TITLE: Guardian Angel
AUTHOR: Lysia
EMAIL: lysias_fanfic@yahoo.co.uk
RATING: 18/NC-17 depending where you live.
WARNING: NASTY/ANGST FIC! Contains torture, prostitution, rape,
slavery and very very hurt Spike. Bless!
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. Characters are property of Joss Whedon.
SPOILERS: Starts off in B:TVS S4 'Pangs' and A:TS S1 'I Will Remember
You', skips through to 'Primeval' on much the same lines, then goes
off on a huge tangent into the murky realms of AU. (see chronolgy)
ARCHIVING: Nowhere at the moment, but I would be honoured if anyone
requested it. Feel free to do so.
PAIRING: Spike/Angel plus some extra minor pairings.
NOTES: Answer to April Challenge and plot bunny on 'Our Armageddon':
http://www.shibbybitch.net/ourarmageddon/plotbunnies.html "Angel
stayed human in I Will Remember You, but he and Buffy doesn't work
out somehow, and he flees the country with Wesley in tow. In the
meantime, Spike escapes The Initiative, and leaves Sunnydale,
embarrassed by his disability to kill and maim. The two meets up in
some strange country... From there on... *shrug* - ???"

CHRONOLOGY

NOVEMBER 1999 – Angel becomes human through the regenerative blood of
a demon. Buffy and Angel resume their romance. Spike is chipped.
MAY 2000 – The Initiative is destroyed. Buffy moves to LA with Angel.
Spike disappears.
2004 PRESENT DAY – Buffy leaves Angel, Angel moves to Europe.

CHAPTER 3

SUNNYDALE, MAY 2000: INITIATIVE MILITARY BASE – ROOM 314

Angel felt a sudden jolt, like waking after a dream of falling, as he
returned to his body. He glanced around and his surroundings fell
back into place. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Room
314, forming part of a circle that also consisted of Willow, Giles
and Xander. A selection of Tarot cards were spread out in the centre
of the circle: 'the Hands', 'the Spirit', 'the Mind', 'the Heart',
and, in front of Angel 'the Lovers'.

The spell had been the most powerful magical force he had ever
experienced. His head was still ringing. Every inch of his skin was
still humming from the immense combined power of the group of them.
The others were clearly no less amazed.

"Wow," Willow gasped, staring around, stunned. "That was..."

Her exclamation was silenced as the door crashed open. The barricade
was dashed to pieces and a huge hair-covered demon burst through,
growling ferociously... only to have its neck snapped as Spike leapt on
its back and gave its skull a vicious twist.

The demon collapsed on to the floor in a heap.

"Nasty sort of fellow," Spike declared, gesturing towards the
demon. "Lucky for you blighters I was here, eh?"

Angel scowled at Spike, irritated by his bouncy nature and self-
assured cockiness. "Didn't think you'd dare show your face here
again, Spike," he spat at the vampire.

"Indeed," Giles agreed. "I'm afraid, Spike, your heroism is rather
muted by the fact that you were helping Adam start a war that would
kill us all."

A look of guilt crossed Spike's face, but not guilt like the kind of
remorse that Angel suffered every time something from his past – like
this blood-sucking bleached pest standing in front of him now –
reminded him of his crimes. Spike's guilt was like that of a child
caught stealing a biscuit before tea. 'He really takes it that
lightly,' Angel thought bitterly.

Xander gave Spike a knowing glare. "You probably just saved us so we
wouldn't stake you right here," he concluded.

Spike looked round at them hopefully. "Did it work?"

Angel resisted the urge to reply to the negative. He knew he wouldn't
be able to stake Spike, much as he wanted to. He had created this
monster. He had taken the life of an innocent, shy young man and
replaced his gentle soul with the demon who was now standing before
him. No matter how evil or annoying Spike was, Angel couldn't bring
himself to kill him. It was agonisingly frustrating.

Silently, he got to his feet, as did the others, while Spike babbled
merrily.

"Well, then everything's all right.  And we all get to be not staked
through the heart.  Good work, team."

"Shut up Spike," Angel snapped.

"Oh well hark at mister bloody misery guts," Spike drawled. "You
know, one day Angel you're gonna remember that you and me are on the
same side. We're two of a kind, and some day..."

Spike was silenced as the door to Adam's lair opened and Buffy
clambered through. A buzz of excitement filled the room as the
friends gathered around. Buffy embraced Angel and kissed him, and
Angel felt his heart flutter. His heart never used to flutter when he
was a vampire, and he loved this new sensation. The Scoobies were
practically bouncing with enthusiasm as they congratulated each other
and themselves.

Angel noticed an Initiative solder exit Adam's lair and loiter
awkwardly by a wall, eying him disapprovingly. Angel recognised the
man as Riley Finn, a college lad who had had his eye on Buffy until
Angel regained his humanity and returned to Sunnydale. It was clear
that Finn didn't like Angel much, and Angel didn't hold him in
particularly high regard either.

Finn shattered the celebratory atmosphere by reminding them of the
continuing battle. "We've still got men out there."

Spike jumped up, eager for a fight. "Well let's go save 'em, by gum!"

Angel glowered at Spike and Riley, neither of them his favourite
people. "Yeah," he muttered, "those poor innocent Government
operatives who started this whole thing in the first place."

"They're still human, Angel," Buffy reminded him. She smiled
slightly. "Like you."

Those two words warmed his heart and a grin spread over his face. She
kissed him, then turned to her friends.

"You guys get to the exits, I'll get them open." She glanced to
Riley. "You, organise the soldiers. Pull them back. I'll take point."

Giving Angel's hand an affectionate squeeze before letting it slip
from her grasp, she headed for the door. Willow fell in line behind
her.

"Are you up to this?" Willow asked her.

"I am," Buffy replied, striding out onto the battle field.

Riley slunk out as quickly as possible and the rest of the Scoobies
followed. Spike turned to leave, but Angel grabbed him by the collar.

"Let me make one thing clear, Spike," he hissed, taking great joy in
threatening a vampire while he himself was human. "When this battle
is done, you don't come near Buffy or her friends again. They seem to
make the mistake of trusting you, but don't think I don't know
exactly what you're like. Don't you dare cause any trouble again. If
you do, I will do everything in my power to convince Buffy to cut
your useless head off."

Spike smirked and grinned at him. "Why? Too chicken to do it
yourself?"

"No, Spike," Angel sighed, shaking his head. "You see, unlike you I
respect the family bond. I wouldn't stake a Childe. So how about you
repay that by respecting your Sire and doing what you're told?"

The reaction he got was not what he expected: Spike laughed. He flung
his head back and howled with peals of hysterical glee.

"And what makes you think," he demanded, still chuckling, "you have
any right to call yourself my Sire?"

Angel went cold and his grip on Spike's collar weakened. With little
effort, Spike wrenched himself free and took a few steps back.

"You haven't been a Sire to me since you got your pesky soul," he
declared. "You abandoned me for a century; you sided with the Slayer
and waged war against me; even when you lost your soul you treated me
like shit scraped off your boot. And now you have the... the..." He
spluttered in outrage for the right word. "... the fucking audacity to
tell me that I have to respect you 'cos you're my Sire. Well bugger
that! You're not my Sire. You're just some... human!" The final word
was spat out like a vile taste.

With that, Spike gave Angel one last look of disgust and walked out
of Room 314, up the corridor and out of Angel's life forever, leaving
Angel with an unpleasant sinking feeling...

*       *       *

AMSTERDAM, PRESENT DAY

Angel scribbled a second address down on his notepad as he lay on the
sofa in the small but nicely furnished flat Wesley had found for them
during their stay in the Netherlands. After recovering from his
slight hangover, Angel had thrown himself into his search for Spike.
It had occurred to him that he could just hang around the same
streets again in the hope of Spike re-emerging from an alley as he
had done last night, but not only did he suspect that the odds of
Spike being in the exact same place again were very low, he also
found the research pleasantly distracting.

His own problems were not ones that could be solved through any
amount of thought or planning. They would simply go away with time,
if he was lucky. Spike's, however, could be solved. By Angel. And,
rather conveniently, by occupying his thoughts with research and
planning for some sort of rescue, Angel was no longer dwelling on how
much he missed Buffy.

Somehow, Angel felt like he owed Spike this. He recalled their last
meeting, back in Sunnydale four years ago, with a shame that had not
surfaced until he had allowed himself to recollect the events free
from the anger he felt towards his Childe at the time. He knew he had
treated Spike dreadfully in the past, neglecting him and abusing him
so badly that, as Spike had stated, he had no right to call himself a
Sire.

Upon gaining a soul, Angel had been too ashamed of his own demonic
nature, let alone the unrestrained viciousness of his Childer. He
couldn't stay, and left without offering explanation. He had fought
against Spike and Drusilla when love for Buffy and desire to do good
had blinded him to the family ties he felt with them. But Angelus –
the Sire whose return Spike had first celebrated and then mourned –
was the worst. Driven insane by a century of captivity, Angelus was
far too obsessed with revenge against the Slayer to bother paying his
crippled Childe any attention at all. Instead, he had stolen Drusilla
away from him and ignored Spike for the majority of the time, except
when taunting him or beating him up for fun.

No wonder Spike hated him.

It was only now, as a human, that Angel was in a state of mind that
allowed him to see, understand and partake of his duties as a Sire.
The role was supposed to be that of a vampire, but Angel's feelings
drove him to continue regardless. His body may be human, but his mind
and memories were a conglomeration of many aspects. He was not Liam.
He was Angel, and he was still Spike's Sire.

He barely looked up from his reading as Wesley staggered in with an
armful of carrier bags.

"I decided to buy us some food," Wesley explained, panting slightly
as he wrestled the door closed and tried to place the carrier bags on
a table without dropping anything. "It's mainly dry products so it
won't go off quickly. This should keep us going for about a month."

He glanced over to Angel, who still hadn't moved, but who appeared to
be engrossed in a book.

"Ah you're concentrating, not hung over, I see," he announced, moving
closer and peering at the book with curiosity. "Well that's a relief.
What are you reading?"

Angel kept silent, preferring not to answer, but Wesley read the
title from the top of one of the pages. The stony pause that followed
conveyed Wesley's disappointment before he even uttered his next
sentence.

"Amsterdam Guide to Massage Parlours? Oh Angel, please don't tell me
you're..."

"Don't worry, that's not the point of this," Angel replied,
scribbling down one more address and closing the book.

"Glad to hear it," Wesley sighed, eyeing the book's lewd cover with
distaste as he took a seat next to Angel. "So may I ask why you are
reading it?"

"I saw Spike last night," Angel explained flatly.

"In a massage parlour?" Wesley asked incredulously.

"No, out on the street," Angel replied. He gave Wesley a sad look
which conveyed everything the former Watcher needed to know.

Wesley nodded silently, his eyes wide, and waited for Angel to
continue.

Angel stood up and walked over to the window, scanning the city. He
wondered where Spike was now. He shoved his hands in his pockets and
banished the unpleasant thoughts from his mind, focussing on the task
in hand.

"He disappeared down an alley, dragged off by some thug in a military
uniform. I followed them but he must have disappeared into one of the
buildings. Now, I wouldn't be surprised if the army guy is linked to
the Initiative, which means they must be running some kind of brothel
down there renting out chipped demons to humans who like... getting one
over on something stronger than they are. It's probably advertised
as 'alternative taste' or something. I've gone through the guide and
found three places backing onto that alley that list themselves
as 'alternative'. Now all I have to do is check them out, find Spike
and get him out of there."

Wesley stared at Angel in disbelief. "Angel," he began, rubbing his
brow as he tried to make sense of Angel's ludicrous idea. "Why? Why
on earth would you want to rescue Spike? He's a murderer. He's killed
thousands of innocent men, women and children."

"So have I," Angel replied flatly. "And one of them was Spike."

"But you show remorse," Wesley explained. "You pay for your crimes
through guilt – a human emotion. That's what separates humans from
demons. He feels nothing for what he's done, and frankly anything
he's going through now is the least he deserves for his crimes."

Angel shook his head sadly. Agonisingly, he could understand Wesley's
point, but nothing could compete with the intense urge to find his
Childe. He got to his feet and walked over to the large window of the
flat that overlooked the grey, rain-soaked Amsterdam streets. Oddly,
he didn't miss the dry spell with its bright sunlight and warm days.
It didn't seem appropriate for his suffering, or that of the vampire
he was going to save. It was as though the city had gone into
mourning for both of them.

Holding his hands to his head, as if attempting to pluck his feelings
out of his brain with his fingertips and weave the strange, illogical
emotions into words so he could justify his actions to Wesley, he
began his vain attempt to explain.

"You don't understand, Wes," he sighed. "I made him. It's my fault
Spike's a killer. I took his life, destroyed his soul and I put a
demon in its place. I'm his Sire, and for most of his life I've been
a bad one. I've ignored him. I've neglected him. I've hurt him. I've
fought him. I've done everything except what I'm supposed to do, and
for once in my long, miserable life I actually feel like I want to be
a Sire for demon I made, maybe even redeem him."

"Look, Angel," Wesley explained slowly, cautious so as not to upset
Angel. "I realise the nature of the relationship of a vampire with a
Sire. I know how you must feel compelled to rescue and protect Spike,
but you must listen to reason. You're not a vampire any more. You're
human."

"I still feel the bond though," Angel replied. "When I looked at him
I felt it, and it would kill me not to try and do something about it."

"Yes, you may still feel it," Wesley agreed, "but can you be sure
that Spike will?"

Angel turned and stared at Wesley at the terrifying thought. How
ironic it would be, he mused, that the day he decides to act as a
Sire to the Childe he rejected, his Childe decided to reject him.

"Just ask yourself this, Angel," Wesley appealed, the mournful tone
of his voice showing that he was not taking any joy in saying
this. "Are you doing this because you genuinely want to help Spike,
or because you need to help yourself?" I realise that you're hurting
and that rescuing Spike will give you something to take your mind off
your pain, but you will have to be aware that he may not need you to
be the Sire that you want to be. You're not like him. What if you
rescue him and he just decides that he doesn't want a human for a
Sire. Could you take that?"

Silence for a moment, then Angel shrugged. "Guess I'd  have to," he
answered resolutely, "because I'm rescuing him from that place,
whether he accepts me as his Sire or not."

TBC...