Demonic Past Revealed

022908

Disclaimer: I own Mike but not Spike although owning both of them would be fun.

Summary: Questions are answered.

Reviews: Yes please. Encouraged, craved and cherished. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!!!!

A/N: Yes, it's another chapter! Don't y'all fall over from the shock of it now.

Many of the ideas for this chapter were in the initial conversations with WayWard Childe at the beginning of this fic so much of the credit for content goes to him. Thanks for the input, Partner!

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Mike watched, unable to move for reasons he couldn't name, as the shock swept through his uncle's frail body. Spike slipped to the floor as if his legs could no longer support his weight. He pulled his knees up to his chest and the two-toned head fell forward onto them. Slender shoulders heaved, once and then once more before falling still again. Finally, Spike looked back up at the waiting young man.

"But… but Angelus told me… he took malicious delight in…" He gulped and rubbed away a tear from his face. "He described in great detail what he did to the little girl he found in my house." His voice faded as he finished the sentence and his blue eyes sought Mike's gaze pleadingly.

"No." Mike finally regained his mobility and rushed forward to squat next to the vampire. "My God, Uncle Will, that wasn't Emily. It was Erin, the housekeeper's daughter. Remember? She was Emily's best friend. She was there helping her mother clean the house that day. They were still there when the night fell and…" He stopped for a moment as Spike's eyes widened.

"Erin." He breathed. "I remember her. She was Emmy's age." The blue eyes were distant as he fought to pull up memories of a time he'd tried for decades to forget. "She… she had black hair and… and green eyes." His hand shot out with vampiric speed and grasped Mike's wrist. "Emmy lived? She really lived? How?"

Mike settled on the floor, sitting cross-legged, facing Spike and allowed the shaken immortal to retain his grip on his arm. Instead of trying to free himself, he gently covered the cool fingers - that were not quite painful on his wrist - with his own warm hand, idly noticing the similarities between the two. Long elegant fingers with squarish fingernails, slender palms and bony wrists, the major difference was in skin tone. Mike's own hand was lightly tanned while Spike's was very pale, nearly translucent, his veins visible. "I don't know what happened to Grandmother Anne. Grammy Em was never able to find out..." Again the reaction from his ancestor caused him to pause in what he was saying. Spike had flinched hard and hidden his face in his knees again. The hand still grasping the human's wrist tightened until it was difficult for Mike to control the wince. "What is it?" He asked Spike quietly. The vampire mumbled something into his legs. Mike frowned, puzzled. "What did you say?"

Spike raised his head, face turned away from Mike, grief and shame written on the finely boned features. "I said, 'I killed her'." His accented voice was still very quiet but the words rang out as if they'd been shouted.

The younger man stiffened in shock. "What? How? Why?" His fingers tightened on Spike's hand as the vampire tried to pull away. "Stop fighting, you're gonna hurt me and hurt yourself in return. Just tell me what happened." His tone brooked no argument.

Spike sniffed, his free arm tightened around his legs. He rested his head on his knees, face turned towards Mike this time, his blue eyes dull and saddened. "Did you know Mum was ill?" His voice had softened into the more refined accent of his human life. Mike nodded but otherwise remained silent. "I was strong, confident for the first time in my life. A whole new world had opened up to me. No one messed with me. I was immortal." He grimaced at his own youthful arrogance. "I wanted to make Mother better. I wanted to show her my new world, travel with her and keep her with me forever. I… I…" He stopped and gulped a few times. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I turned her into a vampire."

"God." Mike breathed, shock suffusing the soft sound.

Spike shook his head and inhaled deeply. "He had nothing to do with it. Something went wrong. She wasn't like me. I still felt like me, you know? Me but better. I wanted that for her." His soft voice pleaded for understanding. "But she was different. She was cruel. She said things… horrible, nasty things. That thing was not my mother." Tears began to run freely down the thin face that rested sideways on sweatpants clad knees. "I had to stake her." The confession rushed out and he quickly turned away from the hatred he knew he'd see in the face so like his own. He braced for the torrent of angry condemnation. What he actually heard shocked him badly. He heard the sound of denim rasping on the concrete as the man shifted on the floor, he felt the hand grasping his own tighten again as the arm Spike still held moved to wrap around upraised knees and then he heard a soft, barely muffled sob. He turned his face back towards his nephew, stunned. Mike had shifted until he mirrored Spike's position but next to the vampire rather than in front of him, his burgundy head bowed over his upraised knees, his shoulders shaking as he wept.

Spike reached his free hand over and let it hover over the dyed curls for a moment before letting it flutter uselessly back down to his own leg. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to… I wanted…"

Mike caught his breath in an attempt to cease his sobbing. He shook his head causing Spike to frown. He inhaled and raised his head, tears still streaming down his sharp cheekbones. "No. Don't apologize. You couldn't have known. She wasn't the one who was different. You were."

Spike nodded sadly keeping his eyes downcast. "Yeah, I know. I figured that out… later."

Mike took his hand off the cool one still wrapped around his arm and wiped at his face. He cleared his throat but when he spoke the words were still husky with emotion. "Grammy Em went to live with your Aunt Jane three months before…" He paused for a second to compose himself again, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Before I died." Spike finished it for him and Mike nodded.

"But no one knew that. There were no bodies. Both of you just… disappeared." Mike sighed. "Remember when Grandmother Anne started to really decline?"

Spike thought for a moment and then understanding dawned as he remembered. "Yes." He whispered. "Mother couldn't take care of Emmy and I'd been home from university just couple of months and was still trying to find a job. Emmy was only six and very active. It broke her heart to leave us, leave Erin. Broke my heart too, I didn't want her to go. But Aunt Jane had children who were a few years older but still were closer to her in age than I was." He smiled suddenly. "That's how Angelus missed her. Aunt Jane lived so far away and she was Mother's sister so her last name was different." His fingers tightened on Mike's arm again. "Is she still alive?" Because of the tone of the conversation, he forgot for a moment how very long it had been.

Mike's face dropped the smile that had begun to form when Spike had started to figure it out. He shook his head, sorrow clouding his blue/gray eyes. "She died ten years ago when I was ten." He murmured. "She was 116 years old."

"Fuck." There was awe in the single profanity and it struck Mike as funny. He snickered.

"Don't tell Mama but that's what Grammy Em said just before she died." His snickers morphed into full fledged laughter at the shock on his uncle's face.

"She said what?" Spike was incredulous.

Mike tried to control his chuckles. "Yeah, she lived with us, or rather, we lived with her. It was her house after all. She woke up one morning and didn't feel well so she stayed in bed. It wasn't something she did often but enough that we didn't think anything of it. She was very active for her age but she had her ups and downs. She must have known that this time was different though. I was home from school, summer vacation and all, so instead of going out and hanging around with my friends I stayed home to run errands for her and keep her company." Mike's eyes grew hazy as he recalled his last day with his favorite relative, the memory as clear as if it had been ten days rather than ten years. "She lived in the States for almost a hundred years but she never, ever lost her accent." He smiled. "On that last day, she kept me close, telling me stories of her big brother, Will."

He glanced at the wide-eyed vampire. "She idolized you. She absolutely loved that I'd been born on your birthday. It nearly devastated her when you and your mum disappeared. No one could ever tell her what happened to either of you and it haunted her. I'd walk in on her and she'd be looking out of the window as if waiting for you to come up the sidewalk for a visit. I don't think she ever quite gave up hope of seeing you again. Aunt Jane kept the other murders from her as long as possible but eventually she'd had to be told what had happened to Erin. I'd heard the stories all of my life but never, ever considered telling her to stop, I loved them and I loved listening to her talk. It was all old history, long past but she always spoke as if everything she told me was recent. Like I could go to London and meet everyone instead of all of them being dead and gone." He paused, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes briefly. "Well, not all ofthem." He corrected himself gazing seriously at Spike.

"But what in bloody hell would cause her to say that?" Spike quietly demanded.

Mike snickered again. "She was a beautiful woman, she carried that beauty all of her life. She always looked much younger than she actually was. When she realized that the end was near, to use a cliché, she looked me dead in the eye and said," He paused and then affected a higher tone of voice with a refined British accent. "Well fuck. I'm going to meet my maker and I didn't have the strength to curl my hair."

Spike shivered at hearing the nearly – although inadvertent – perfect imitation of his mother's voice. Mike raised an eyebrow at the involuntary motion, noting it for later and returned to his normal southern tinged baritone. "That was the one and only time I ever heard her cuss." He laughed again but this time tears accompanied the laughter and after a second of surprise, Spike joined him.

After a few minutes, when the laughing died down to a few soggy chuckles, Mike inhaled. He continued his story, voice husky with grief. "She died about an hour after that. She hugged me, ran her fingers through my hair ever so gently, told me she loved me and then just closed her eyes. I thought she was napping so I tip-toed out and left her in peace. I was ten, what did I know, right? It wasn't until Mama went in later to see if she wanted supper that we knew she was gone." More tears trickled down the human's face. "She was my best friend. I adored her and I miss her every… single… day." His tear filled blue/gray eyes met equally full sapphire ones. "Just like she missed you… every… single… day."

Spike nodded. His face tightened and he dried it with his free hand, the other still clasped securely, forgotten, around his nephew's wrist. His voice was hushed as he spoke. "Tell me about… about you and that place."

"At first… I didn't know who you were. I just knew that I hated what they were doing to you and the rest of the beings they had caged up in there. I wanted out." Mike sighed deeply and wiped his face. "I used to listen to you after… after… when you'd be asleep… recovering. You'd talk. You'd ask for Joyce and home and then… then one night you cried for Emmy and I knew. I'm not sure how I did but I knew. You had my face, you knew my Grammy and I knew what you were. I didn't know how or why but you were family. Once I realized who you were and that you were a vampire, I wanted to get you out but didn't know how. Then they let you escape and I heard Finn and some of the others gloating about how well the chip was working. They were thrilled that you were starving."

Mike's husky voice took on a vicious note and his fists clenched, the muscles of his arm tensing under Spike's hand. "I had to cover it but I wanted to pound them all for the way they were talking. I wanted to go in there, tear open their heads with my bare hands and put chips in them. Let their brains get fried when they tried to eat. I hated them. I wanted to make them suffer for hurting my family. But I couldn't. I had to pretend nothing was wrong." Bitterness tainted the southern accent. "No one suspected a thing, I'm that good. But I had to be a good little soldier boy and go out to search for you. Then the guys started dying. A vampire was systematically draining the men who were out looking for you. I was praying the chip had failed and that it was you doing it."

He paused and tilted his head in a gesture Spike recognized as his own. "Is that evil? To hope that a vampire could kill?" He shrugged and sighed again. "But it wasn't you, it was Miss Drusilla. She found me out on patrol. She was killing everyone else and I honestly thought I was dead but she just sniffed my neck, put me in some sort of thrall and took me with her." He stopped, unsure of what else to tell the vampire.

Spike nodded thoughtfully and gazed silently at the far wall of the basement. Something the boy had said earlier came back to him. He blinked and brought his gaze back to the redhead. "Wait… back up… you were born on my birthday?"

Mike gave a sheepish smile. "Yup." He admitted. "Grammy Em wanted to name me 'William' because of it but Mama put her foot down although she did compromise by making my middle name 'Adler'. That was one of Grammy's iron clad rules; at least one male in each generation to have 'William' and one with 'Adler' as part of their name."

"Thank God for Mama is all I can say for you. Growing up with 'William' as a name is no picnic." Spike muttered.

Mike snorted. "Ain't that the truth. There was a kid in my class named 'William'. I didn't make fun of him, Grammy would have kicked my ass, but a lot of the others did. Kids are just mean. I've never seen a demon as evil as some of the kids I went to school with." He shivered, the cold of the concrete floor seeping through his denim jeans. "She didn't tolerate anyone being cruel to anyone or anything. She was the original peacemaker. Everyone was equal in her eyes."

Spike noticed the shiver. "Are you cold?"

The human shook his head. "Nah, warm as toast." He deadpanned. "But I am hungry."

A startled laugh burst from the Brit. "Guess the Slayer should put a heater in here. Gotta keep you humans healthy. Sick ones taste just awful." He frowned. "Dru would kick my ass if I let you get sick." He gave the wrist he finally realized he was still holding a little squeeze, let go of it and got ready to get up.

Mike beat him to it, rising gracefully to his sneaker-shod feet and extending his hand to his uncle. "Come on, old man."

Spike grabbed the helping hand and let himself get hauled up from the floor before the men separated. "Old man? Old man? I am not old! You do realize that I'm a vampire, right? Not only can I …" He was interrupted before he could really get his tirade going.

"You're one hundred and forty five years old, all totaled, and I don't care how you count it, that's freakin' old!" Mike's blue/gray eyes sparkled with the joy of having found his Grammy's beloved, much mourned brother. Happy that is his secret was out, to the one person that mattered at least. "But to be fair, there is furniture back home that's a little older than you are."

Spike glared at the human. "Disrespectful brat." He grumbled.

"Taught by the best, my Grammy, who – I'm told – learned from your cousin Daniel." Mike agreed cheerfully.

A growl from the vampire earned an amused glance from the former soldier. "I guess you remember him." Mike commented with a smirk.

"Yeah, he was the main reason I didn't want Emmy going to live there. He's one I wish I had gone back and eaten. He was a complete tosser." Spike snarled. His eyes flashed gold before shifting back to sapphire blue.

"I know. Grammy spent a lot of time growing up defending herself. She got really good at it." Mike's reminiscent smile and tone of voice reflected an enormous amount of respect for his grandmother's survival tactics. A thought occurred to him and he sobered slightly. "Do you want to tell the others? About how we're connected that is?" He nodded as Spike started to shake his head slowly. "Okay. What about your memory? You didn't tell me how much of it was missing. Are they all vampire memories or are the human ones affected too?"

Spike shuddered. "I don't know exactly what's missing. I have no reference points. I didn't want anyone to know. Just means I'm more of a mess than anyone thought."

"Maggie Walsh needs to burn in hell." Mike muttered, animosity in every syllable of the statement.

"That her name?" Spike asked quietly, grimly.

"Yeah." Nothing more seemed to be needed and they turned towards the stairs with identical twists of lean bodies.

Most of the way up, Mike stopped and grasped Spike's arm loosely. "Fuck, the door was open. Wonder how much they heard." He whispered

The vampire paused on the step above the human. "Don't know, mate. Guess we'll find out in a couple of minutes though." He answered, his tone as hushed as Mike's. He started to move again but Mike's fingers tightened and he stopped. "What?"

"Just that…" Mike took a moment to figure out how to say what he wanted without pissing off the still rather unstable demon. He gazed up at the wary blue eyes of his uncle and changed his mind about what he'd first meant to say. "Better let me go through the door first." An evil glint lit his blue/gray eyes and he raised his voice a bit. "Never know when Buffy will be stupid enough to stand behind it. Don't want to hit her with the door and get a migraine, do you?"

"Might be worth it." Spike replied, his voice raised as well.

Both of them snickered at the muffled, indignant "Hey!" that they heard through the slightly open doorway. Footsteps pattered away from the entry and they continued up the stairs, Mike now in the lead.

This time it was Spike grasping a bicep and halting their progress, barely more than two steps away from the door. "I don't know if I can do this." His voice was bare thread of sound. He could hear that there were several more humans present than when they had first fled downstairs.

Mike's eyes softened as he looked into the face so like the one he saw in the mirror every day. "Uncle Will." He began, his voice barely audible as well. "I will not let anything happen to you." He raised his hands to clasp slender shoulders securely. "Think I want to miss the expression on Mama's face when she gets her first look at you? She spent my entire life thanking God that I wasn't twins."

A smirk crossed Spike's face. "That could be fun."

"Yup." Mike agreed amicably as a matching smirk graced his own handsome features. He stepped down to the same level as the vampire, turned, slid one hand off the shoulder it lay on and slung the other arm around his uncle's shoulders companionably. "Wanna go practice on Buffy?"

"Even more fun." The vampire purred as they ascended the last few steps so Mike could push the door all the way open.

TBC