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
SIX
Spike froze.
He was so completely terrified that he thought his heart was going to
start beating.
"You've led me a merry chase," the rich voice - definitely Angelus',
with its long-lost hint of an Irish accent - was still purring.
Big hands slid over his exposed stomach, then up his shirt to trace his
prominent ribs.
"William - look what they've done to you. You're so
thin..." Cool lips brushed against his throat and he finally
snapped out of his frozen stupor.
He jerked away from those oddly protective arms and stared at Angelus,
who gazed back at him with warm, hungry amber eyes. For the first
time in a long time, Spike didn't bother with threats or insults.
His own eyes flicked over the crowd behind his Sire, easily picking out
Penn, Lucinda, and Daniel. They had modern clothes and haircuts,
but he'd know their faces anywhere. They were burned into his
memory.
Another tingle blazed up his vertebrae, and he turned sharply, to see
Dru making her way through the crowd. Damn it all, if she was
here, Deborah and Tomas probably were, too. He was massively
outnumbered.
...not that it had ever stopped him before.
"William, lad, don't even try it," Angelus rumbled, apparently reading
his mind.
Spike snorted. Like he'd ever listened to his Sire before!
He dodged the big hand that grabbed for him, darting away through the
crowd. He didn't know how they had tracked him down, and with all of
them here he probably didn't have a chance of escaping, but bloody
hell! He'd never been one to sit passively by while others took control
of him and he damn well wasn't going to start now!
He ducked into the shadows under one of the open staircases that led up
to the club's balcony, snatching a skull cap off an oblivious patron
who was in the middle of a heated kiss. He yanked the black knit
down over his glaringly white hair.
That might throw them off for, oh, ten seconds.
Good thing he wasn't wearing his duster, after all. There was no
way they would miss that - and no way he would have left it behind,
either.
He slid behind a concrete pillar, sharp blue eyes tracking Angelus as
the older vampire shoved his way through the crowd. He found
Daniel, then Lucinda, with Drusilla hanging on to the blond woman's
hand. Yes, and Deborah was here, too, lurking near the main
entrance.
Oh, shite.
Where was Penn?
Where was Tomas?
Oh, double shite! There went that tingle again!
Spike threw himself to the side, just missing being grabbed by Tomas.
The tall, lean vampire stared solemnly at him, pushing dark hair back
from black eyes. "William - you will come with us," he said
firmly.
"Well," Spike drawled, his eyes darting around for an escape, "if it
ain't Tomas the Ruddy Bookworm. Surprised they got ya outta the
library. Musta hid all the porn." Tomas was smart, and
fast, but he had a short temper; if Spike could get him angry enough,
he'd just start lunging at him. Easy to get away, then.
To his surprise, Tomas just smiled at him. "That's not going to
work, Little One. You're coming home with us. It's where
you belong."
"Sure it is," Spike snarked, "and don't call me that."
"Why not?" Tomas stepped closer. "You're our youngest one, aren't
you? Our Sire's last Childe? That makes you our baby."
Spike gaped at him for a moment, struck speechless.
"Baby?!" he finally managed, outraged. "'M a bloody Master, mate
- you and Dru can be Daddy's little suck-ups! Let her be your
damn baby! Just go away and leave me outta your fucked up lives!"
"We can't do that, William. There are too many things that you
need to know. Too many things we never taught you. And
you're ours - we want you, Little One. So stop running away from
us."
"Not likely," Spike spat, "remember the kinda things you used ta
'teach' me. Not innerested in you breakin' my fingers one at a
time and tellin' me you're teachin' me how ta slow torture a victim."
Tomas' eyes went dark and sad. "Little One - I'll never do
anything like that to you again. Please, believe me."
"Not likely," Spike repeated. He'd been retreating all this time,
with Tomas doggedly following. "Be a bloody fool if I believed
you."
"Then I suppose we'll just have to show you," another voice murmured,
and arms closed around him again.
Not Angelus.
Penn.
"Shite!" Spike immediately began to struggle, wonder why he hadn't
sensed Penn at all. Prolly 'cause Tomas was still making his
nerve ends tingle.
Malnourished he might be, his strength low from existing on starvation
rations, but Penn was still hard pressed to keep hold of him. The
older vampire was vastly relieved when Angelus appeared in front of
them.
"Good job," he praised Penn and Tomas, then turned his attention to
Spike. "William - Little One, stop fighting."
"Won't," Spike snarled, slamming the heel of his boot against Penn's
shin. The older vampire yelped.
Angelus frowned. "William, stop hurting your Brother. He's
not hurting you."
"Not yet. An' 'e bloody well's not my brother, either!" Spike
said hotly, still twisting hard in an attempt to get free.
"Laddie, you're going to hurt yourself," Angelus replied, noticing that
Penn's tight grip, while necessary, was raising bruises on Spike's pale
arms.
"Better me than you!"
"I am not going to..." Angelus paused, then sighed, knowing his
reassurances were being ignored. "William. If you'll just
come with us, you'll see that..."
"Not. Going. Any. Where. With. You." Spike rolled his eyes. "Came
here for a reason, didn't I? Feel a mite peckish. Go away
an' let me get my dinner."
Angelus frowned. "I thought you couldn't feed off humans?"
"Can't." Spike's blue eyes glittered with malice. "Gotta buy
bagged."
"You have no money," Penn said slowly, "Are you... stealing from the
people here?"
Spike was concentrating on getting his right hand free. Just one
hand, that's all he needed... "What? and have 'em beat the hell outta
me if they catch me? Not bloody likely, mate."
"I don't understand." Angelus' voice was low and wary. His other
Childer, all gathered by now, were frowning.
Spike didn't notice - or care. "Use your bleedin' brain,
Peaches! Why risk stealin' when I can earn dinner in about ten
minutes?"
Angelus' face was set now, his eyes turning gold. "How?"
Spike looked up at the single, clipped word. Caution told him to
shut the hell up, but anger, as usual, kept his mouth going. "How
ya think, Peaches? Ought ta know what kinda club this is. Need me
ta draw ya a piccie?"
He did shut up when Angelus' hand shot out and wrapped around his
throat. Not tightly, not hurting, but forcing him to look
straight into the furious demon's eyes. "Never again."
"So what, I starve?" Spike managed to get the words out despite the
fingers around his neck. "Chip can't be got out, mate, already
tried."
"We'll take care of you now, William." Angelus' voice was suddenly
soothing. His free hand pulled the knit cap from Spike's head and
tossed it on the floor. He leaned closer, turning his Childe's
head to the side and gently scenting his throat. "Our Little One."
Spike twisted desperately. "Don't! 'M not your fuckin'
Little One! Get away from me!"
"I won't keep arguing with you, Childe," his Sire purred. "If you
won't stop fighting, I'll have to take you out of this disgusting hovel
another way."
Lips brushed his throat.
"No!"
Teeth touched his skin.
"No! Angel!"
Fangs.
Spike whimpered.
The others watched as Angelus gently drained his Childe until Spike
went limp in Penn's embrace. Then their Sire eased him out of his
First Childe's arms and into his own. He wasn't unconscious - his
sapphire eyes were open, but dazed.
"Never again," Angelus told his other Childer, holding Spike
close. His youngest's blond head settled into the crook of his
neck and Angelus gave a soft sigh of pleasure. "No one ever
touches him again," he repeated, his voice pitched so low only they
could hear it. "Only us. Only family."
"Yes, Sire," Penn spoke for all of them.
"...n't...you...either..." Spike murmured, too weak to struggle but
never too weak to talk.
Angelus grinned. "Don't worry, my Little One - nothing that you
won't like."
Spike snorted faintly.
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted, "but I believe I have an appointment
with that particular blond?"
The vampires turned as one, seven pairs of amber-flecked eyes settling
on a tall, slim man in an impeccable suit. He was perfectly
groomed, from his neat grey hair to his shiny black shoes. He
would have looked ridiculously out of place in the tawdry club - if it
wasn't for the gleam of hunger in his eyes.
"I think you're mistaken," Penn said calmly, shifting to stand in front
of Angelus and Spike.
"I am certain I am not - we agreed, last night, that he'd be mine for
the evening."
"His is ours," Angelus rumbled dangerously, "he is mine. Find
yourself different company."
"I'm afraid that is unacceptable. I've been looking forward to
that delicious boy all day," the man said, sniffing haughtily. He
made a small gesture, and three hulking bodyguards moved from the
shadows to flank him.
All of Angelus' family - except Spike, who was fighting sleep - scented
the air cautiously, then began to smile.
All four of them were pure human.
"Penn," Angelus purred, "why don't you and Daniel take care of this
gentleman? Show him what happens to someone foolish enough to try
and take what isn't theirs." He shifted Spike carefully,
gathering him up into his arms and cradling him against his
chest. "Come to the hotel when you're through playing."
"Yes, Sire. Thank you," Penn replied, his voice rich and smooth -
and deadly. He and Daniel moved to block the three bodyguards
when they would have intercepted Angelus, leaving their Sire to walk
freely from the club, carrying his prize. Lucinda and Deborah
followed, each with an arm through one of Tomas', while Drusilla lagged
along behind them, gazing wistfully over her shoulder at the bloody
mayhem.
"Daddy..."
"You can play some other time, Princess," Angelus laughed back, "for
now, let's get our boy home."
"All right..." she pouted, and followed them into the night.