Part 9:
"Then I do not understand what 'Most Favored' means," Illyria finished, sipping at her own tea calmly.
"Ask him," Spike said, his voice suddenly tense, as he inclined his head towards the kitchen door behind him.
The others looked up to find Angel leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, as he observed them at the table. He straightened up and entered the room, moving to the fridge and retrieving two bags of blood from it. He placed both in the microwave and set it before replying.
"Most Favored means just that; the favorite of a Sire's Childer, probably his intended heir, and sometimes his intended companion through eternity."
The microwave dinged at that moment, and Angel turned away to retrieve the warmed blood, emptying each bag into a mug, then turning to set one in front of Spike, beside his cup of tea, before taking his own seat at the table.
Wesley and Gunn stared first at Angel, whose face was partially obscured by his own mug momentarily, to Spike, whose gaze was focused downward, both clearly fascinated by Angel's answer, and curious about Spike's response. Illyria's face stayed pinned upon Angel, as though the ramifications of his answer either hadn't occurred, or held little significance to her.
"You did not turn Spike initially?" she asked.
Angel shook his head. "Drusilla did, my Childe. I was frankly amazed when she brought him home so. complete. She'd tried to turn others before, but never with any success. She'd been mewling for days before that, though, saying the stars were whispering to her about a new brother, a prince..."
Angel stared off into the distance for a minute.
"Funny, I didn't remember that in conjunction with Spike's turning until just now," he added with a note of wonder in his voice. "She must have seen that William wasn't destined to remain her Childe, but instead to become a sibling."
He shook the thought off, turning his attention back to Illyria.
"At any rate, William was always more of a brother than a Childe to Dru. She needed to be taken care of, and he did that, right from the very first."
Angel smiled and shook his head at the memory.
"He adored her, and she adored him."
Spike snorted, his face still turned downward.
"She adored her Daddy. I was just the one who picked up the pieces when Angelus took her apart."
Angel's smile disappeared abruptly.
"You're right, that's exactly what I did," he agreed quietly. "Even as an unsouled demon, you retained much more of your humanity than I ever did, more than most of the vampires I've known, for that matter. Even Dru, as broken as she was, was an exquisite example of wickedness. You."
Angel looked off toward the distance, as though seeing far back in the past.
"You were so wildly exuberant, so."
"I was a cold-blooded killer," Spike finished flatly, looking down at the blood in his mug.
"You were what I made you," Angel corrected gruffly, "As was Dru."
"There's no comfort in that, Angel."
Spike finally met his gaze, his own searching.
"If that were true you would realize that you, in turn, were as Darla made you, rather than spending your days brooding over Angelus' misdeeds. But still you brood, so it can't be true, or at least if it's true, it still isn 't enough."
Spike shrugged and took a sip of the cooling pig's blood, grimacing automatically in distaste. One of the few things he missed about the evil empire was the choice selection of blood not of the pig variety.
"You're right, it's not enough. I can't relegate my actions to someone else. I hold myself responsible, and this is my penance, this existence dedicated to helping others. It can't ever change what happened, but somehow it makes me feel as though I'm bringing some sort of balance to the equation by doing this."
"And when the scales are balanced, you'll reach your reward and become human," Spike added bitterly.
"The reward isn't becoming human, Spike," Angel explained grimly, leaning forward to emphasize his point. "It's getting to die with half a chance of not going to hell. I don't believe it's really possible, but as long as the potential exists, I have to strive for it. You know what that means. You saw it, and believe me, you don't want to experience it for even the length of time I did, much less eternity," he added tersely.
Spike nodded, a far-off look in his eyes. "No one in their right mind would knowingly seek that fate," he agreed reluctantly, his cocky, brash accent and persona momentarily slipping away.
His gaze refocused a minute later, and sought out the other vampire's.
"And yet you're willing to become the head of the Order. How do you reconcile these two things, Angel?"
Angel sat back again, and glanced at the others at the table, all of whom were watching him intently.
"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. It's just that at every step of the way there have been important turning points, and I've always recognized them." He shrugged. "Angelus is smarter than Liam, or maybe it's just that he's more deviously clever."
Angel addressed this seemingly inexplicable comment to Spike, but didn't try to hide it from the others.
"Whatever it is, I trust that intuition."
"Angelus?" Wesley asked curiously. He licked his lips nervously before continuing on. "Liam and Angelus. I've often wondered."
"Wondered what, Wes?" Angel asked, staying carefully, non-threateningly still. "Ask me and if you really want to know, maybe I'll tell you."