing back at his sire buried beneath the pile of bricks, the childe nodded as if to confirm something to himself. He violently kicked one of the crates to pieces and picked up a make-shift stake. His audience gasped but he ignored them as he stalked towards Angel. His hand was bleeding from the stake's splinters beneath his iron grip, he reached Angel and pulled his bloody and dust covered sire out of the pile by the lapels of his jacket. Raising the stake above his head steadily, he looked down at his former yoda, his sire, his friend, his rival and… he hesitated.

Quick to take advantage, Angel's eyes sprung open and he grabbed his childe's forearm, a new battle of belief and strength beginning to take place. Spike's might met Angel's determination and it led them to stand still. Angel's free hand searched for any advantage nearby, luckily for him there's a pile of bricks. Grabbing one, he smashed it into the side of Spike's head, sending him back and reopening his slayer's battle wound.

Lumbering to his feet, brick still clenched in his hand, he seemed to tower over Spike. "Give it up, boy." Angel sneered.

Wiping the blood away so it wouldn't ooze into his eye, Spike looked up at him with a hard stare and a sardonic smirk. "Not a chance, old man."

The younger vampire rolled backwards and sprang to his feet, stake still clutched in his hand. The two master vampires begin to circle each other slowly, all pretense and notion of who the other one is dropped. They only thing they see in each other is a goal that must be met.

Spike flung the stake at his sire's forehead, which Angel expectedly and expertly caught, giving Spike enough time to land a crushing blow to Angel's nose with his forearm. The younger vampire brought his knee up high, landing a blow on Angel's already cracked sternum. The older vampire grunted in pain and dropped his weapon; he almost doubled over but caught himself. Like a living sledgehammer Spike locked his fingers together, and bashed Angel in the back hard doubling him over anyway. Pulling back and giving himself distance, the wayward childe landed a roundhouse kick to his doubled over sire, sending him flying into the dumpster this time.

Bleeding from multiple wounds, Spike scooped up the stake at his feet. Without thinking or hesitation he rushed at Angel with supernatural speed… and drove the stake home.

TBC