SquidgeWorld Archive

Spike's tired. He looks around Angel's brand new office, free to examine every little detail because Angel's not looking at him. Angel never looks at him. Every once in a while he throws a scathing comment at his sire, doing what is expected of him. He remembers the old days when Angelus had played and laughed with him. When Spike meant more than just another body to throw against the demons.

He means less than nothing to Angel now; he knows that. He looks around the room, evaluating his position compared to the other players in his sire's life. It was a game he used to play, back when he was important. Darla had always been fairly equal, being Angelus' sire. But Spike had always come before Dru and Penn. Angelus loved him.

How long had he been supposed to hold his sire's interest, he wonders. Less than a decade, and William had found himself last. The game had become bitter then - Dru had remained steady in her place, sugar and spice and sure of Angelus' affections; Darla first, as always; and Penn, a hunting partner with no failings, coming in at a clear second place.

That was where 'Spike' had come in. William had tried to reinvent himself, to grab his sire's attention again but he'd failed miserably. Angelus wanted no part of him, Spike or William; they were both summarily rejected.

Then Angelus was gone, and the game was put on hold for a while.

Seeing Angelus at the submarine had been surprising. Spike had expected nothing more than what he'd been given. He kept himself closed off, refusing to give Angelus an inch. He congratulated himself on growing up and finally getting over his bastard of a sire.

He still played the game though. Angelus had made a new childe, and Spike was in the same rung as Lawson. Not last anymore. Or rather, he had company at the bottom.

When he'd next seen Angel, he'd known that that was just who his sire was. Angel. Angelus was gone, but the game played on. This time the Slayer had been first, displacing Darla with a flick of her blonde head. Darla had still been important though. Angel had avoided causing his sire harm until she'd directly conflicted with number one. Buffy.

Dru had fallen a little, but Angel's guilt had kept her fairly steady in place. Spike, on the other hand, had fallen even further down. Apparently the guilt didn't apply to him.

After he'd gotten the soul, after he'd sacrificed himself for the world, he'd hoped for more. He never even imagined he would displace Buffy as number one, but maybe he would come before Wesley or Gunn or even Fred if he tried hard enough.

Even Cordelia, lying somewhere in a coma is more important than him.

He's as secure in his position as Dru used to be, kicked aside unless needed, always last. Whenever Angel needs something dangerous done he calls Spike. At first, before Angel told him to train with Illyria, Spike thought that if he didn't like him, Angel at least trusted him a little. But he's wrong; he knows that now. He'd overheard that conversation with Wesley. Angel doesn't send him forward because he trusts him. No. He calls Spike because Spike's expendable. Angel doesn't care what happens to him so he can afford to risk him.

Spike watches Gunn, sitting at the corner of the table. He's shrunk, Spike thinks. Partly guilt, partly his stint in hell. Angel saved him though. Gunn had a hand in what killed Fred but Angel still saved him. Would he have done the same for me? he wonders, staring thoughtfully into space.

No.

Maybe he isn't even last anymore. Maybe he just doesn't rank at all. No longer last because he's no longer in the line. To Angel he's nothing.

He's so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the horrified way Angel's looking at him.

"Spike? What's going on?"

He looks up to find his sire staring at him.

"I didn't do anything Peaches. Get back to your meeting." He growls, thinking he's being yelled at for yet another offence committed against the Great Poof.

"You're disappearing," Angel says, and Spike's world comes crumbling down.

Not again. He can't take that again.

He watches Angel's eyes fill with horror, and then his sire fades away and there's...nothing. Spike frantically tries to feel or see something, anything but there's nothing, not even a hint of colour.

He's nothing.

--------------

Angel watches helplessly as Spike disappears, the terrified look in the blond's face imprinted in his brain.

"Wesley, what the hell happened?"

Angel's tone demands an explanation, as he still stares at the spot Spike occupied a second earlier.

"I-I'm not sure. He was there, then he wasn't...I don't understand." Wesley stuttered, shocked by the sudden disappearance.

"Well, find out. I want him back." Angel's implacable tone doesn't cover the fear in his eyes. Spike's gone. Shouldn't he be celebrating or something? Instead he's struck by shock and horror.

He always had cared for Spike. Even Angelus had spared a fond thought for his youngest creation. After a while Angelus had gotten tired of William's constant need for attention. He'd decided that a decade or so on the outside would teach the boy some self-sufficiency. And it had. Spike had risen from William's ashes, and Angelus wanted him more than he'd ever wanted William. Just as the ten years were drawing to a close, just as Angelus was looking forward to reclaiming his lover, the gypsies happened.

Angel had left the family, had spent the better part of a century coming to terms with his soul. Then Spike was back, looking more
confident and sexier than ever and, Angel had had to ruthlessly stomp on the instant attraction. He had a soul; he couldn't protect or care for unsouled monsters. He'd staked Darla, his sire, the most important person in Angelus' life, and he'd refused to be affected by an insolent, swaggering childe. He'd resented the effect Spike had on him.

By the time Spike had gotten himself a soul, Angel had honed his resentment to a fine point. He'd felt jealous of Spike. Not just for his relationship with Buffy. Angel had been jealous of the relative ease with which Spike had accepted his soul, of Spike getting to save the world. Of Spike being so damn confident all the time.

So instead of welcoming Spike, instead of trying to reestablish some kind of relationship between himself and the only family he would ever have, he'd lashed out. He kept telling himself that Spike meant nothing to him, and in the end he'd believed it. He'd believed that Spike was expendable, unnecessary, unneeded.

And now Spike is gone, and Angel can't bear the thought that he'll never be able to fix things. He orders every single employee of the firm to find out all they can about Spike's disappearance. He turns over every stone, hunts down every lead, does everything within his power to bring Spike back.

Spike remains gone.

It's been a week now, and Angel is gradually falling apart. He's sitting at his desk, looking down at yet another report that says Spike is still gone and there's no way to bring him back, and his eyes finally fill with tears.

"Please, Spike. Please come back. I need you. I'm sorry. Please come back."

-------------

At first Spike doesn't know what to do. He sits...he thinks he's sitting anyway...He sits quietly and waits for something to happen.

Time doesn't pass when you're nothing. He tries to make noise, to sing or speak or bang against something, but nothing's coming out. In the end he just lies still, waiting to fade completely away. Some part of him knows that if he stays here long enough, he'll gradually merge with the rest of the 'nothing'.

Sometimes he hears things.

"Damnit, Wesley, I told you to do anything you can to get him back! So do it!"

"Well, find the goddamned contract and see if we can use them for magic. If they can get him back, I'll pay any price they want!"

His imagination is still strong then. Because it sounds like Angel wants him back enough to stop treating Wesley and Gunn with kid gloves.

One time he thinks he can hear Angel crying, begging him to come back. He can feel his hands for a moment after that, but the feeling quickly goes away, and he puts it down to pure imagination. Angel hasn't wanted him for over a century; he sure as hell isn't going to beg him to come back.

But the voice keeps growing louder, and he can practically feel the desperation in Angel's voice.

"Please, Spike. Please come back. I need you. I'm sorry. Please come back."

The voice grows nearer, and suddenly he can feel his whole body, and there's air around him. He stays perfectly still, afraid to move, just in case the dream ends. He hears a gasp, and he's lifted against someone's chest, and his face is peppered with kisses.

Spike tries to open his eyes, but the light is too strong. All the feeling is too much after so long with nothing, and the world fades to black.

When he opens his eyes again he's laying on the couch, his head resting on Angel's lap. He looks up into Angel's eyes and notes the worry and relief in them. He clears his throat and tries to speak.

"I don't..." He clears his throat, and Angel immediately offers him some water.

"Hush, Spike. You need to rest. Just...don't go anywhere okay? I couldn't stand it if you disappeared again."

Spike frowns and makes a greater effort to speak.

"I don't understand. I was nothing."

----------------------

Spike had been nothing. Just like Angel thought Spike was to him.

"No." Angel contradicts strongly, his voice coloured with some guilt. He doesn't know how but he knows he was partly to blame for Spike disappearing. "You're not nothing. You're confident and strong and a pain in my ass most days but you're not nothing. I didn't realize it before, but I need you, Spike. Need you to snark at me and glare and call me a poof. Though 'Peaches' I'm not so fond of. Would you mind not calling me that? You can if you want, but please don't. I need you okay? So don't disappear again cause I'm pretty sure the whole workforce is going to quit on me. Or just stake me on sight."

Angel realizes his hand is stroking through Spike's hair. He can't stop the movement just as he can't stop the words pouring out of his mouth. He needs to say this, needs to convince Spike to stay.

"I've been trying so hard to get you back I haven't even looked at other cases. Gunn said there's a tribe of demons that declared war on us. Everything's falling apart without you. So you have to stay, you see. I need you to stay. I've wanted you for so long, Spike. Please don't go. Not now that I finally get what you mean to me. You believe me, right? That I need you? You'll stay?"

------------------

Spike is dazed by the sheer volume of words directed at him. The sound seems so loud after the silence on nothingness, and Angel's babble is so uncharacteristic that it shocks him. The content is just as shocking as the sound. Angel needs him? But he's nothing!

He finally realizes that Angel is looking at him anxiously, like he's waiting for something.

"What?" He asks, voice hoarse from disuse.

"I need you to stay. With me. You believe me?"

He starts to shake his head, but as he begins the movement he catches Angel's eyes. There's so much pain in them. He looks more carefully and is struck by the fear he can still see in their depths. Fear for him.

He sees Angel lean down, and then soft lips are pressed against his. Spike allows Angel to kiss him, opens his mouth and feels Angel taste him for the first time in centuries. He can feel Angel grow hard under his head, and he panics.

"Angel, I can't..."

"Shhh...I just wanted to show you. I need you, Spike. I want you. I won't be dumb enough to deny it again. Please stay?"

Spike nods, smiling softly up at his sire. He loves the relief in Angel's eyes, the hope that shines there.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Spike feels hope. He plays the game again, and this time he's not last. He doesn't know exactly where he ranks, but that's okay because at least he's in the running.

He knows things are not so easily resolved, he knows that. But they can work on things tomorrow. For now, he's just happy he's wanted.