ATS/BTVS - Spike/Angel(us) - Sick - Rated G
Title: Sick
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place during THE KILLER IN ME/Alternate ATS S4
Warnings: Spoiler for THE KILLER IN ME
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227
Word Count: 1,527
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
“Angel, you have to come. I can’t do anything for him and it’s just getting worse.”
The dark vampire closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he held the phone to his ear. He was listening to Buffy’s voice. The breathy mystified-little girl voice she always used with him when she was surprised to see him . . . or when she was trying to ask him for a favor, like now.
“He can take care of himself, Buffy. He doesn’t need me there.”
His boy had taken care of himself and Drusilla for a century. He could deal with this. Angel knew he had been through worse than this. Angelus had put him through more pain than this. He was not going to go up to Sunnydale and deal with one of Spike’s tricks.
“You don’t understand, Angel. The chip is going all wonky. It’s firing for no reason. He’s kind of acting like Drusilla,” Buffy’s little-girl voice urged.
Drusilla? No one can be that bad off. “This is different. I drove Drusilla systematically insane. I did not implant a chip in her head that turned her brain to mush whenever she thought of hurting someone.”
“Are you blaming me for Spike’s chip?” The hard edge that he remembered over the last couple of years was back in her voice.
“You were dating the soldier boy who was part of the group that put it in him. Then, you left it there for years. What did you expect would happen, Buffy? Did you expect him to survive with that chip for the rest of his existence?”
“He was a killer, Angel! I couldn’t let him roam the town unchecked. He has a soul now. He can be a good man.”
Oh God, Spike had a soul? What the hell possessed him to get a soul? Why would he even want one? Angel remembered Spike when he was still a fledgling. He was a good man then, without a soul. It was Angelus who turned him into a cunning and seductive predator. “I know what he was, Buffy. I taught him to be what he was. I taught him to survive and you and your boy wonder neutered him. So, you deal with it.”
“Angel, he needs you. Please. Come and help him,” Buffy’s voice pleaded with him over the phone.
Was it a good idea to go to Sunnydale, deal with the feelings that still lingered for Buffy to help Spike? What if it was one of Spike’s sympathy tricks? What if his boy was gravely injured? What if the chip misfiring had been a catalyst for his insanity? But, Spike has a soul now. He has a soul and he was in Sunnydale around people who didn’t understand what that meant when they never lost theirs before regaining it.
When Angel was about to give his answer he heard Spike yell in agony in the background. That did it. He was going. “I’m coming.”
Angel hung up the phone, grabbed his car keys and duster and ran out of the hotel. He jumped in the car and raced towards Sunnydale as fast as was legally possible to get away with. It still wasn’t fast enough. The whole time he was driving he kept hearing Spike’s agonized cry in his mind. He had to get there and help him. He had to finally stand up to family duty and obligation and help one of his own.
**************************
Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence
Angel pounded on the door harder than he intended. Any harder and his fist would have split the wood. He heard the muffled sound of someone coming to the door and then the click of the handle as it opened to reveal a frazzled Buffy.
“Thank God you’re here! I don’t know what else to do.”
She pulled him inside the house. Apparently she hadn’t revoked his invitation when he went through the doorway and didn’t hit a barrier. Angel let her drag him down the once familiar hallway to the basement door just off the kitchen.
“. . . We have a new Big Evil running around out there playing with our minds and it’s figured out how to play with Spike’s. But, that’s not our real problem at the moment. The real problem is that Spike’s chip has decided that now was the best time in the world to go haywire.”
As if on cue, Spike could be heard yelling in pain from the basement. Buffy cringed at the sound. She looked at Angel with apologetic and shamed eyes. Angel nodded and opened the door. They both went down to the lower level.
The second Angel touched the floor he walked briskly over to the cot and sat on the edge beside Spike. He reached out a hand and tentatively touched the younger vampire’s shoulder.
“Spike, are you in there?”
Spike shook his head to clear it and focused on Angel. His Sire was here? Why would Angel come here? He hadn’t cared about him in years and now he was here. Seeing Buffy in his peripheral vision, he understood how he got here but not why.
“Why are you here, Angel?”
“I got a call saying I was needed to help the hopeless,” Angel said half-joking with a slight smile.
“Not helpless, mate,” Spike groused.
“Hopeless, maybe, But never helpless,” Angel amended. “Want to tell me what’s been going on?”
“Don’t start with that Angel. This isn’t some family reunion where we play catch up and you stay for a few days just to leave again.”
Angel looked at Spike curiously. Spike thought he wanted to discuss old times? He only wanted to know what he was dealing with and to make sure it wasn’t one of Spike’s ploys. Before he could say anything, Spike continued, “You think because this chip in my head is misfiring that I’m too out of it to see what’s going on? Buffy called you here to deal with me because she’s stumped on what to do about it.”
He knew Buffy was standing by the stairs, but for once he decided to be blatantly honest. There was a time when he worried about hurting someone’s feelings by saying something. After the little ocean cruise he had this past summer he was past such niceties. They never worked in his world.
“Spike, the chip has got to come out. What they did to you was inhumane even for a soulless demon. Humans think they can play God when they try to modify any animal’s behavior. It needs to come out now, before it kills you.”
“I can’t kill again Angel. I won’t kill again. I have a soul now,” Spike’s voice was soft. There was little trace of the loud and obnoxious Spike he knew.
“So I heard. Any reason why you felt you needed a soul?”
“A girl, I didn’t want to hurt her anymore, wanted to give her something she deserved. Went to Africa and saw a demon mage.”
Angel’s lips quirked up. “Still love’s bitch after all these years, eh William?”
Spike snuffed at that. He would always be love’s bitch, he supposed. At that moment the chip decided to make its presence known and misfired again. Spike gripped his head in agony and roared through the pain.
Angel startled a bit and then hazarded a look in Buffy’s direction. Buffy shrugged and went upstairs to get the phone to call Riley. Once they were left alone, Angel shifted back on the cot and hugged Spike against him. He ran his fingers through the blonde curls at the crown and purred in his chest, trying to soothe Spike as best he could.
Spike had a death grip on Angel’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the throbbing pain in his head subsided. He was panting heavily. Angelus would have a field day if he ever witnessed this. Spike was sure of it. He heard Angel whisper ‘my boy’.
“Not your boy, Angel. I haven’t been for a long time. We hate each other remember? Which is why I can’t figure out why you’re here? You’ve ignored me for all these years.”
“You didn’t need me these past years. You can handle yourself. You’ve managed without me for a century before you came here. I’m only here to help if I can. We’re going to get that chip out of your head. I won’t see you slowly turning into Drusilla.”
Spike pulled away and leaned back against the concrete wall. “’m not crazy, Angel. God, you should have warned me what having a soul was like. I can feel every one of the lives I’ve taken. Granted I’m not as guilt-ridden as you. No one can be that riddled with guilt.”
“It takes time. It took me years before I learned to tune the voices out. Now, all I see are the faces of the people I’ve killed.”
“Still a work in progress, eh Peaches?”
“That it is. Darla once said the soul was a sickness, a cancer eating away at her from the inside.”
“Then I guess we’re both sick.”
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place during THE KILLER IN ME/Alternate ATS S4
Warnings: Spoiler for THE KILLER IN ME
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227
Word Count: 1,527
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
“Angel, you have to come. I can’t do anything for him and it’s just getting worse.”
The dark vampire closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he held the phone to his ear. He was listening to Buffy’s voice. The breathy mystified-little girl voice she always used with him when she was surprised to see him . . . or when she was trying to ask him for a favor, like now.
“He can take care of himself, Buffy. He doesn’t need me there.”
His boy had taken care of himself and Drusilla for a century. He could deal with this. Angel knew he had been through worse than this. Angelus had put him through more pain than this. He was not going to go up to Sunnydale and deal with one of Spike’s tricks.
“You don’t understand, Angel. The chip is going all wonky. It’s firing for no reason. He’s kind of acting like Drusilla,” Buffy’s little-girl voice urged.
Drusilla? No one can be that bad off. “This is different. I drove Drusilla systematically insane. I did not implant a chip in her head that turned her brain to mush whenever she thought of hurting someone.”
“Are you blaming me for Spike’s chip?” The hard edge that he remembered over the last couple of years was back in her voice.
“You were dating the soldier boy who was part of the group that put it in him. Then, you left it there for years. What did you expect would happen, Buffy? Did you expect him to survive with that chip for the rest of his existence?”
“He was a killer, Angel! I couldn’t let him roam the town unchecked. He has a soul now. He can be a good man.”
Oh God, Spike had a soul? What the hell possessed him to get a soul? Why would he even want one? Angel remembered Spike when he was still a fledgling. He was a good man then, without a soul. It was Angelus who turned him into a cunning and seductive predator. “I know what he was, Buffy. I taught him to be what he was. I taught him to survive and you and your boy wonder neutered him. So, you deal with it.”
“Angel, he needs you. Please. Come and help him,” Buffy’s voice pleaded with him over the phone.
Was it a good idea to go to Sunnydale, deal with the feelings that still lingered for Buffy to help Spike? What if it was one of Spike’s sympathy tricks? What if his boy was gravely injured? What if the chip misfiring had been a catalyst for his insanity? But, Spike has a soul now. He has a soul and he was in Sunnydale around people who didn’t understand what that meant when they never lost theirs before regaining it.
When Angel was about to give his answer he heard Spike yell in agony in the background. That did it. He was going. “I’m coming.”
Angel hung up the phone, grabbed his car keys and duster and ran out of the hotel. He jumped in the car and raced towards Sunnydale as fast as was legally possible to get away with. It still wasn’t fast enough. The whole time he was driving he kept hearing Spike’s agonized cry in his mind. He had to get there and help him. He had to finally stand up to family duty and obligation and help one of his own.
**************************
Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence
Angel pounded on the door harder than he intended. Any harder and his fist would have split the wood. He heard the muffled sound of someone coming to the door and then the click of the handle as it opened to reveal a frazzled Buffy.
“Thank God you’re here! I don’t know what else to do.”
She pulled him inside the house. Apparently she hadn’t revoked his invitation when he went through the doorway and didn’t hit a barrier. Angel let her drag him down the once familiar hallway to the basement door just off the kitchen.
“. . . We have a new Big Evil running around out there playing with our minds and it’s figured out how to play with Spike’s. But, that’s not our real problem at the moment. The real problem is that Spike’s chip has decided that now was the best time in the world to go haywire.”
As if on cue, Spike could be heard yelling in pain from the basement. Buffy cringed at the sound. She looked at Angel with apologetic and shamed eyes. Angel nodded and opened the door. They both went down to the lower level.
The second Angel touched the floor he walked briskly over to the cot and sat on the edge beside Spike. He reached out a hand and tentatively touched the younger vampire’s shoulder.
“Spike, are you in there?”
Spike shook his head to clear it and focused on Angel. His Sire was here? Why would Angel come here? He hadn’t cared about him in years and now he was here. Seeing Buffy in his peripheral vision, he understood how he got here but not why.
“Why are you here, Angel?”
“I got a call saying I was needed to help the hopeless,” Angel said half-joking with a slight smile.
“Not helpless, mate,” Spike groused.
“Hopeless, maybe, But never helpless,” Angel amended. “Want to tell me what’s been going on?”
“Don’t start with that Angel. This isn’t some family reunion where we play catch up and you stay for a few days just to leave again.”
Angel looked at Spike curiously. Spike thought he wanted to discuss old times? He only wanted to know what he was dealing with and to make sure it wasn’t one of Spike’s ploys. Before he could say anything, Spike continued, “You think because this chip in my head is misfiring that I’m too out of it to see what’s going on? Buffy called you here to deal with me because she’s stumped on what to do about it.”
He knew Buffy was standing by the stairs, but for once he decided to be blatantly honest. There was a time when he worried about hurting someone’s feelings by saying something. After the little ocean cruise he had this past summer he was past such niceties. They never worked in his world.
“Spike, the chip has got to come out. What they did to you was inhumane even for a soulless demon. Humans think they can play God when they try to modify any animal’s behavior. It needs to come out now, before it kills you.”
“I can’t kill again Angel. I won’t kill again. I have a soul now,” Spike’s voice was soft. There was little trace of the loud and obnoxious Spike he knew.
“So I heard. Any reason why you felt you needed a soul?”
“A girl, I didn’t want to hurt her anymore, wanted to give her something she deserved. Went to Africa and saw a demon mage.”
Angel’s lips quirked up. “Still love’s bitch after all these years, eh William?”
Spike snuffed at that. He would always be love’s bitch, he supposed. At that moment the chip decided to make its presence known and misfired again. Spike gripped his head in agony and roared through the pain.
Angel startled a bit and then hazarded a look in Buffy’s direction. Buffy shrugged and went upstairs to get the phone to call Riley. Once they were left alone, Angel shifted back on the cot and hugged Spike against him. He ran his fingers through the blonde curls at the crown and purred in his chest, trying to soothe Spike as best he could.
Spike had a death grip on Angel’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the throbbing pain in his head subsided. He was panting heavily. Angelus would have a field day if he ever witnessed this. Spike was sure of it. He heard Angel whisper ‘my boy’.
“Not your boy, Angel. I haven’t been for a long time. We hate each other remember? Which is why I can’t figure out why you’re here? You’ve ignored me for all these years.”
“You didn’t need me these past years. You can handle yourself. You’ve managed without me for a century before you came here. I’m only here to help if I can. We’re going to get that chip out of your head. I won’t see you slowly turning into Drusilla.”
Spike pulled away and leaned back against the concrete wall. “’m not crazy, Angel. God, you should have warned me what having a soul was like. I can feel every one of the lives I’ve taken. Granted I’m not as guilt-ridden as you. No one can be that riddled with guilt.”
“It takes time. It took me years before I learned to tune the voices out. Now, all I see are the faces of the people I’ve killed.”
“Still a work in progress, eh Peaches?”
“That it is. Darla once said the soul was a sickness, a cancer eating away at her from the inside.”
“Then I guess we’re both sick.”