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He had not intended to die this day.

Yet his fate was not his own any longer, he came to realize, as the creature stalked him into the desolate alley. That his mind conjured such an abstract word instead of man or even animal set his teeth on edge and grinding them as was his habit when disturbed, he began a silent litany of prayers.

The thing heard him and shook his head with a small smile as the human trembled.

"You'll not be needing that savior anymore, young William. I'm to be ye new god."

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike woke suddenly, frantic. Eyes darting around while heaving in lungs full of air, he settled, vaguely calming as the dream dissolved slowly. It always lingered long enough for him to understand the meaning, but never long enough for him to gain any comfort from its terror.

Distractedly, he ran a shaking hand over the back of his neck, feeling as if he was sweating, yet nothing was there but the cool silkiness he'd come to expect from his skin.

Outside it was still bright and blinding to his kind. This he knew without knowing how. He had never been one to question his preternatural senses, just enjoy them. Once he hated the sun, the way it trapped him away from doing what he wished, when he wished, but now it was a reason to stay hidden and be alone in the miserable state of his existence.

A vampire, unable to feed, unable to fight, unable to kill.

Shifting, the chains clanked against the porcelain of the watcher's tub and he sighed. One of the goody-two-shoes was sure to be along to remind of his place. He thought this was what he hated most; that the human children had taken to speaking to him like an errant puppy that needed his nose shoved in the shit.

Footsteps approached and his keen hearing and sense of smell announced her presence before she ever got to the door. The one that got away.

She knocked softly, too polite apparently to barge in like the others, and waited a few beats before opening the door only enough to peek inside.

"Um, Spike? I'm gonna be here while Giles is gone."

He only stared back, not giving an inch and she was not sure he even registered her presence. For all she knew, vampires slept with their eyes open.

For some unknown reason, it bothered her that he was so despondent at times. He had been almost nice to her, and certainly too nice for an evil blood sucking fiend, when he tried to kill her the other day, and she sensed something better than what he showed the world underneath his murderous exterior.

She presumed that if she got him to talk about it he would feel better. She tried another tactic. "Do you want some blood?"

There was a sparkle in his eye as he raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Yeah, Red. I'd love some blood. You offering?"

She huffed and frowned with a shake of her head, her hair falling messily over her face. He remembered clenching those soft tresses in his hand, moving her to his liking, barely keeping his demon from running amuck and slaughtering her properly in his drunken state. He was glad he had resisted, but still wanted her dead and newly reborn by his side.

"No, and don't go there, okay? Buffy already wants to stake you so bad that she's dreaming about it."

Suppressing a shudder from the thought of featuring in the slayer's dreams, he shrugged. "So why hasn't she? I'm helpless as a bloody infant. Would be kinder. That's what you cavalry types do, innit? Kill with kindness."

"Giles told her no ... and so did I," she added as she went about turning on the television.

"And why's that then?" he asked, curious as to what would make her tell the slayer to keep him undead. He had only intended to kill her after all.

It was her turn to shrug. He was like her, losing in love and having a hard time because of it. She felt a kinship with him that she'd never express, but it was there, motivating her actions. "It's wrong. And, besides, look at you."

"Can't ... vampire, remember?"

She smiled and readied herself to leave and warm his blood. "Someone a long time ago decided to preserve something beautiful. Who are we to destroy it?"

~~~~~~~~~

A banging woke him this time and he felt the night cradling him in its black womb. He had fallen asleep watching Ricky Lake. It was a particularly boring one. He most enjoyed the ones where there was cheating and incest. Humans were as debauched as demons at times and this amused him to no end.

Focusing his attention on the sounds outside the bathroom, he heard Willow talking. The responding voice was lower than hers, male, but not that of the idiot whelp that he would be eviscerating as soon as he was free of this affliction. Being nosey he tuned in, wondering if the witch had found herself a new shagging ...

Oh Bloody Saints in Hell!

Yanking on the chains with as much force as he could muster, he managed to bend the pipes as well as create a terrible amount of noise. He kept at it, determined to get free and escape before that door opened, but his luck was decidedly bad this week and the door was flung inward, hitting the wall with a bang.

Spike calmed down instantly, knowing he was caught and treated the intruder with his customary glare.

"Peaches."

"What game are you playing, Spike?" Angel asked, outwardly calm. Spike figured that was for Willow's sake as she was standing behind who Spike thought of as King Broody Pants, wide-eyed and watchful.

Blue eyes rolled. "What ever do you mean?"

"What are you doing in Giles' bathtub? If this is another one of your twisted plans ..."

"Right! You got me, Poof. My diabolical scheme has been uncovered. I intentionally didn't feed for a week and chained myself in the watcher's loo ..." he raised his hands to showcase the heavy duty manacles around his thinning wrists, "... so that I could do what exactly, Captain Cavebrow?"

Angel frowned, refusing to give in to temptation and touch his forehead.

"He got captured by some soldiers and they did something to him so he can't hurt anyone," Willow advised him.

Scowling he turned to the redhead. "It's a trick."

"Now you sound like Buffy," she replied, rolling her eyes. "It's no trick. He came to my dorm room all fangy, ready to make me like him, but couldn't." She leaned close to Angel, whispering. "Nearly cried from the pain."

"Hey! I did not cry!"

Willow winced. "I said nearly! Hey, you heard that?"

"Well, yeah ... vampire."

She blushed and scooted out of the room, wondering what else he had heard since being stashed away in the bathroom.

Angel had been silent, but seemed to be coming out of brood-mode. "You we're going to turn her?" he asked flatly.

Spike straightened up, amazingly making himself look in control of his destiny, and favored Angel with a penetrating gaze. "You turned me."

The souled vampire closed his eyes, trying to push away images of a variety of things he had done to his childe. "I know," he whispered.

For what seemed like hours they stared at each other, both lost to memories and some form of odd heartache.

His sire moved first, closing in on the blond so quickly that Spike could only gasp in fearful surprise. Angel took advantage of that and plundered lips that were as soft as he remembered, as delicious as the day he turned him and as sinful as the first time he took him to his bed.

It was over before either of them could think too much about it and Angel proceeded to pull at the chains, ignoring his childe's inquisitive eyes.

"What are you doing?"

He popped a link free and threaded the length of chain through the anchor, his anger racing and stormy. "I won't," he muttered, "have one of mine trussed up like some dog." Unless he was doing the trussing, of course.

Willow came rushing back, hearing the commotion, concerned. "Angel! You can't let him go," she said the words, but was frowning as if trying to convince herself that they were true.

Angel whirled on her, keeping it human, but feeling more of the evil inside him that he liked. He wasn't particularly safe when he got this way. "Do you plan on stopping me, Willow? I'm really hoping not." His humorless laugh decided for her.

"Of course not, it's just ... What do I tell them?"

Spike stood slowly, his legs stiff from disuse. His sire was there to lean on, he knew that, loathed it and loved it equally, but he opted to grin and bear the minor discomfort alone. The manacles were still firmly clamped around his wrists and there was new bruising from where he had yanked and tugged earlier.

"Tell them I came and took him. It's my right. Giles'll understand." He watched as the blond, pale and emaciated under the cover of his clothes, stepped gingerly over the edge. Angel had never seen him be so cautious with his movements and it pained him that the creature of his making had been reduced to this. Annoyance took hold again.

"How long have you been here, Spike?"

Usually he would have a retort for the souled version of his sire, but he was confused and not exactly sure who he was dealing with so he decided on for the truth. "Four days." He felt tired and every bit of his 126 years.

"Why?" Angel asked the redhead. He was still being very calm and thought he deserved something for that, an explanation would be perfect.

"Uh, why what?" Willow replied when it became apparent that he was waiting for her to respond to something so vague.

"If he's been here fours days, why is he still being starved?" he growled out.

"Oh, I... I mean, Buffy, she said that he ... Spike had information on the soldiers and they attacked me the same night that he tried to bite me, but we both kinda escaped when Buffy showed up and beat them into submission and then there was the flare gun, which was really cool because it blinded all the guys that were wearing the little night vision goggles. Well not really blinded. It was only tempor..."

"Red," Spike interrupted, seeing Angel's patience being tested and knowing the humans had no clue that the soul was no catch-all-evil screen and the vampire was capable of anything at that moment.

She stopped, slamming her mouth shut.

"Buffy was a bit stingy with the pig swill, Peaches. No info, no blood. I'm not saying I was cooperative, but since when do the white hats use military interrogation tactics?"

"But we did feed you!" Willowed blurted. "We gave him mugs of blood two or three times a day ..." she bit her bottom lip as Angel glared at her and Spike was distracted by the idea of sucking on it and perhaps biting into it.

"A human has about 6 pints of blood Willow. That's what twelve of your little tea cups?" Angel informed her.

"Hey! We did the best we knew, okay. He could have said something to me and I would have gotten him more. No one deserves to be starved."

They stared at each other for a moment before the vampire relented. He'd forgotten how her temper could flare. It was a nice thing to see again. "Sorry."

Patting his arm, she glanced up at him. "It's okay. I guess, Spike is like your kid, one that tries to kill you and tortures you every other year, but still ... I get it."

Angel's eyes lit up at the reminder and he gave the blond a look. Spike glanced away, cursing her for mentioning his more recent transgressions. He would definitely be turning her as soon as he was able again.

"He'll be with me until we figure out how to undo this. You tell them that and to leave it alone. I don't want Buffy coming to my town making a fuss about this."

Willow nodded and said goodbye as they walked out the door. She had the odd urge to hug Spike, but knew he would not allow it or appreciate it. Maybe it was her that needed the hug more than the vampire. While he was there, she felt needed, useful, and sometimes wanted when he looked up as she came in and he tried to hide his pleasure at seeing her.

Now she only had time, time to think about what she had lost and how much it hurt.

~~~~~~~~~

The sounds of the road were louder than he remembered them being. His DeSoto, although much older, was well-built and he had enjoyed a smooth ride until it said its farewell. This batmobile that Angel insisted on driving was an invitation to immolation on wheels and Spike wondered if the soul made his sire semi-suicidal.

Something classical came through the speakers, a CD, yet the sounds were so true to those he recalled from the Royal Opera House. At the time the Germans had large number of works in the repertory and Angelus was ... intrigued. He let this music, not his thing normally, lull him to sleep, partly to avoid conversation, but also because he was so very tired.

Angel studied the road as he covertly observed the other vampire. The resignation was unsettling, totally out of character for his childe, but then Angel realized that he hardly knew him at all. One hundred years apart, with the boy becoming a master in his absence; something in Spike's nature had to have changed.

~~~~~~~~

Darla glared over at him from her seat next to a sleeping Drusilla, her breasts bouncing nicely from the erratic motions of the carriage, serving to distract William, until her tiny booted foot kicked out at him, accurate and painful.

Bitch.

He didn't bother to express his discomfort. It did not matter and she did not care. Angelus pulled him closer to him.

"Leave the boy be, Darla. He dinna know."
"Then teach him, Angelus. I'll not be dragged across the countryside one more time because of him."

"I'll take care of it," he snapped, not backing down as she favored him with her icy demeanor.

"See that you do. I fear he'll not find his way to shelter one morning." The threat was not vague. She had no desire to hide her intentions behind pleasantries.

William closed his eyes, his fate uncertain, hungry and cold.

~~~~~~~~~

His eyes opened as the car came to a stop. Out the window he saw the same building he had visited before when looking for the Gem.

"Do you think if I'd been wearing it, they could have zapped me or done what they did?"

Angel, for all his seeming obtuseness, had no doubt what he meant. "I don't know. I think you could still feel pain, be affected, just not killed." He got out and went around to Spike's side, there to help without being there to help. The blond stood, less shaky, and Angel led him inside.

"Where are your happy, little minions?"

Angel faltered slightly, but kept moving until they were in front of the elevator. "Cordy will be here tomorrow, then she'll probably quit once she sees you. And Doyle's dead."

Swallowing the biting comment, Spike just nodded as Angel shut the gate with a bang. The older vampire was waiting for it, and became tense as the normal Spike filth and mire remained unvoiced.

Downstairs was in its normal neatly Spartan state. Angel went to the right, flipped on a light switch, reaching the kitchen first. He preparing two large mugs of blood as blue eyes bore into him. He ignored the staring, passing one of the warmed cups to his childe.

"Drink this, then the other one too."

Sniffing it, Spike made a face, but did as Angel told him, much too hungry to argue or be finicky, while the other vampire retreated into the darkness of the other side of the apartment.

Spike heard fumbling and things being moved around for a few minutes. When Angel returned he had a key-like object that the fledge in him recognized instantly. He fancied that he could smell his own blood on it as Angel used it to unlock the manacles. They fell away and jangled loudly in the silence as they hit the floor and Spike stared at them for a time while he rubbed some of the soreness from his bruised and chaffing wrists.

Angel reached out for the arm and Spike jerked back, almost skittish, until he forced himself to be calm and let Angel do whatever he intended. The older vampire just shoved his hands in his front pockets thinking things were safer that way.

"Do you need anything for that?"

Shaking his head, Spike replied, "Nah, they'll heal up in a bit now that the bloody things are off."

"So you really can't hurt humans."

"Not actually wanting to talk about it, Angelus." He was feeling better, stronger for the blood, as bland as it was, but nothing put him in a mood to discuss this Hell.

"I suppose not," Angel chuckled, heating up another two mugs full. "I'll have to double, maybe triple my order," he said, more to himself than the other.

"You really gonna get this out of me?"

"If I can, yes." He turned to him, eyes expressionless, reaching that degree of stoicism that Spike only dreamed to achieve.

Wary eyes watched as Spike moved across the darkness, finding the couch without effort or light. "Do you think I'll be trained? Perform for the humans?" He needed to know what this would cost him, if he accepted help from his sire.

"I couldn't train you when I had no conscious about what I did to you, William. I doubt I can do it now."

Spike grinned slightly, remembering some of Angelus' attempts at controlling him and how they usually ended up. "Nothing wrong with trying, mate. I won't give in, but that's all part of the fun."