Masks
 
Author: Lilithangel
 
Email: abchainey@xtra.co.nz
 
Website: www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
 
Fandom: AtS
 
Characters: Spike/Angel
 
Genre: Hurt/comfort vague slash, pure fluff really.
 
Rating/Warnings: PG13 contains descriptions of violence.
 
Summary:  written for the Batpack October challenge Masks and Tamingthemuse Prompt #17 Fathers Day.  Since the parasite incident in Soul Purpose Angel finds himself searching for that escape once more.
 
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Everyone wears masks to hide what they are afraid they are.  Put it on before you leave the house wrap yourself up in illusion.  Which is my mask?  The human face they say is handsome and then try to destroy, or the monster behind the skin, is that Liam's mask?  If I peel them both away what will be there beneath the blood and bone?  If I keep peeling away the masks will I find the monster or the man?
 
Spike smelt the blood before he saw the body.  Rich and metallic it called to him and made his demon howl.  Fighting the desire as he always fought it Spike made his way through the debris of the warehouse not certain what he would find.
 
Over in a corner he saw a huddle of leather where the smell of blood was the strongest.  He knew the blood recognised it easily despite his denial of the link between them.
 
He had ignored Angel's disappearance to begin with arguing it was not his problem.  He wasn't an employee of Wolfram & Hart and he didn't give a toss about the big pouf anyway.  But Fred had turned those pleading eyes of doom on him so he went hunting.
 
Found out that Angel frequented some very interesting joints on his nights off.  The ballet and the opera, them Spike had expected.  The underground fight club was a surprise but not as much as the small designer boutique hidden behind a brace of warehouses.  This was the kind of place that promised sweet oblivion for a price.  Any drug, chemical or magical could be purchased by demon or human with a thick wallet.
 
Spike hadn't got any answer straight away, with a rather thin wallet he had been forced to resort to hard fists and enthusiastic staking.  The smell of Angel's blood in the back room had encouraged Spike's fists.  He didn't mind spilling Angel's blood himself but drew the line at some slimy shop keeper doing it.
 
It appeared that Angel had come looking for something to let him escape.  Seemed that his time under that parasite had given him a hunger for escape until someone had decided to give the CEO of Wolfram & Hart something special.
 
The shopkeeper claimed he was forced to look the other way but Spike could smell how much he had enjoyed bringing Angel down.  So Spike brought him down and enjoyed every struggle.
 
Then he had followed the scent of blood and drugs to this grimy little hole to be faced with something he didn't want to face.  He rolled Angel over and nearly vomited with shock.
 
The skin on Angel's face was hanging in blood ribbons the once handsome features almost completely gone.  Spike shock off the handsome thought preferring to concentrate on what had happened and why.  Angel's fingernails were torn and bloody and Spike knew then how the damage had been done.
 
Angel's eyes opened and focused on Spike.  Then he started screaming.  Spike winced at the sound and tried to calm Angel but only succeeded in causing the dark vampire to start flailing at him.
 
Spike cursed and stopped the flailing with one well placed punch.  He almost regretted it when Angel went down so easily but couldn't help the small thrill he always got getting one over on his elder.
 
He bundled Angel up and carried the larger vampire to the viper waiting outside.  For a brief moment he was reminded of the times he carried Drusilla the same way, but he ruthlessly tamped down the memories and buckled Angel into the passenger seat.
 
He took Angel directly to the penthouse using the card and code he had stolen weeks before.  Big places like Wolfram & Hart were all the same, once you were in nobody asked how or why.  Spike liked that about corporations, that and the stationery cupboards.
 
Placing Angel onto the big arse bed Spike took a moment to look at the elder vampire without any one watching him and finally without Angel being aware of the scrutiny.
 
Angel looked tired and worn even in a drugged up state still bloody handsome despite it.  Spike let all his masks fall in the solitude of Angel's room looking down at the creature that had been the centre of his existence for so long.  Even after decades apart he was still drawn to Angel's orbit as unable to help himself anymore than he had with Buffy.
 
As Angel began to stir Spike slipped off his jacket and started stripping Angel of his ruined clothes.  Angel stank of the drugs and the warehouse and other things that Spike didn't consider too closely.
 
Angel swum back to consciousness as Spike rolled him bodily across the room into the shower.  Angel started to splutter as the still cold water poured over him but Spike easily kept the larger vampire under the spray as he thrashed in protest.
 
"Shut it," Spike said with a growl, "what the bloody hell were you thinking?"  Angel's reply was lost in the volume of water Spike aimed at his head.  "You stink mate so shut up and let me wash it off."
 
Spike poured a lavish amount into his hand of whatever it was in the bottle he grabbed.  It smelt of flowers and spices as he expected it to and he rubbed it into Angel's hair then roughly into the still resisting body.
 
"Wash yourself properly," Spike threw a cloth at Angel, "I ain't touching anywhere lower."  Angel weakly obeyed the water bringing him back to himself a bit.
 
Spike stepped back and let Angel rinse off.  The edges of his tee shirt were wet from the shower but he was not prepared to remove it around Angel.
 
Satisfied that Angel was as clean as he was going to get Spike turned the shower off and tossed a towel at the recumbent vampire.  Angel didn't even flinch when the towel covered his head and Spike realised the dark vampire had collapsed unconscious again.
 
Not wanting to be wetter than he already was Spike did pull his tee shirt off before he attempted to dry Angel off a bit in the shower.  Rolling Angel out of the shower Spike tossed a few extra towels on top of him to avoid any chance of being accused of sexually molesting him.
 
Angel started to shiver as Spike dried him off and the blond could smell the drugs working out of his system.  Spike was at a complete loss as to what would have driven the dark vampire to such a state.  Sure the poof had gone through some shit recently but he was normally so good at depriving himself that this binge was way out of character even for a split personality like Angel.
 
Spike slung the bigger vampire over his shoulder and carefully ignored the half erection prodding into his chest.  Who knew what wacked out fever dreams the poof was having.
 
He tossed Angel onto the bed and covered the shivering frame with a blanket then cursed when the shivering didn't ease up.  He climbed on top of the vampire and started rubbing vigorously. 
 
Angel's eyes snapped open but remained unfocused.  "Won't let you take him."  He tried to buck Spike off and succeeded in making the blond land on top of him.
 
"Wanted to keep him safe everything was to keep him safe," Angel whispered.
 
"You did a good job mate," Spike climbed carefully off Angel and headed for the bar.  He poured himself a large whiskey while he waited for blood to heat up.  A part of him wanted to just leave Angel to sweat it out alone another part really wanted to know what the hell Angel was talking about.
 
Taking the warmed blood back into the bedroom Spike found Angel lying just as he had left him.  Spike was struck again by the damage Angel had managed to inflict on his face.  It reminded the blond of what he had done to himself after getting his soul when he tried to claw the spark out of his chest.  Just what Angel thought he was trying to claw away was beyond Spike.
 
With a sigh Spike crawled back onto the bed and lifted Angel's head up.  He slowly dribbled blood into the slack mouth stroking the throat to coax the swallowing reflex just like he used to for Dru when she went too deep into madness.
 
He managed to feed Angel most of a mug of blood and finished the rest himself still stroking Angel's throat absently as he thought about what had happened.  He was startled when Angel sighed and curled up closer to him and his hand moved automatically to run through the still damp hair.
 
"Never get a card or a tacky tie," Angel said.
 
"You what?" Spike asked more confused than ever.
 
"No ballgames or bedtime stories just hate and blood.  The bug thing let me be happy why did you kill it Spike?"
 
Spike was surprised that Angel knew who was there and looked down into eyes clearer than before.  "You were dying mate, couldn't let that happen."
 
"Oh," it was Angel's turn to look surprised.
 
"So that's why this thing then, running away again were you?" Spike felt the familiar anger at Angel rise again.
 
"Just for now, just for that day," Angel's eyes pleaded for Spike to understand.  "I killed him and let them take him away."
 
Spike couldn't understand where the feelings of compassion for Angel were coming from but he had a strong desire to make it better.
 
"Plonker, you told me yourself we can't escape our destiny and you should know by now you can't run away."  Spike brushed away the trail of tears from Angel's face.
 
Angel started to shake again and Spike recognised the signs of withdrawal.  With another sigh Spike settled in for a long night.
 
Three bouts of hallucinations and convulsions later Spike was regretting his choice to help Angel.  He was sporting a black eye from one wild swing his only consolation was breaking Angel's nose.  That wasn't as enjoyable as he had thought it would be however.
 
He had managed to force another mug of blood down Angel heavily laced with whiskey.  Spike had no idea whether that was a good idea but he just wanted Angel to stop shaking.
 
Slowly Angel's scent was changing as the drugs were absorbed and broken up in the same way as the blood was.  Angel kept muttering more weird things about socks and ties and fathers killing sons.  Whatever was going on in Angel's head was too much for Spike so he had stopped worrying about it.  He was pretty sure he could bluff Angel into explaining everything when his elder was sober again.
 
Spike was tired so when Angel did finally stop shaking it was all he could do to pull a blanket over them both.
 
Angel woke during the night disoriented and in pain.  Somehow he had gotten back from the supplier.  He remembered the longing for escape being quickly overcome by fear and hatred of his own face.  Now he was in his own bed surrounded by the scent of family.  Fragmented memories of Spike washing him and feeding him and stroking his hair while he cried seemed somehow okay in the darkness of his bedroom.
 
In the morning the masks would go back into place.  They would hate each other again but for a few hours at least Angel let someone else take care of him and Spike let himself care.  They say you cannot pick your family but vampires can.
 
END
 
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