Cold As It
Gets
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-15
Archive: If you already have my stuff,
otherwise just ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in
this story. Need
I say more?
Summary: Set in a very AU world after the
BtVS S6 episode Grave and the Ats
S4 episode, Orpheus. Spike never shows up in Sunnydale, Faith
sticks
around in
"To the end of the earth, I search for
your face,
for the one who laid all of our beauty to waste. Threw
our
hope into hell and our children to the fire. I am the one who
crawled
through the wire. There's a million sad
stories on the
side of the road. Strange how we all just got used to the blood. Millions of stories that will never be told, silent and
froze in
the mud. I know a cold as cold as it gets. I know a darkness
that's
darker than coal. A wind that blows as cold as it gets. Blew out the
light of
my soul...I know a cold as cold as it gets. I fight a war I may never
see won. I
live only to see you live to regret everything that you've done."
~Patty
Griffin, "Cold As It Gets"
Chapter 12
Spike looked up from his book as the dark-skinned man came walking into the hotel lobby. The way he moved told Spike both that he knew the hotel well and that he wasn't very comfortable being back.
"Can I help you?" He managed to keep the hostility out of his voice, but just barely.
The man shifted his weight. "Angel around? Or Wesley?"
"Wesley hasn't come in yet," Spike replied. "And Angel's in bed. Something I can do for you?"
He shook his head. "No. I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd—"
"Charles." Spike watched as Fred came out of the office. She didn't appear very happy to see the man.
"Fred." Gunn straightened his shirt. "How's it going?"
"It's going," she replied. "How are you?"
"Good. Great," he said. "Where is everybody?"
"They're around." Fred threw a rather desperate look at Spike. "Have you met Spike?"
Gunn shook his head. "Just now, I guess. Nice to meet you."
"Yeah," Spike replied. "Think I'll get somethin' to eat. Let you two get caught up." He purposely didn't meet Fred's eyes as he left, knowing that she didn't really want to be left alone with her ex-boyfriend.
Too bad, because Spike didn't particularly want to be in the same room with the two of them and the tension. It made the expansive lobby feel almost claustrophobic.
He heated up his blood, leaning hard against the counter. Spike was still feeling a little foggy from the previous evening. The vision had hit him with a vengeance, nearly incapacitating him. In fact, Angel had made him stay at the hotel with Fred while they took care of things.
Spike didn't want these visions, although he regarded them as just compensation for his past crimes when he was feeling a little melancholy. It was fitting to have the role of rescuer forced upon him when in the past he'd been the monster wreaking havoc, and yet they hurt—his head, his heart, his soul. They left him vulnerable and weak, and if there was anything Spike hated more than being vulnerable and weak, he didn't know what it was.
"You okay?"
He turned to see Fred watching him with anxious eyes. "That was quick," he replied, not answering her question.
She was always asking him that. Everyone was, with their eyes if not with their lips. Even Angel, whom Spike would have thought couldn't care less about his wellbeing. They all wanted to know if he was going to be okay.
The truth was that he wasn't okay, and he hadn't been for a long time now. He was growing used to it at this point.
"He was just stopping in," Fred said. "We don't have much to say to each other anymore." She swung herself up on the counter to let her feet dangle. "Spike..."
"I'll be alright," he assured her. "Last night was just a bad one."
"They got bad for Cordelia, too." He could hear the worry creeping into her voice now. "Before she got turned into half a demon."
"Guess it's a good thing I'm all demon, then, huh?"
"You're not all demon," Fred responded, her tone sharp. "You shouldn't cut yourself down like that."
"Ask Angel," Spike shot back. "He can tell you what a vampire is."
"It's not about what you are, it's about what you do." She moved so quickly that he was hardly ready for it, hopping off the counter and getting right up in his face. "You're not going to give up on me, are you?"
"I don't give up," Spike said, stung. "I'm no quitter."
"Good." She stepped back. "Just checking."
Spike sighed. "I'm just...tired, is all, and it's not going to get better."
"Don't say that," Fred protested. "You don't know that for sure."
"I know." Spike shook his head. "Sorry, pet. I'm not good company today. Maybe I'll try to get some sleep."
Fred stared at him, and he was caught by the expression in her eyes, not knowing what to make of it. Half-fearful, half-brave, she darted forward and pressed her lips to his. Spike was too stunned to do anything for the space of a heartbeat, and then he kissed her back.
It had been so long since he'd been touched. So long since he'd been kissed with this sort of softness—not since Anya, if he had to be honest. Before that, not since Buffy had given him her thank-you kiss after he'd been tortured by Glory.
The kiss itself was chaste, more friendly than impassioned, although there was the potential of more. The potential tasted like hope—sweet as honey.
"Oh," she murmured after he pulled back. "I didn't meant to do that."
"Already regretting it?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, even though her rejection stung.
Fred shook her head. "No! Not at all. It's just that Faith told me I should jump your bones, but I really wasn't planning on doing anything like that unless I knew you were okay with it. And then you just looked like you could use something, and I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. I hope you don't mind. Do you mind? I know you don't like me like that, but I—"
Spike cut off her words the only way he knew how, stopping her lips with his own, swallowing the rest of her rambled explanation. This embrace was as chaste as the first, his hands framing her face rather than wandering.
It was so easy, so restful. So simple. Spike wanted something real, something simple this time around. He didn't think he had the energy for the grand passion. His love for Buffy had used him up and burned him out. The return of his soul and the visions had wrung him dry.
"I like you," he murmured when they finally broke off the kiss. "'s just that I don't have much left in me for more, Fred."
She just smiled at him. "Isn't this enough?"
~~~~~
"Hold still." Spike watched in amusement as Angel tried to straighten Connor's tie. He had to admit that the kid cleaned up well.
"I am holding still," Connor replied. "Why do I have to wear this again?"
"It's traditional." Angel took a step back. "Okay, I think that'll do. Do you have the corsage?"
"Fred's got it in the fridge downstairs," Spike said. "He'll be fine, Peaches."
Angel ignored him. "You have plenty of cash, right? And you're sure you don't want me to drive you? Because I could drive you. It's not a problem."
"Enough," Spike ordered him. "He'll be fine, Angel. Stop bein' such a mother hen."
Angel turned to glare at him this time. "Did I ask for your opinion?"
"No, but you need it."
Connor rolled his eyes, all sign of nerves gone in the wake of the familiar bickering. "I'll be fine, Dad. I promise." Angel opened his mouth to speak. "I'll call you if there's any trouble."
Spike moved to one side to allow him to get out the door, following a few steps behind the two of them, watching as Angel tailed his son downstairs. The emotion on his face was of pride mixed with worry, and although Spike would have never admitted to it, he understood.
You could say he felt the same way, given that he had quite a fondness for the boy.
Spike watched as Fred put the finishing touches on his tie, smoothed out the front of his jacket, and pronounced him handsome. Connor shuffled his feet a bit and muttered a disclaimer, and then he escaped out the door, happy to get away from the emotions the others seemed bent on showering him with.
He caught Fred's eye, and she gave him an apologetic smile. "I've gotta go. I have a meeting with a friend."
"Is this about taking a position with the physics department?" Angel asked with interest.
She shrugged. "We're still talkin' about it. I'm not ready to make a decision. I keep thinking that I want to go back, but we'll see."
"Have fun," Angel said. "We'll see you later."
Spike watched her go and felt adrift. Wesley and Faith were out for the night, and Spike suspected that Wesley hadn't wanted to be around for this latest reminder of how grown-up Angel's son was.
They all did penance in their own way, Spike thought. They all had their redemption to work out.
He wandered into Angel's office, dropping into the chair across from his desk. Instead of ordering him out, Angel poured both of them a drink and handed him a glass. "It still hits me," Angel commented out of the blue. "How old he is."
"He's a good kid," Spike replied, meaning it. He could offer the compliment since it was about Connor, and not Angel. "You should be proud."
"I am." Angel sighed. "I talked to Buffy the other day."
Spike closed his eyes against the blow. Hearing her name always got to him like that. "You tell her where I was?"
"She didn't ask, and I didn't offer the
information."
Angel gave him a long look. "She's coming to
"You two getting back together?"
Angel gave him a faint smile. "Do you really think that's ever going to be possible, Spike?"
"Couldn't say," he replied. "The world is full of impossible things."
"Are you really not going back?" Angel asked. "She forgave me. She could forgive you, too."
Spike was quiet for a very long while. Angel didn't have all the details, but he had enough. There had been a night not long ago when they had somehow managed to get very drunk together. Angel had been feeling melancholy, and Spike hadn't minded taking part in the drinking, and most of the story had leaked out.
Spike had believed that if Angel ever found out a tenth of what transpired, he would be dust. Instead, Angel had merely gotten a nostalgic smile on his face and murmured, "She does make you crazy sometimes, doesn't she?"
Of course, it had probably helped that he was too drunk to stand up at the time.
"I don't belong there anymore," Spike said.
What he didn't say, what he would never say, was that Spike didn't trust her, not with the visions coming upon him so suddenly. Not with his weakness. Not when he needed someone to keep him anchored.
Angel looked at him with compassion—the expression of a brother who has learned to take pity on a younger sibling's weaknesses and trials. Spike knew that Angel was seeing family, even if neither one of them liked to admit that the relationship existed.
"Then it's probably a good thing you found your way here."
It was more of a welcome than Spike had ever expected, and it warmed something within him. For the first time in their long relationship, there was no hint of rivalry. It sapped the bitterness out of their association, leaving only a long history.
"Guess it is," Spike finally replied, when he was sure he could speak without too much emotion choking him. "You lot would be wandering blind without me."
It was a mark of how much things had changed that Angel didn't argue with him, although it couldn't be said that he agreed either.
~~~~~
"I've been looking for you." Wesley's voice broke into Spike's concentration on the video game, and he sighed. The other man only came looking for him when he wanted something, usually another researcher who knew more than the faint smattering of Latin that Angel could grasp.
Spike had finally sat down with the man a week or two before, answering the questions Wesley had asked about his soul and how he'd gotten it. Not all of them, of course. There were secrets that Spike had no intention of divulging, but he'd told his story. In a way it had been nice, to have someone that interested in what he had to say. Spike couldn't say that had happened in a good long while.
Actually, Spike couldn't remember the last time that had happened.
Wesley had professed himself satisfied, however, and so Spike couldn't see why the ex-Watcher would be looking for him. "What's up?"
"I think you should know about a prophecy," Wesley said, taking a seat on the free chair. Connor, with the help of Spike and Faith, had convinced Angel to set one of the rooms up as a sort of lounging area, with a television and gaming system. It had been Connor's idea, but Spike had given the boy pointers on how best to convince Angel, and Faith had joined in the application of pressure.
Later, Angel had commented to Spike what a great idea he'd had in putting aside the room, since Connor could be found at the hotel a lot more these days. Spike, to his credit, had kept his mouth shut on whose idea it had really been.
Okay, so he'd kept his mouth shut for all of two minutes.
Wesley was obviously waiting for him to reply, so Spike finally said, "Fine. What prophecy?"
"It's about a souled vampire," Wesley replied. "When you arrived, I wasn't certain if it applied to you or to Angel."
"Try Angel," Spike said without looking up from his game. "He's the one with the grand destiny, not me."
Wesley sighed. "Don't you even want to hear what it's about?"
Spike paused the game, putting down the controller and turning to face the man. He had a feeling that Wesley wasn't going to let this drop until Spike knew every detail of the prophecy, since he was apparently under some mistaken impression that it was his duty to fill Spike in. "Fine. What's it about?"
"After a number of apocalypses and battles, the souled vampire will be granted his humanity." Wesley seemed to be watching carefully for Spike's reaction to the news.
Spike shrugged. "Is that it? Sometime in the distant future one or both of us is goin' to be human?"
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Angel was a little more excited when we told him about the prophecy."
"Angel always did have an inflated sense of self-importance," Spike said with a wry smile. "It's part of his charm."
Wesley grinned at that. "I can't say that I disagree with you, but I thought you should know. It's just as likely that the prophecy applies to you. It's also just as likely that you've created your own destiny by pursuing your soul. It's unprecedented."
"I figured. Hurts like a bitch, too," Spike said. He leaned back in his chair. "Why are you really telling me this, mate?"
"Because we all need a reason to fight, Spike," Wesley replied. "Angel fights as much for his chance at being human as he does for his redemption. I thought you would like to know, whether you believe the prophecy applies to you or not."
Spike considered that. "Don't think the idea of being human again appeals to me all that much, but thanks for the information." He paused, then asked, "What do you fight for?"
Wesley shook his head. "I'm not sure anymore," he admitted. "I just know that it's important that I do."
"Yeah." Spike nodded, knowing exactly what Wesley meant. They fought because they knew no other way, their purpose unclear, knowing only that the battle meant something to someone.
"Why do you fight, Spike?"
He smiled a little, the melancholy in his eyes lightening a bit, remembering the child they had saved the other night, and his mother's words of gratitude. "Me? I fight because it makes a difference sometimes. I reckon that's enough."
Most days it was enough.
~~~~~
Spike knew he was being a coward. Up on the roof, there was no chance of the Slayer sensing him. Not that he was the only one making himself scarce. Faith had disappeared as soon as she found out that Buffy was coming to the Hyperion. Buffy wanted to talk to Angel about something, and Faith wasn't going to be around for that drama, not after the last time the three of them had been in the same room. She'd told Spike about it when he'd asked, wondering what would scare the girl off, since Faith wasn't afraid of much.
It wasn't that he was afraid of her staking him. Spike figured Buffy had a right to dust him if that's what she wanted. If that's all it had been, he would have met her in the lobby and waited for her decision.
What he was most afraid of wasn't his own ending, but the chance that she wouldn't stake him. Spike was afraid that she might forgive him. That one look into her eyes would entrance him, that he would be helpless against her Siren's call.
In short, Spike was afraid of falling in love with her all over again. He knew that it was too much to hope that she would love him.
Spike was tired of hopeless battles.
Here, in
Spike was really tired of being Love's Bitch.
His hope was that if he avoided the temptation, if he didn't see her or talk to her, he would be one step closer to getting over her. One of these days, when he was more certain of his own strength, he would send her a letter and apologize, and then she could read it or not as she wished.
Spike wondered if that day would ever come.
"She's gone."
Fred's voice floated through the night air, interrupting his somber thoughts. "Is she now?"
"She didn't stay very long," Fred informed him. "Came in, talked to Angel for about an hour, and then she left again. I guess she was meeting with her dad or something, and thought she'd be polite."
Spike nodded, fumbling in his pockets for a cigarette. He didn't smoke much these days. Angel frowned on it, saying that it set a bad example for Connor, but on occasion he and Faith would sneak a fag or two. He needed one now.
He shook one out of the pack, lit it with a practiced gesture, and took a deep drag. "Can I?" Fred asked.
Spike gave her a surprised look but handed over the cigarette, and then watched as she inhaled deeply, letting out a stream of smoke. "Didn't know you smoked."
"I don't," Fred replied. "Not anymore. I quit awhile back. I smoked a little in high school, when I went to parties to fit in."
He took his cigarette back and offered her another, smiling when she shook her head. "Glad I'm not too bad an influence on you, pet."
"You're what kept me here, Spike," Fred told him. His face must have betrayed his surprise, because she continued. "Before you came, I didn't have any reason to be here, not that I could see. I just didn't know what else to do, so I stayed."
"Not sure that's supposed to make me feel good," Spike replied. "Might be better if you got out of this life."
Fred shook her head. "You can't see what I've seen and go on with your life as though nothing had happened. I learned that a long time ago."
Spike turned to face her. "Not sure why you're telling me this."
"Because I thought you needed to hear it," Fred replied. "In case you thinking your being here doesn't matter, because it does."
He hesitated only a moment before kissing her, this embrace a repeat of the one a few days before. Neither of them had spoken of the kiss, and Spike had the impression that Fred was waiting for him to make a decision.
Spike had made his decision. Perhaps he'd made it the night he'd saved her life, the night he'd opened his eyes to find her watching over him as he slept.
Maybe Fred was right. Maybe this was enough.
And Spike felt the first stirrings of true
happiness within
his soul.
l.