Well here it is, the final chapter. thank you to everyone that
has
taken the time to read and review this one.
I was a little surprised by the response and very flattered.
Hope you enjoy the last installment.
Feral 7/7
Author: Lilithangel
Email:
abchainey@xtra.co.nz
Website:
www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
Fandom: AtS
Characters: Angel/Spike
Genre: slash
Summary: Post NFA, Angel continues the fight thinking he is alone but
he
finds a badly hurt feral Spike hiding out in the Hyperion. How does he
react and can he help Spike heal? This is for DR who always gives me
feedback on LJ and the Yahoo groups. You said you liked feral Spike
honey, hope you like my version.
* * * * *
He still patrolled, he had nothing else to do. But returning to
the
empty Hyperion was not pleasant. Over and over he questioned what
had happened, chastised himself for letting things get carried away
taking advantage when he knew it was wrong.
Lying in bed on the edge of sleep he would wait for the familiar weight
to settle beside him, but it never came.
Several times he found he was close to Spike's apartment but he always
turned around and walked away. He had no idea what he could say
in
any case. Come back let's start again? Nothing had really
begun in the first place so what was there to come back to?
Too wrapped up in his own despair he failed to notice the slim figure
that watched him every night.
He also failed to notice a second demon in the alleyway until a claw
pierced his stomach and lifted him into the air. Gasping with
pain
Angel tried to pull free of the claw but only slid further down.
He
could feel the cold breath of the demon and for one moment felt the
desire to just let go.
Then he was falling, the claw ripped from his body and the demon
disappeared.
"Idiot, stupid bloody idiot." A familiar voice came from a
distance. Angel rolled over painfully and looked up into clear
blue
eyes just as they faded into darkness.
Grumblings woke Angel up, and he wished he hadn't. He was lying
on
his bed naked from the waist up and wrapped in bandages. Spike
was
sitting next to the bed speculating once again on Angel's parentage.
"Son of a bitch had to have a death wish to not notice the hulking
great
big demon behind him. Stupid tit should have gotten over it by
now,
no reason to be all broody cause I left."
"It was my fault and I'm not broody," Angel said.
The cool hand that had been stroking his forehead pulled back.
"It's always your fault plonker," Spike said as if they were having a
normal conversation, "at least in your head it is, and you did cut all
my
hair off."
Angel felt Spike move away and tried to sit up, "don't go again," he
said
gasping with pain.
"Lie down," Spike said irritably, "I'm just getting you some
blood." A mug was pressed into his hand. As he slowly
sipped
the blood Angel watched Spike potter around the room cleaning up the
bandages.
Spike had managed to find better fitting clothes and was wearing dark
blue jeans, a black tee shirt and a blue shirt unbuttoned over
it.
His hair had grown out but he had not bleached it again. It was
still tamed with gel but remained the natural sable colour Angel
remembered from so long ago.
"I remember everything now," Spike said without turning around, "a lot
of
it is more feelings than thoughts, but I remember you talking to me and
I
remember what we did together."
Angel put his empty mug down carefully and waited.
"I know I wanted to do everything we did and more when I was like that,
but I don't know why you did it. So why Angel, what did you hope
to
get out of it?" Spike finally turned to face Angel.
Angel opened his mouth to answer and then shut it again to think,
"Nothing at first except needing to help. And then your company," he
said, "and finally you. Not the you that was here in the hotel
but
the you from before at Wolfram & Hart. I just keep hoping you
would come back to me."
Angel lay back wearily waiting for the mocking to begin.
"Well I did," was the gruff reply. There was the oh-so familiar
weight on the bed next to him, but he didn't dare move. "How you
feeling?" Spike said.
"Sore," Angel confessed. Fingers ghosted over his face and
chest.
"Why didn't you dust me or just leave me there?" The quiver at
the
fingertips gave away how much Angel's answer mattered.
"I couldn't, you were helpless and confused," Angel said and the
fingers
stilled, "and then I didn't want to. You were too important to
me."
"Were?"
"Are and always will be," Angel finally opened his eyes to look up into
Spike's curious and wary ones.
"I remember fear and cold, and always running," Spike kept his gaze on
Angel, "then I remember warmth and safety, and it was you. It was
good to be safe and wanted, but I don't remember kissing," Spike
said.
"I didn't think you wanted to," Angel replied as Spike's mouth moved
closer to his.
"Didn't know I wanted to until now," Spike said and closed the distance
between them. Angel lay passive unable to believe that Spike was
kissing him. Worried that Spike would think he wasn't enjoying it
Angel parted his lips and let his tongue slip out to touch tentatively
on
Spike's softness.
Spike sighed and let Angel's tongue inside his mouth. Then the
kiss
wasn't soft anymore. It was hot and passionate and an attempt by
both of them to tell the other how they felt without the words that so
often came between them.
Then Spike was naked and curled up beside him on the bed. It hurt
too much to move, but Angel managed to lift up one arm and bring Spike
in
closer.
"This I remember," Spike said.
And Angel knew that things would be alright now. They weren't
alone
anymore.
THE END