FIC - You Know I Didn't
title: You Know I Didn’t
pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG
Warning: Spoilers for series finale of AtS
Just a little ficlet inspired by watching reruns tonight.
“So... if any of us makes it through this alive, does one of us get to be a real boy?”, Spike asked, clearly unaware of Angel’s signing away any right to the prophecy, no matter if it was real or not.
“Who are you kidding, Spike? You know that none of us are gonna make it through this night alive.”
“Good. As long as it's not you.”
The short exchange echoed in his head for a long time after. As it turned out, whether or not the Shanshu prophecy was bogus, neither of them became human after the showdown in the alley, but neither of them had died either.
Angel had been right, almost. Other than the two of them, none of them had made it through that night alive. And since then, the two of them had been living in the same space, but barely acknowledging the others presence. There was too much grief, too much sadness and overwhelming sense of loss. Spike never thought, even with the soul, that he’d be capable of feeling such crushing misery, this anguish that didn’t seem to have any way of being healed. When had he given a shit for Wes or Charlie, other than saving their asses in fights against demons? More than he knew, clearly. And Illyria…well, he hadn’t known her well but he’d known Fred and there was no getting around the fact that he’d cared very much for her.
And then there was the actual fight. As much as Spike had tried to put it out of his mind, he knew he’d come as close to death as he’d been since the Hell Gods, since the amulet in the basement in Sunnydale, as close as he’d been since he had actually died at the hands (fangs) of Drusilla.
There had been a moment - maybe more than just one moment - he’d been back there, looking at Cecily and feeling his heart jump with joy. Killing with his family and knowing it was what he was made for. Earning his new name by torturing humans. Knowing he’d lost Dru and almost coming apart completely with the loss. Going after what he intended to be his third dead Slayer and falling in love with her before he got a chance to kill her. Hearing her say that she loved him and knowing it was a lie. Realizing what he really felt for Angel and shoving it away deep inside of him, not willing to acknowledge what it was.
But then he didn’t die, because Angel made sure of it.
Sitting on the balcony and looking out over the ruined city as he sucked down on his Marlboro, he realized that for once, he wasn’t alone. He pulled the pack from his duster, lit another smoke, and handed it over. Angel took it without hesitation, as he always did, pulling on it like it was going to make some kind of difference.
Angel had had his soul for much longer, and he knew the repercussions much better than Spike. But he never said anything. He just waited.
“I didn’t mean it, mate, you know? You do know, right?”
“What didn’t you mean?”
“When I said as long as it wasn’t you. I didn’t mean it. If I’m going to still be here, I’d rather be here with you than be here alone. When I thought I was done for, you saved me. I’d like to think I’d have done the same for you.”
Their hands intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the order of the universe.
“Yeah. You would have. I’m sure of it, Will.”
pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG
Warning: Spoilers for series finale of AtS
Just a little ficlet inspired by watching reruns tonight.
“So... if any of us makes it through this alive, does one of us get to be a real boy?”, Spike asked, clearly unaware of Angel’s signing away any right to the prophecy, no matter if it was real or not.
“Who are you kidding, Spike? You know that none of us are gonna make it through this night alive.”
“Good. As long as it's not you.”
The short exchange echoed in his head for a long time after. As it turned out, whether or not the Shanshu prophecy was bogus, neither of them became human after the showdown in the alley, but neither of them had died either.
Angel had been right, almost. Other than the two of them, none of them had made it through that night alive. And since then, the two of them had been living in the same space, but barely acknowledging the others presence. There was too much grief, too much sadness and overwhelming sense of loss. Spike never thought, even with the soul, that he’d be capable of feeling such crushing misery, this anguish that didn’t seem to have any way of being healed. When had he given a shit for Wes or Charlie, other than saving their asses in fights against demons? More than he knew, clearly. And Illyria…well, he hadn’t known her well but he’d known Fred and there was no getting around the fact that he’d cared very much for her.
And then there was the actual fight. As much as Spike had tried to put it out of his mind, he knew he’d come as close to death as he’d been since the Hell Gods, since the amulet in the basement in Sunnydale, as close as he’d been since he had actually died at the hands (fangs) of Drusilla.
There had been a moment - maybe more than just one moment - he’d been back there, looking at Cecily and feeling his heart jump with joy. Killing with his family and knowing it was what he was made for. Earning his new name by torturing humans. Knowing he’d lost Dru and almost coming apart completely with the loss. Going after what he intended to be his third dead Slayer and falling in love with her before he got a chance to kill her. Hearing her say that she loved him and knowing it was a lie. Realizing what he really felt for Angel and shoving it away deep inside of him, not willing to acknowledge what it was.
But then he didn’t die, because Angel made sure of it.
Sitting on the balcony and looking out over the ruined city as he sucked down on his Marlboro, he realized that for once, he wasn’t alone. He pulled the pack from his duster, lit another smoke, and handed it over. Angel took it without hesitation, as he always did, pulling on it like it was going to make some kind of difference.
Angel had had his soul for much longer, and he knew the repercussions much better than Spike. But he never said anything. He just waited.
“I didn’t mean it, mate, you know? You do know, right?”
“What didn’t you mean?”
“When I said as long as it wasn’t you. I didn’t mean it. If I’m going to still be here, I’d rather be here with you than be here alone. When I thought I was done for, you saved me. I’d like to think I’d have done the same for you.”
Their hands intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the order of the universe.
“Yeah. You would have. I’m sure of it, Will.”