I’ve never attempted fanfic before, so please excuse me if this is not very good. Thought I’d have a go and see if it was any fun. This tale is set in the aftermath of the final Angel episode and while it might reference a bit of what happened in the comics after, it will only be vaguely. Never read them myself. The story is centered around spike, but will likely venture into a Spike/Buffy thing down the road. Hope you enjoy :)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Heaven And Hell
Twisted was the only word to describe the creature. Easily eight feet tall and thick at the shoulders and chest, it was a creature designed from the ground up for violence. Dark brown skin, marked with the scars and burns of countless battles, it was a nightmare. Huge clawed hands flexed in anticipation as it advanced.
Spike pushed himself from the dark wall of the alley he’d been leaning against, spitting blood on the already bloody ground. The demon, not one Spike had seen before, leered at him. It knew he was hurting, knew that there wasn’t much fight left in the vampire. An easy kill. The leather clad, platinum haired vampire could hardly stand.
Spike knew all of this as well. How long since he’d met Angel and the others in that alley? How long since Wolfram & Hart had unleashed hell onto the city of Los Angeles? Hours? Days? It felt like years. He wondered briefly where the others had got off to, if any were still standing. They’d gotten separated in the initial explosion of violence, when the first wave of the armies of hell had descended on them.
Gunn had fallen, that much Spike knew He’d been close anyway, even before the fighting had started again. A shame, really. Angel and Illyria, he just wasn’t sure. There’d been so many demons, so many enemies. Somewhere in the chaos, in the pounding blood and heat of battle, he’d lost sight of them. Spike spared them a final thought, wishing them well… though he immediately snorted at the notion of him wishing Angel well.
He didn’t have time to dwell on the absurdity of that. The demon was almost on him. He knew this was probably it. Those J’varl demons had taken a lot out of him. Bloody things, spitting fire like that. He knew he was about to die. Again. He should probably be afraid, but that just wasn’t him. A laugh erupted out of him and he smirked at the hulking beast thundering down the alley at him.
“Right then, Nancy. Let’s have us a dance, you and I.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was there with him, in the darkness, kissing his chin gently. He could feel her hands on his chest, on his shoulders, lines of finger trailing in the wake of each fingertip. Inhaling, he took in her scent, the silky feel of her hair against his cheek, the intoxicating reality of feeling having her body moving with his.
“Spike,” a whisper, nothing more, but it sent a shock of electricity through his system to hear her moan his name, to feel the urgency in the way her hands clutched at his flesh.
“Buffy,” he breathed it into her hair, moving with her harder now, not sure exactly where his body ended and hers began.
Heaven. This was heaven.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the smell that stirred him, finally. A rancid stink invaded on the darkness that enveloped him, assaulting his senses and he groaned softly. There was a heavy weight on top of him, pressing down on him and crushing him. Awareness of the weight triggered the realization of a new sensation, pain. His entire body was on fire, screaming in protest over the treatment it had received.
“Soddin’ hell,” he grunted, using what little strength remaining in him to shove the corpse of the huge demon to the side “Smells like a wet diaper.”
His head rolled to the side and he took in the brutish face of the dead demon, even managed a bit of a grin. It was harder than he would have liked though. “Looks like you come up short, mate.’
How long now? His eyes moved to the sky above, but he knew before he even saw the brightening sky that dawn was coming. For a second, he closed his eyes. So tired. He was so bloody tired.
But no, he couldn’t rest. Not only was the sun coming, and soon, but he could hear demons in the distance. A strangled groan escaped him as he struggled to rise and finally managed to roll to his feat. One of his legs wasn’t working properly and he knew without checking that it was bad, but he forced himself to push through it and to ignore the other injuries. No time.
The battered vampire staggered to the alley exit to the street beyond. There was destruction everywhere. Fire was consuming a number of the closest buildings and it was obvious that these buildings weren’t the only ones. The smell of smoke and the distant screams of fear and pain were everywhere, in every direction. And the bodies. Mangled corpses of people fleeing for their lives. The lucky ones, maybe.
He forced himself not to see as he stumbled into the street. No time for that kind of thinking now. He had to get somewhere safe, away from the sun. There. He spotted a manhole cover and ran to it. Falling to his knees, he bit back the agony that surged through his body at the impact of flesh on concrete and forced the heavy iron manhole cover to the side.
Blood pounded in his ears and his vision grew painfully hazy. He was losing consciousness.
“No,” he paused and shook his head violently to clear it “Come on, Spike. What are you, some soddin’ poufter? Just a bit of the rough an tumble. Nothing you haven’t felt before. Love taps. Nothing at all. Get moving.”
And he did, slipping down the ladder leading into the sewers. He only barely managed to drag the manhole cover back into place, but he did manage it.
“Right…” he muttered once he finally got to the bottom of the ladder and stood in the inky blackness of the sewers below Los Angeles. “Sun problem’s all taken care of. Now just need to find a spot where I can rest my head for a bit. Then I can get back to… “
He didn’t finish the thought because he wasn’t quite sure how to. Get back to what? He didn’t even know if anyone else was alive
“Fuck it. Rest now, figure it out later.”
Through the sewers he moved, slowly because he couldn’t manage any better. The darkness wasn’t a problem, of course. He could navigate just fine. The pain, however, was only getting worse. Several times he stumbled and fell crashing to the sewage water. Each time he thought that might be the end of it, but each time he struggled painfully to his feet again and kept on walking.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he forced himself to push ahead. Might be simply that he was contrary by nature and didn’t much like the idea that the bastards burning Los Angeles over his head could beat him. Might be that he wouldn’t allow himself to be found there, in the sewage. Might be because Buffy… no, definitely not the right time to be thinking those thoughts.
He simply pushed himself because it’s what he was, who he was. Collapsing would be giving up and that’s not something he’d allow himself to do.
The he caught the scent. Human, and frightened. He paused, sniffing the air again to isolate that particular scent from the thousand unpleasant smells surrounding him. Not too distant. He forced himself to walk again, following the scent.
As he followed, however, he became aware of second scent on the same path. The second was most definitely not human.
“Fuck a soddin’ duck,” he muttered and forced himself into a lurching gait, the closest to a run he could manage.
There. The demon, a lanky creature with scaled green skin, was passing through a steel doorway. Spike could see something moving in the room beyond. Humans, cornered humans. Soon to be dinner demons.
He didn’t think about it. Didn’t give his body a chance to protest or refuse to cooperate. He simply broke into a sprint and crashed into the scaly creatures back. There was no time for a fight. No time for anything more than one violent explosion. Anything more than that and…
The demon had been distracted. It had been so intent on finding and playing with it’s meal that it had not seen Spike coming. So the vampire slammed into it’s back, catching it completely unawares. There were screams and a brief struggle, but his hands found it’s head. There was a violent, sickening pop and snap as he twisted, then it lay still.
Spike looked up slowly, knowing he was going to pass out. Not one human. A group of them. He couldn’t tell how many.
“Close the fucking door. This isn’t the only one out there.”
He found himself grinning as he said it, but never did catch their reaction before the darkness took him again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was asleep. In his arms. Looking so peaceful, so contented simply laying there with her head on his chest. His hand was in her hair, that long blonde hair that he loved so much, stroking her gently. She stirred against him in appreciation, curling closer against his body.
It was a perfect moment. He was afraid to move. Had he been able to breath he would have been afraid to do that either, for fear of breaking the moment. She was in his arms completely vulnerable. Trusting him. Allowing him to protect her. Allowing him to offer her his strength.
He looked down, taking in every detail of her face, capturing all of her so that he would never forget this moment.
This was Heaven.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Voices. Quiet voices speaking in bare whispers around him. He wasn’t dead. Well, not any more dead than he had been.
“We have to go. We can’t just stay down here forever. It’s been two days!’
“Go where? You saw what’s up there.”
“So what, we just starve to death down here instead?”
“A little more time. Maybe…”
“Maybe what? Look at that fucking thing! We have to get out of here!”
“No, if we go out there they’ll find us.”
Spike opened his eyes slowly, refusing to make a sound as the pain came back. There was a moment there, just before he fully woke, that he’d been able to feel her. A moment where he could see her face. Just a moment, but…
He refused to indulge in it. What was the point? She was off in Rome, dancing with that bleeding ponce The Immortal…. The Immortal of all people! Stupid bit. But she was there living her life happily without him, and he was.. Where.. Oh yes, in a fucking sewer with an army of demons walking the earth over his head.
He couldn’t help himself, he laughed. “Fucking typical,” he muttered, sitting up.
There was silence, a second of blessed silence, then the screams started.
“Oh my God, he’s one of them!”
“He’s moving!”
“We’re all going to die!”
“Oh for the love of… Will you bloody tossers shut your damned yaps?” He snapped, wincing at the screaming. “There’s things outside that door that’ll hear, remember?”
There was a stunned silence and Spike used it to take stock of the situation. He’d been laying on the floor, of course, in the corner of a large maintenance room. And of course, they’d thrown him right beside three dead humans. Naturally. They’d probably felt for a pulse and thought him dead.
He snorted. Two men, two women and a small child all huddled on the other side of the spacious room, staring at him with numb horror. He peered at them for a moment, taking in the filth on their faces and clothing, the hollow looks in their eyes. Looks he’d seen before. Looks he’d been the cause of all too often.
Glancing down, he got a good look at himself in the dim light. Shit. His body was a mass of wounds, from the trivial to things that would have killed a mortal outright. His clothes her beyond salvageable. Not only had they been left to soak in blood and any number of different gooey substances, the fighting had not been kind. Even his beloved duster looked the worse for wear. He touched his leg, testing how tender it was. Okay, not good.
Then he looked at his stomach and growled, throwing a furious look at the humans watching him in terrified silence.
“Are you kidding? There’s a fucking tooth sticking out of me and you just left it there?’ he demanded
They looked at each other, most of them still trying to get up to speed, but one man, an old man in what must have once been a very expensive suit, stepped forward slowly. He looked a bit guilty.
“We… We thought you were dead. You didn’t, “he took a breath then continued “You didn’t have a pulse. We checked.”
“Well, yeah, “ Spike snapped, looking back down at the nasty looking tooth sticking out of the flesh below his ribs “Vampire.”
That shut them up proper, but he didn’t really have the chance to enjoy their faces. A hand moved to the tooth, and…
“Bloody T’lasi beasts, “ he growled as it came out, speaking more so that he wouldn’t groan than anything else. The large tooth was tossed aside and went back to his inspection.
Quiet dominated the room as he looked himself over. He ignored the humans, too irritated to really care about them at the moment. He definitely needed some mending. Even he wasn’t going to just shrug this off. Especially not without feeding.
Then his hands moved to his face and he felt it, a long, deep slash on the right cheek, running from ear to chin. His fingers traced the line of it, brushing over the dried blood coating it. He sat quietly, digesting the new information.
‘Ah, sod it.” he growled after a moment “Birds love a good scar, I guess.”
“Ah.. Hmm.. Sir?” a hesitant voice, speaking again. The older man, the one that seemed to have a bigger set than the others. He was approaching tentatively. “Are you going to.. Ah..”
Spike scowled at him. It was a valid enough question, what with him being a vampire, but still it was enough to elicit a wave of irritation. “Yes, I saved your sorry asses so I could have the fun of offing you myself,” he snapped.
The man’s eyes widened and he started backing up. Behind him, the fear intensified immediately. He heard the child, a little boy, begin to cry. It was the crying that made Spike sigh and push himself to his feet. Or try to push himself up. His body dissuaded him from that notion right away and he slide back down, closing his eyes.
“Listen, relax.” he said tiredly. “Not going to hurt you. Things are more complicated than that. I don’t… do that anymore.’
He kept his eyes closed, knowing they were whispering urgently amongst themselves and not really having the energy to care enough to listen. He felt like he’d been swallowed whole and spit out.
A few moments later, the man spoke again. By his scent, he was a little less terrified than the others. Not much less but it was enough, Spike guessed. “Ah, sir..”
“Spike,” Spike muttered, not opening his eyes. “Name’s Spike.” He almost added that being called sir made him want to crack their heads open, but he knew they were in no state to hear that sort of thing.
“Alright, Spike,” The man was closer again “Can you tell us what’s going on, Spike? Those… things?”
“Demons, mate,” Spike said wearily “Nasty buggers.”
“Demons,” the man said slowly. It really wasn’t something he could argue with, not anymore “And you’re a vampire. That won’t hurt us.”
“Pretty quick on the pick up, aren’t you?” Spike smirked “Must be why they let you wear that poncy get up.”
The man made a strange sound, half sob and half snarl “Listen, asshole. I’m huddling in the fucking sewer with my wife and child. Two days ago we saw our house burned down and you tell me that demons did it. And oh yeah, you’re the vampire who saved our lives then decided to play dead until now. Given the circumstances, I’d say I’m doing pretty good, so cut me some fucking slack and answer me!”
Spike laughed in response. A quiet, amused laugh. The man had some stones. He had to give him that.
“Fair enough,” he said, still chucking over the outburst “Look, you’re not gonna understand all this, but I’ll tell you a bit. What’s happening up top is.. Well, it’s an apocalypse, I guess. The why of it doesn’t much matter now, but it’s happening. By the numbers I saw, it’s gonna keep happening for a good long time, too.’
The child began crying again, as did one of the women. The lot of them discussed the matter again in quiet whispers, leaving Spike alone, for which he was grateful. His own thoughts were churning as he tried to figure out a plan, something to do. There just didn’t seem to be any options. He wasn’t going to heal unless he fed. That much was clear. Trouble was, he couldn’t feed unless he left that room, which he was certain he was incapable of. Even if he could walk, anything nasty he came across would have an easy time with him.
He doubted the humans had any food for themselves either, meaning they were just as screwed as he was. Trapped in sewer, starving to death. Sod that, he’d force himself to walk, go find some beastie and die swinging like he was supposed to.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. For many reasons he couldn’t do that. He sighed, willing himself to sleep again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were fighting. Sparring really, but it amounted to the same thing. No need to hold back, no need to be anything but himself with her, like this. He threw himself into the fight, the fury and intensity of it, the blood and danger, feeling alive. Feeling powerful and free. Not much could compare.
She felt it too. He could see it in her eyes, those mesmerizing eyes. The way she smiled when his kick knocked her back. The way she threw her hair, just because she knew he liked that, and came back at him. She probably didn’t even realize that she was seducing him, but she was. The way she moved, the lithe power of her small body.
No, she knew. The glint in her eyes spoke the truth confirmed by her scent. Aroused, breathing deeply, she moved with more sway than she did normally. He had to laugh softly. God help him, she was beautiful. Perfect.
This was Heaven.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spike found the man sitting beside him when he woke again. Looking down, Spike saw that most of his wounds had been wrapped. Crudely, of course, with clothes from the dead, but much better than nothing at all. He felt his face, at the cloth covering his right cheek and sighed. Definitely a scar on that one.
“Can you help us, Spike?” the man asked quietly when he noticed the vampire move. The rest of the room was quiet. The other humans were asleep.
Spike sat up slowly careful not to open any of his wounds again. He sighed “I’m not sure, mate. It doesn’t look good. Not good for much of a fight right now, and there’s sure as hell going to be some rough play before anyone gets out of the city.”
The man looked at him with thin lips. “Are you going to get better? You seem to be, a bit.”
“Not enough. Need to feed.” Spike grunted “Just the way we work. Can take the punishment, but the body needs…” He shrugs.
“Feed,” the man said slowly “You mean…?”
“I do,” Spike smirked at the man’s face. “You happen to have a couple of bags of O Negative laying around?”
“I see,” the man sighed.
“Pretty much my thoughts exactly, mate,” Spike nodded.
“If you feed, you’ll be better? You’ll be able to get us out of here?”
Spike frowned at the man. “Thinkin of a noble sacrifice, are you? Just when I thought you might have had a thought or two in your head worth hearing. Forget it. The bird and your boy are going to need you around. You’re not doing anyone any favors talking like that.”
The man coughed, looking miserable. As he should have. But he persisted. “Listen, we have some bottled water, but its not going to last. And the food we have… that’s going to be gone tonight. If we don’t do anything, we’ll all die down here. We have to do something. I’m not saying.. I mean, I don’t know how it works. Do you have to.. Kill when you feed?”
“No,” Spike was still scowling at the man.
“What if,” the man looked decidedly dejected, uncomfortable “What if all of the adults gave you some? Just some?”
“You’re taking some pretty big liberties with their blood, you know,” Spike didn’t like where this was heading, but he knew it was probably the only chance they’d have.
“No, I’m not. We’ve all agreed to it. Not the boy, though. You don’t touch my son,” the man’s eyes hardened.
A grin cracked Spikes features, which was a fairly gruesome image with the makeshift bandage in place. “Not bad. Might work, I suppose. Seems better than anything I can come up with, anyway.”
The man nodded. “Good. Now… does it have to be the neck?”
And that was how it happened. They spent another two days in their tiny, secure room. Each of the men and women took their turns feeding Spike. He was careful, taking only small amounts each time. They were weakening slowly, starving, but they did it. And his body began to mend itself.
Finally, he found he could stand again. Gingerly at first, he could walk without feeling like he was going to scream from the pain. It wasn’t going to be so easy as all of them marching out together, though. The adults were too weak to move quickly. The lack of food combined with the loss of blood was not going to allow them to do much.
He looked them over, still sensing their fear of him, their desperate hope that he could get them out of here.
“Listen, none of you are strong enough to make the trip out of the city. Wait here. I’m going to head out,’ he told them.
The man, the leader of their tiny tribe, looked suddenly panicked. His already pale face went white. “You’re going to leave!? We had a deal!”
“Relax,” Spike was about to make a sharp comeback, but he just couldn’t with that little boy watching. He couldn’t have been more than four or five. They all looked so bloody lost. “I’m not abandoning you, mate. Gotta head up top, get a look at what happened. See where we stand. I’ll bring you back some food.”
The relief and gratitude in their eyes was more than he could take. Before they could say anything else, he was heading to the door. “Lock this behind me. Three knocks. Don’t open up for anything else.”
And he was gone, alone again. He pushed their desperate eyes out of his mind and moved through the sewer ways until he found a grate. One kick knocked the lock away and he pushed his way through the opening, crawled through the slimy tunnel toward the surface and the gloriously fresh night air.
He’d only made it outside for a moment though, taken one quick glance around, be he stopped and cursed.
‘Fuck,” he breathed “So… this is Hell.’