Home (A Spangel A~Z Ficlet)
Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)
Rating: T
Pairing: Spangel
Word Count: 742
Warnings: pinch of angst, character/relationship study, mentions of blood drinking, implied smut,
Summary: You’re never quite as far from home as you might think.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to either of them, really. They were both creatures of habit, in the end. They should have known that at some point the past would eventually come as near to full circle as it could.
The Whirlwind had been William’s first home after he lost his soul, after all, and Angelus’ last since he regained his. Angel could pretend all he wanted, surround himself with humans who would fight by his side, call him friend, maybe even consider him family. But they were never home. They weren’t capable of understanding him completely, no matter how they tried. They could never be the place where he could truly rest, be himself. With them, he was the hero. The leader. Champion.
Spike had tried to find a comparable place in the world, too. Might have found it with Dru, if she had been able to give back even a fraction of the passion and attention she demanded of him. He couldn’t find it with the Scoobies, that was for sure. They gave back even less than his Sire; only coming to him when they needed his information or the added muscle. Buffy had come close, if only in those final days before he burned for her, for the world that no longer seemed to hold a place for him. But by then, it was too late, too tainted. She could never be his home.
It wasn’t until long after Spike was spat back out into the world, months after he got his physical body back, that they finally realized what they should have known all along. The Whirlwind had never felt complete until Drusilla had brought young William to them, had stopped feeling so the very day Angelus left them for good. Stood to reason they had been the cornerstones. That they were what they had wound up spending a century blindly searching for again.
Had Angel taken the time to think on it, spent more than just those scant few hours on that submarine in the presence of his Grandchilde, gotten to see the truth of him, beyond the demon, they might have spent decades less feeling lost and alone, cut adrift from the peace they’d once felt, before the curse. If Angelus hadn’t gone mad after a century tormented by the soul, they might have ended their search seven years ago. Time and again they found themselves back in the other’s world, missing it completely. Each too caught up in their own ever-changing present to remember their entangled past, except for the missteps. Focused only on the hurt, the aggravation, and the villainy, instead of the thrill, the trust, the contentment. The almost-love, the closest their demons had found to it, anyway.
Now, it seemed so obvious. No longer separated by the soul, but brought back together by it, they finally saw with clear eyes. This was where they found their home. Home was in the passing of a mug of blood in the morning, in the brush of lips across a sharp cheek or pressed comfortingly against a furrowed brow. It was in how they became an unstoppable force against many an enemy, working together seamlessly to bring down even the biggest demons, their styles of attack complimenting each other like steps to a beautiful dance.
Home was in rough fingers made smooth as they caressed softly over bruised flesh, in the silky slide of a tongue over split skin, unable to resist the Siren call of family blood. Home was someone caring enough to take stock of every wound and ease away the ache from every throbbing muscle. It was firm assurances of ‘I’m okay’ before leading the other through the darkened penthouse, clothes shed along the way. As they wrapped themselves around each other. In the bed they shared, in the arms that wound around them, pulling them closer. In fingers gripping, digging, clawing, just right. In frenzied lips moving together in a perfect harmony that they thought they’d never feel again, in lithe planes and broad shoulders that tangled in a perfect symphony of give and take.
That was the home they had lost so many years ago, this was the home they finally found again just when they had given up hope of attaining it once more. This was the home they fought for, this was the home they just might die for, together. For what was home, without him?