The Crypt: Family. Both of Them. by Prose

Family. Both Of Them.

A/N: Hey, all! Sorry about the wait, but first I got a virus, then my computer got a virus. But both the computer and I are feeling much better now, so here's chapter five of the story!

Chapter Five

0000

The next day, I'm still twitching a little from that whole episode on the couch. And Angel must've felt somethin', too because he's shooting this glance at me every few minutes, and every time he does his expression is a mixture of concern and annoyance. I'd tell him what happened if I bloody could... all I know is that something was wrong. Something was... I'm starting to feel a little disoriented again, kind of like how I felt while I was in the school basement. Just not nearly as bad. Sort of like a nagging at the back of my mind. I'm hoping it stays that way. I don't ever want to feel the way I did then ever again. It was black, and it was cold. And it made me feel my soul ten times more than I would've normally. Kind of like stickin' your hands in the snow for a really long time and then just shovin' 'em into hot water.

Eventually, though, Angel's lookin' at me starts to bug me, so I confront him about it. "What?" I ask, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs that Head had brought in from the kitchen earlier that day; Angel got rid of the couch yesterday. Not that he needed to, considering that all signs of... whatever it was that came... are gone. I guess it's more of a psychological thing.

"You tell me," Angel replies, his voice irritatingly calm.

"Tell you what?"

Angel shrugs and shifts his gaze back to the TV screen. Like he's really watchin' the show. He hates teen dramas, and this is definitely a teen drama. Princess has the first four seasons of Dawson's Creek, and she let me borrow 'em for the night; Angel won't pay for anything that'll get us some decent reception in this sodding hotel, so I have to make due with what's available. And why the hell does Joey have to be such an idiot? She's really startin' to get on my nerves... or it could just be that Angel's trying to get me to talk first. Yeah, like that's gonna work. Okay, so I'm not goin' to last the night at this rate. So, what? Can't you just let me lie to myself for awhile?

8888

He's caving. I can always tell when he's losing his resolve because his jaw does this twitching thing. That and he always looks really pissed off. And I don't think he looks that angry right now because of the show we're "watching." Then again, it's stupid. I mean, the entire show is based on a love triangle? Who would watch several seasons of a TV show just to find out who ends up with who at the end? It's ridiculous. Why can't they just move on? I meant both the characters in the show and the people watching the show; they all need lives. And, yeah, we may be watching it, but at least we both hate it. Or, at least, I hate it. I don't know about Spike. I mean, he's hooked on Passions. For how long, I don't know.

Spike lifts his hand up to scratch his chest, then lets it fall back down onto his lap, sighing. A few more minutes, and then he turns to me and asks, "You hungry?" I shake my head, eyes still on the TV. He grunts and pushes himself up onto his feet; at least he's not nearly as stiff as he was yesterday. "Well, I am. I'll be in the kitchen." And he leaves the room. He'll take as long as possible getting his blood, probably drink it in the kitchen, and then he'll be forced to either return to his chair and pretend to watch this show or go up to his room and pretend to sleep. Let me tell you, taking responsibility for Spike is like signing yourself up for a non-stop migraine. I've been taking aspirin like PEZ candies. It's pathetic.

I hear the microwave ping, and when Spike doesn't return a few seconds after that I know that he chose to drink it in there. Which means he's deciding what he's going to do after he's finished.

Ten minutes later, it occurs to me that I completely overlooked option three: leave the Hyperion via the back door. By now I know that Spike's not going to kill himself or anything like that, but I'm still not sure whether or not Spike will return to Sunnydale if he feels too much pressure.

Also, Buffy called earlier today while Spike was still asleep. She asked me if Spike was any better, and she wanted to know how things were over here demon-wise. She didn't bother to ask if I was okay. Probably because I was well enough to answer the phone. But my wrist was still covered in the after-effects of the demon spider's sticky stuff, you know? It wouldn't have hurt her to ask how I was. But she didn't, and now I sound like... er... Buffy. Or Cordelia. The point is that she called to ask if the Spike situation was improving. I told her he wasn't trying to dust himself anymore. And then she'd demanded what I'd meant by "anymore." Apparently he hadn't felt very suicidal before he'd left Sunnydale. Either that or he just hadn't allowed anyone to see what he was feeling until he walked through the doors of the hotel. I'm not really sure how Buffy's phone call figures into everything, but it was enough to fuel my headache and that's enough for me.

After another five minutes pass, I decide I should go confront Spike directly. Trying to get him to talk about something he's afraid of is like... well, it's almost impossible. You can't bully him into it or he'll just get pissed off and leave, you can't reason with him or he'll get pissed off and leave, you can't promise to "make the monsters go away" or he'll get pissed off, hit you, and leave. No, you have to let him know that you're just as scared as he is. I'm not saying he'll admit to it, but he will talk about it with you. It's kind of like if he assures and reasons with you, he's doing the same with himself, and in the end he can keep his pride. And make you feel like a pansy. Oh well, that's a jab at my ego that I'm willing to take; something was in my hotel yesterday, and I didn't like it.

0000

Right about now, Angel's probably realizing that I took the back way out of the hotel. Which means that in a few minutes, he's going to follow me outside, and we're gonna talk. Except he's not gonna get me to admit to a bloody thing.

8888

I step outside and I know he senses me there. His back's to me, and he's standing there with his arms crossed and his feet slightly apart; this is his "back off" stance, so I'll have to be careful. I walk up to him and stand slightly behind him and to his left, waiting for him to talk first. It takes him about five minutes.

"What do you want?" he asks softly, not looking at me.

I move forward so that I'm now standing right next to him. "Something bad was in the hotel yesterday."

"Yeah?" Spike asks, pretending he doesn't know anything about it.

That's fine. I expected him to. "Yeah. Walked right into it. So did Cordelia."

"Princess?" Spike asks, looking a little bit concerned.

"She's fine. Obviously, considering you saw her. But we're both still a little spooked." I have to hold back a triumphant smirk when Spike almost snorts and comments on my understatement. Almost. "We're both wondering what it is that came in. It was obviously something pretty powerful."

Spike nods, turning his head slightly toward me. He still isn't making eye contact, but at least I know he's listening to me; he's processing what I know so he can match it up with his facts. Maybe we'll come up with an answer this way. "Yeah?" he says, waiting for me to go on.

"It's faded away now, though. And it obviously works on different levels with different people. I felt it until about five hours ago. Cordelia stopped feeling it almost instantly. Lorne's refused to go into the lobby the whole day, and Connor stopped feeling it until about the time that I did. Gunn and Fred's reactions were a lot like Cordelia's, except they didn't stop dead in their tracks. They both just shivered and went on with what they were doing."

"Uh huh? So?" Spike is finally looking at me.

"So, I'm thinking that whatever in this hotel was seriously powerful. And evil."

Spike nods. "It's gotta be if you felt it that long."

"Did anything unusual happen yesterday?"

That's when I know that Spike knows something that I don't; his gaze flickers and he tilts his head slightly. "Unusual?" he asks, playing dumb. "What do you mean by unusual?"

"Out of the ordinary."

Spike shrugs, knowing that I can see he's holding back. "Not as far as I'm concerned," he replies. He looks at the hotel. "I'm gonna go turn in. Almost daylight." He jerks his head in the direction of the horizon to emphasize his point, then goes back into the hotel.

Saved by the sunrise.

0000

I've got to bloody well get out of here. But how? First of all, the ponce is probably not going to let me leave any time soon. Second of all, how can I leave after what happened yesterday? Buffy would never forgive me. Plus, whatever's comin' is big, and not likely somethin' that Angel can handle by himself. Sure, he's got Little Brother. The rest are just normal people with knowledge of how the "bump in the night" things work. So, I guess I'm sort of stuck here, then. Perfect. Oh well, at least when this thing comes out, I'll finally have somethin' to swing at.

8888

I actually wake up in the morning the next day because I have this feeling that I should. I don't know why I get this feeling, but it basically makes my eyes snap open before I can make it go away. So I stayed in bed for a few minutes, trying to force myself to go back to sleep, but then I decided that, even though no one was screaming or fighting downstairs, I should pay attention to my instincts and just get up. So I did. And now, twenty minutes later, I'm sitting on one of the chairs and watching this stupid TV show on DVD again, wondering if my age is affecting my judgment.

Then there's a knock on the door. And when I look up, who do I see standing there? You get one guess. I motion for Buffy to come inside, springing up off of the chair.

Buffy enters the Hyperion and looks around a little bit. "Nice place you've got here," she comments, attempting a smile.

That's right. She's never really seen the hotel before. The last time she was here, I still had an apartment. "Um... yeah. It's okay," I say stupidly, approaching her slowly.

Buffy and I kind of stare at each other for awhile, then I look away and scratch the back of my neck while she clears her throat uncomfortably and gazes at the floor intently. Then she looks up again. "Sorry I didn't call or anything," she says.

"Well, you sort of did..." I point out.

"Yeah, but I didn't say I was coming over or anything." She shakes her head. "I just... last night you didn't sound like you meant it when you said that everything was fine." She starts scanning the room again. "And there's something happening in Sunnydale, too."

"Really? What?" I ask, going into "oh, no, Buffy's in trouble! Gotta help her!" mode. Really. She's moved on. I mean, she's slept with three guys�"that I know about, anyway�"since I left. And I've slept with no one... except Darla. And I guess mine was more serious because I ended up with a son. And there's the fact that I put my happiness clause at risk. But still...

"I can't really say." Buffy crosses her arms and walks a little away from me. "It's just a... a feeling. And there's the fact that something's been playing with us." She looks over her shoulder at me. "Nothing weird's been going on over here, has it?"

"Um... define weird...?"

"I can't. Just... anything other than the usual demon stuff?"

Should've stopped by yesterday. "Well, there was this thing. But it's nothing. Yours sounds more important."

Buffy turns to face me head on and shakes her head. "No, what was the 'little thing?' Because whatever's messing with us has been throwing 'little things' our way."

"Just energy," I reply. "What little things?"

Buffy sighs and shrugs. "Nothing too serious. Just enough to make us sit up and pay attention. We're bracing ourselves for... whatever it is." She scans the room again. "Um... where is everyone?"

"Gunn and Wes are checking out a lead on this demon we're trying to get rid of for a client, Cordy went shopping for food and stuff and took Fred with her, and I don't really know where Lorne and Connor are."

"Out of all the people you just mentioned, I know two of them." Buffy grins and she looks a little sad.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you've got people over in Sunnydale that I don't know." I'm kind of glad that my coworkers aren't in the hotel right now; Buffy doesn't really know anything about my having a son yet. I sort of want to keep it that way, too.

Buffy shrugs again. "A few." Then she looks down at the floor again. "How... how's Spike?" she asks softly. Oh, yeah. I should've known that by everyone, she really meant Spike.

"He's�""

I'm sort of cut off because a door opens upstairs and Spike appears at the top of the stairs. "Talkin' to yourself again, Ponce?" he asks. He sort of freezes up when he sees Buffy standing there. "Um... hey."

Buffy nods and swallows. "Hey." Her voice is barely audible.

Spike comes down the stairs slowly. Partly because he's still hurting from the spider demon attack, and probably also because he's nervous. "I know you were gonna check up on me, just not this soon."

Buffy shrugs. "Worried. You were sort of different when you left, you know? Wanted to see if you were any better."

"What, since last time we talked?" Spike sort of mutters.

"Hm?" Buffy asks. "What'd you say?"

Spike shakes his head. "Nothin'."

Okay. Something's wrong. This goes outside of what would be normal tension. I shoot a glance at Spike, then return my attention to Buffy. I've got to take a moment and say that our being here together at the same time is awkward. More than awkward. I mean, every time the three of us have been in a room at the same time has never ended well. Either one or more of us had killing on the brain, and then there was that whole episode with Spike holding Willow and Xander hostage and demanding that we help him make a love potion for him or they'd die... yeah. Awkward. Anyway, this isn't that kind of uncomfortable. This is something else. And the person that seems to be the most tense is Spike. What's going on?

0000

Somethin's up. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I've got that feeling again. And what's Buffy doin' back at the hotel so fast? She was just here yesterday. She must've turned around and come back almost right after she got back home. "So, how's the situation back in Sunnyhell?"

"Bad," Buffy replies.

"She won't say exactly how bad," Angel adds.

"I told you, we don't really know. The... whatever it is... is just in the 'messing with us' phase right now."

"Most annoying phase of all," I mutter. "Unless you're the one doin' the messing."

"Yeah, it is better to have the upper hand," Buffy agrees. "Not that I'd know about it, considering I barely ever get to mess with people."

Damnit, what's wrong? It's tugging at the back of my brain. It's gotta break through sometime or I'll go bloody insane! "Um... yeah. I'm gonna go get some blood." Anything to get me out of that room. I think the thing that bothers me the most is the fact that I don't feel... it anymore. Yesterday when Buffy showed up, I felt cold. I just feel... well, not normal, because things are just way too tense for that. So, I take my time getting' the blood, and then I rinse the mug out and everything when I'm done drinkin' it so that I use up as much time as possible.

When I go back out into the lobby, Buffy and Angel are sitting in two of the kitchen chairs and they're trying to talk, but they keep trailing off and staring at the floor and stuff. Yep. That's pretty much what should be happening, considering what the three of us have done or tried to do to each other.

And then Buffy stands up. And that's when I realize what was wrong yesterday; there's an imprint on the cushion of the chair where she'd been sitting. Yesterday, her weight didn't affect the couch at all. Not when she sat down, not when she stood up. And I don't remember really hearing her enter the hotel, either. I just sort of... sensed her there all of a sudden. And it's happened before, my thinking she's there when she's not... bloody hell, I'm losing my mind again.

8888

I'm sitting there trying to talk to Buffy when Spike comes out of the kitchen. He stands still in the lobby for a few seconds, then suddenly goes upstairs, walking as fast as he possibly can without breaking into an actual run. Okay, what the hell just happened with him? And what did he mutter on the way up the stairs? Beneath you? He's not on about Cecily again, is he? "What the...?" I stand up slowly.

Buffy shakes her head. "Just like when he left."

"What?"

"The night he took off to see you. Fine one minute, muttering about circuses and things devouring me from beneath the next. And then he ran off."

"Okay... nobody told me about this before."

"Did you ask?"

"Well, no, but first it was obviously a touchy subject, and then I didn't have time."

"Yeah, well, Spike's been kind of messed up in the head ever since I found him in the basement, and most likely before then, too. It's either something to do with his soul, or the thing that's playing with us. Or both." Buffy looks up in the direction of Spike's room. "Maybe we should...?"

"No. I will. Later." When Buffy looks like she's about to protest, I interrupt her. "No. He was fine�"or at least as far as I could tell, anyway�"until you showed up. You should probably leave."

Buffy looks like she's still going to stay for a few seconds, then she sighs and nods. "Right. But let me know how he is, okay?" And then she just looks at me for a few seconds longer before leaving the hotel. I have to admit to feeling jealous for a moment or so. I mean, every time I've talked to her since Spike showed up at the Hyperion, all she's talked about�"besides some evil thing that's on the way�"has been... well... Spike.

I sigh and make my way to the stairs. I get the feeling that talking to Spike about whatever the hell went on in the lobby is not going to be easy. And it's probably going to end up with us both being pissed off. Maybe I should wait until it's closer to sunset... no. Spike'll just try to run off. I think Buffy inadvertently has something to do with what scared him yesterday.

Now I suddenly find myself standing in front of the door to Spike's room. How did I get up here so fast? I don't even remember coming up the stairs. I shake my head and turn the doorknob slowly. Okay... here we go.

A/N: Well, that's the end of chapter five. Next chapter will feature the conversation between Spike and Angel. I promise that the more slashy stuff will be coming within the next few chapters, okay?