FAMILY

AUTHOR: Little Mouse (elf_night@hotmail.com)

DISCLAIMER: Once again, Joss', not mine. Still a lucky man.

WARNINGS: For explicit m/m stuff, and violence, and remembered abuse, and language, and lots of other stuff.

ARCHIVE: Please ask first.

SUMMARY: AU! Spike isn't in 'love' with Buffy, but has told Giles' the story of Drusilla turning him. He has the chip, but no soul. Angel's in LA. Anya doesn't exist. I moved forward the 'meltdown' of Spike's chip a bit.

STORY: Spike's little story of his turning isn't the exact truth... Angel loses his soul - or does he? and starts gathering his scattered family. Spike insists that isn't going to include him. He's so very, very wrong...



CHAPTER TWELVE

It always surprised Angelus - no matter how many times he came here - that there was no transition, no journey to get to Ariel’s dimension.  You just opened the book, and bam! there you were, in that world of mist and light.

William wasn’t having seizures here, his Sire was relieved to see.  He was sitting on the invisible floor, bottom half shrouded in mist, his curly head bent forward while Ariel knelt behind him, her beautiful face intent as she ran her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.  She didn’t look up when he appeared - William tried to, but her delicate fingers held him firmly in place.

“You’re hurting him,” Angelus said sharply, not waiting for her to speak.

She immediately let go of William, and Angelus shuddered when he realized that her fingers had been sliding into William’s skull, not through his hair like he’d first thought.

“What do you mean, I’m hurting him?” Ariel’s silvery eyes turned toward him; William’s blue ones did, too.

“She’s not, either,” William protested.

“Maybe not here,” Angelus tried to keep the stress out of his voice, but he didn’t manage it, “Out there - you’re hurting him badly.”

“Wouldn’t she know?” his Childe demanded, the look on his face telling Angelus that he suspected some trick.

He sighed.  He knew William had no reason to instantly start trusting him, but it hurt to have his Childe so wary, so suspicious of every little thing he did.

“No,” Ariel answered William’s question, stroking his hair and smiling down at his upturned face.  “I’m a Guardian, not a goddess; I am not all-knowing.  I didn’t know that - that monstrosity was in your sweet head, did I?”

“Sweet?”  William laughed up at her.  “Definitely not all-knowin’, luv, if you think I’m sweet!”

“Your Sire thinks you’re sweet,” she replied, twinkling eyes darting back and forth between them.


*


“What’s taking so long?” Drusilla asked fretfully, starting to cry as she watched her prince continue to shake in Penn’s arms, blood leaking from his ears and nose now.

Deborah and Daniel both wrapped their arms around her.

“Father will be as quick as he can,” Deborah soothed, and wished she knew that it was true.


*


“Peaches is a fruitcake, luv,” Spike laughed, “so what he thinks doesn’t count.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ariel hummed thoughtfully, her eyes laughing at him even though her face was serious.

Spike quickly changed the subject, glad that he couldn’t blush.  “So what’s goin’ on out there, then?  How would you know if I was hurtin’?” he asked, looking over at Angelus.

“When you go into convulsions and blood is running from your eyes, it’s a fairly good sign that you’re in pain,” Angelus’ fingers were twitching with the desire to snatch his Childe and hold him close, the memory of his flailing body and agonized face far too vivid in his mind.

“Oh, hell,” Spike groaned, distinctly unhappy.  “The damn chip musta been firin’, luv, when ya was checkin’ it out.”

“So, it should have stopped now?” Ariel asked, sounding relieved, which surprised him.  Guardian or not, what did she care if some vampire she’d just met was getting an electric headache?

“The twitchin’ bit, yeah,” Spike grumbled, “so how much longer do I stay here with you?”

“Until you have accepted at least some of the truths I am teaching,” was the prompt reply.

“Why do you want to know?” Angelus had his turn at being suspicious.

“If I can drag it out long enough, I won’t have to...” Spike cut himself off abruptly, realizing he was about to tell Angelus how weak and sick a bad session with the chip left him, or about the vicious headache that was almost as bad as dealing with the chip firing, itself.

“You won’t have to - what?” Now even Ariel sounded suspicious.

“I - uh,” Spike thought frantically, and decided that he’d better tell the truth, just toning it down a little.

Or a lot.

“It leaves me a bit shaky, y’know, when it goes off bad.  Rather not put up with it, s’all.  Stay here long enough, and I’ll be wakin’ up fine.”

Ariel and Angelus exchanged looks, seeming to converse silently.  Then they stepped closer, gave up the silent bit, and began whispering.

“Oi!” Spike protested, jumping up and coming over, “what are ya talkin’ about?”

“William,” Ariel gave Angelus a nod and turned to him, “you Sire will take care of you, but we think you should wake up now.”   

“What?!  Why?” Spike tried not to sound plaintive, “I just told ya that...”

“William,” Angelus interrupted, “I need to see - Penn and Tomas and the others need to see - we need to know what your reaction is like, so we can figure out how to help you.”

“I done told ya,” Spike snarled, “chip can’t be got out!  Why d’ya wanna make me deal with it when there’s nothin’ ya can do?!”

Ariel was frowning.  “William - you’re protesting so over a little shakiness?  Are you telling us the truth?”

Spike wiped off the scowl, trying for just enough innocence to convince them without overdoing it. 

“Well, yeah.  Little shaky, little headache - I just don’t like it.”

Angelus gave up trying to resist his yearnings - Spike had moved close enough that he was able to wrap his arms around him, pulling him tightly against him.  “William - I’ll feed you.  You know how quickly my blood can heal you.  You’ll only feel ill for a moment.”

“No, I don’t want...” Spike tried to wriggle free, but his Sire wasn’t letting him go.

Angelus looked at Ariel again.

The Guardian spirit nodded, her lovely face solemn.  They fully realized that William was downplaying what his reaction truly was, but what the younger vampire didn’t realize - or didn’t care about - was that his body would still be suffering, even if he wasn’t conscious enough to realize it.  Angelus was already horrified over his Child’s physical condition - so thin, with his strength down so far that even now, when he was just a projection of his subconscious, he couldn’t break out of his Sire’s embrace.  Hadn’t even tried to escape, unable to swallow more than a pint at one feeding - he didn’t want his Childe’s body to go through anything else that might be detrimental to his already fragile health.

“I’ve not learned her truths yet,” Spike finally gave up struggling for the moment, looking up at his Sire, “so I can’t go back right now.”

Angelus tried to scowl at him, but the wide-eyed hope on Spike’s face - so much like his William had been as a newborn - left him unable to manage it.  “That’s true, I suppose.”

Now that wicked look of satisfaction; that was pure Spike!

“William,” Ariel spoke suddenly, “do you understand what I said - that some of the vampire clans believe they still have their souls?”

Distracted by Angelus’ doting look, Spike fell for it.  “Yeah, I gue... uh, no!” He realized what he was saying and tried to backpedal.

Too late.

Angelus held back the impulse to howl as the slender body of his Childe vanished from his arms. 

“That was enough of the first lesson to send him back,” Ariel said softly, laying a consoling hand on his arm.  She knew that even if it wasn’t really William, and that Angelus knew that, it was still traumatic for his demon to see its offspring disappear into thin air.  “Now, dear one - let’s teach you something quickly, so you can go and fix him.”


*


Hurt.

Hurt, hurt.

Head full of agony, couldn’t move.

Heard an odd noise - hurt his ears - wanted it to stop.

Pried his eyes open, found blurry faces above him, slowly realized the noise was coming from him.

A low, keening wail of pain.

He tried to stop, but couldn’t.  He just hurt too badly - his whole body ached like he’d been whipped with leather straps - after one of Angelus’ beatings.

His head - bloody hell, his brain felt like it was on fire!  How many times had the chip gone off?!

There were voices, babbling, each word like a shotgun blast through his nervous system.  He managed to change the wail into a sound of protest, pulling his ten-ton heavy arms up until he could get his hands over his ears.

The noise immediately died.

How nice.

His ears were sticky, and he remembered a time when the chip had fired so hard that they had bled.  Lovely.  It had taken days to get over it.  He wasn’t looking forward to that again... damn Ariel, anyway!  Some Guardian!  Wouldn’t even let him stay a bit longer so he wouldn’t have to go through...

“William,” a soft voice spoke, and there was a flash of movement above him, then a bleeding wrist was pressed against his lips, Penn’s strong blood filling his mouth.  Someone shifted his head to a better angle - they were gentle, but he still couldn’t stop a cry of pain.

“Careful!”  Penn’s voice was still a whisper, but had sharp worry in it.

“I’m tryin!”  Lucinda was the one who whispered back.  “I’m sorry!”

“I know,” Penn soothed her a little, tilting his wrist back and forth, trying to help, Spike supposed - because he was having trouble swallowing.

“Father’s awake,” someone else whispered.

“Good,” Penn said, and then another wrist was at his mouth, the taste of Angelus’ blood taking the place of Penn’s.

“Give him to me,” Angelus spoke, making him wince.

“Whisper!” Lucy said quickly, “Noise hurts him, and so does moving him.”

Spike felt thankful to Lucinda for the very first time ever - if he’d been handed over to Angelus,  he was pretty sure the motion would turn him to dust.

Or make him wish it had.

“What happened?” he thought it was Deborah who whispered the words.

“Later,” Angelus said softly, “it’s hard to explain.  William, Childe - please drink.”

Spike was trying - he wanted that blood - but his throat simply wouldn’t work right.  He couldn’t get more than a sip at a time.

“Daddy, let me...” Drusilla’s familiar voice washed over him, then her little hands touched his throat, her voice whispered something strange and magic tingled through him.  He hated magic, but not this time - his throat just seemed to open, and he was gulping the blood instead of choking on it.

“Thank you, Princess,” Angelus sounded like she’d gifted him with virgin blood. 

Spike would have snickered, but he could feel the Sire’s blood easing the pain, and he wasn’t about to stop drinking in order to laugh.

“See if you can move him now,” Angelus was still whispering, and then hands were moving Spike, lifting him from Penn’s arms, his head from Lucinda’s lap, and he whimpered faintly but it didn’t hurt enough to cry out again. 

Then he was in Peaches’ arms, cradled against a broad chest like he was a bleedin’ baby.

He was too tired to protest.

But they were going to pay for this as soon as he felt better!

“Tomas, start researching that place that had him - what was the name?”

“The Initiative.”

“Right.  Find out all you can about them; about this chip.  Penn, Lucy - how would you like to go hunting?”

“For a nice soldier?” Lucinda’s voice managed to drawl the words suggestively even while she whispered.

“Exactly.”  There was no mistaking the smile in Angelus’ voice.

“Daddy, may I play, too?” Drusilla asked softly, suppressed excitement adding a trill to the words.

“If Penn and Lucy say you can, Princess.”

“Of course you can, Dru,” Lucinda laughed.  “You can play the bait.”

“Lovely!” she clapped her hands softly.

Spike almost smiled.  At least he knew Drusilla was completely happy.  That was something, he supposed.

“Deborah, Daniel - call the Watcher.  Invite him over, give him that tea he likes so much.  Tell him you want to share some of that information he’s after.  You know what to do, Debbie.”

“Yes, Father.”  There was delight in her tone, too.

“I’ll be with William if you need me,” and Spike felt Angelus stand; felt himself carried from the room.

“Not a baby,” he managed a thin whisper of his own, letting go of Angelus’ wrist.  “Stop... cartin’ me about...”

“Feeling better, I see,” Angelus beamed down at him, ignoring his words.

Spike glared back, his bloodshot eyes telling his Sire that he still wasn’t healed - vampires’ weren’t supposed to have bloodshot eyes.  Ever.

Angelus, now in his bedroom, went over and carefully laid his youngest on the bed.  He switched on the heating blankets, then stripped, laid down, and pulled the covers over them.  “Can you feed more?” he whispered, gently easing his Little One into his arms.

“No,” Spike said bluntly, but didn’t resist as he was pulled close.

If he was better by tomorrow, he was going to swear at his Family until their ears bled, blast them with the worst music he could find, and get so hyper on sugar that they would have to tie him down.

Tonight, he just wanted to sleep.

He could always dream about tomorrow...