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2020-11-05
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Fighting For Redemption

Summary:

Fandom: AtS
Characters: Spike/Angel
Genre: Action, angst, possible slash and whatever else comes up.
Warnings: see above.
Disclaimer: not mine no matter how much I pretend.
Summary: Post NFA, Spike died in the alley and was granted access to heaven. He chose not to stay wanting instead to redeem the souls lost due to his actions. After saving the souls of Wesley, Fred and Gunn he asked to be returned to earth to continue to help Angel and carry on his search for lost souls (this was told in “Reward� which can be found here
Angel does not know that Spike is an angel now.
Inspired by Vamptastica’s wonderful work
Submitted through the Spike_Slash mailing list.

Work Text:

Fighting For Redemption
by Lilithangel

A tired and slumped figure trudged through the darkness. Signs of battle marred his clothing and flesh. He dragged a bloodied sword behind him without seeming to care if anyone saw. Not that there were many around to watch his progress the city appeared more deserted than normal even in the gloom of night.

One was there to see the figure's progress. A thin shape in the shadows hugging a jacket around a form that seemed to waver and solidify in time with the shadow's distress.

The dimensions he had found the others in did not weigh as heavy on him as did this place. Despite his anguish before and need to be down here with the other he did not realise how harsh and cold it would feel to be back.

The jacket he tugged around himself appeared for a moment to be made of feathers but a twitch of the shadows and it was leather.

The first figure stopped and scented the air a frown on his brow.

With a sigh the shape in the shadows stepped out and revealed himself.

For a brief second there was an expression of joy and relief on the dark figure's face but it was quickly swamped by a scowl.

"Spike," Angel growled, "you're not dust then?" it was more accusation than question.

"So it would appear," Spike answered, "you look like hell," he commented.

"It's been hell since the alleyway, where have you been hiding yourself?" Angel demanded sniffing suspiciously.

"Not human if that's what you think," Spike rolled his eyes at Angel's suspicion, "I've been elsewhere but now I'm back."

"And I should care why?" Angel stood upright glaring at Spike.

"Well if you think you can handle things by yourself," Spike took a step back.

"Wait," there was no disguising the panic in Angel's voice but he continued as if it hadn't been there, "can always use more muscle," he said grudgingly.

"Where's your base of operations then?" Spike chose to ignore both tones from Angel.

"The Hyperion," Angel jerked his head, "I'm assuming you have nowhere to stay?"

"Lead on oh fearless leader," Spike made a mocking bow.

Still hugging his jacket close Spike followed Angel in silence observing the dark vampire with concern.

Things had obviously not gone well for Angel since the battle. He was thinner than he had been in a long time and bore scars that should have faded long ago.

Never one for standing upright Angel now seemed huddled like an old man. He was still obviously as strong as ever but somehow broken by the memories he carried.

Spike could understand the weight; the harshness of the world was like a physical thing to him. He could taste the despair on his lips and feel the darkness sticking to his flesh.

They reached the hotel and entered still in silence. Angel went about his normal ritual of cleaning weapons and putting them away while Spike looked around with interest.

Very little had changed from his last visit except that everything looked shabbier and there was evidence of battles scarring the floor and walls.

When he had finished putting things away Angel turned to face Spike scowl firmly fixed on his face.

"So where have you been?" he demanded again.

"After the alleyway things were pretty intense," Spike hedged, "had to sort some things out but I'm back now."

Angel nodded and headed for the stairs, "there's plenty of rooms pick one. I'm going to have a shower."

Spike followed Angel up the stairs and watched him disappear into a room. Then he wandered around checking out the other rooms on the floor finally settling on one that at least had a solid bed and no sign of rat infestation.

Spike lay down on the bed heedless of the dust his wings adjusting to let him lie flat. The feel of the feathers reminding him that everything that had happened was real and this was not another version of hell he was trapped in.

He had not imagined the unguarded look on Angel's face but he knew it did not matter. It was the look of a survivor finding out they were not alone and did not mean Angel really cared about him.

Spike reminded himself that he was there for a reason; he had given up heaven to earn his place there. He would help Angel and find a way to rescue the other souls trapped by violence and despair.

The feathers reminded him that he was loved that when he was ready, forgiveness and redemption were waiting along with the others who cared for him.

* * * * *

He must have slept because when he opened his eyes Angel was standing above him.

The expression on Angel's face was unreadable, "let's get to work," Angel turned when he saw Spike's eyes open.

They headed downstairs in silence again.

As far as Spike could tell Angel had not fed since they had met up and it worried him. He was not hungry yet still gifted from his time in heaven. It wouldn't last forever and he knew he would have to feed so decided to wait to confront Angel.

Angel tossed an axe to Spike from the armoury and took up his favourite sword.

"So what's the job?" Spike asked as they left the hotel.

"Patrol, kill things," Angel answered shortly.

Spike raised an eyebrow but did not comment simply swinging the axe to get the feel of carrying a weapon again.

Once again Spike was struck by how quiet the night was and he resolved to find a television and find out what was going on knowing full well that Angel would be less than forthcoming.

Turning a corner they came upon a mixed group of vampires and other demons then there was no time to think on anything.

Angel went in swinging and Spike moved to cover his back. The old ways of fighting together came back easily to them both and they cut a swath through the demons.

It was a hard fight made more difficult by both vampires being underfed and tired. Angel from months of fighting the remains of Wolfram & Hart's army alone and Spike from the weight of the world and the burden of souls he carried.

But rage is a powerful motivator and Angel was angry Spike could almost taste it in the air. Spike could only guess what Angel was angry about, being abandoned by everyone he loved and the Powers, left to continue fighting without any idea if it even mattered.

And for all his weakness Spike was an angel now and the demons could sense something different about the apparent vampire. It did not stop them for long but it gave Spike the extra edge needed to overcome them.

They reached the end of the street gasping for unneeded breaths and bleeding from several superficial wounds.

Spike met Angel's gaze and for a moment he could see all the despair and grief the dark vampire was hiding. He wanted to reach out and ease Angel's suffering but knew his efforts would be rebuffed. Instead all he could do was let Angel see the concern and understanding in his own eyes.

Angel recoiled with shock at the expression in Spike's eyes not believing what he was seeing. For an instant he appeared to waver and then his usual stoic mien shuttered his face again.

"Let's go," Angel turned and continued the patrol.

Spike followed on behind resisting the urge to snark at Angel in his old manner. He wanted a new relationship with the closest thing to a sire he had left. The relationships he had developed with Michael and Gabriel had made him realise how much he missed the comfort of someone who really cared about him even if they were angels and kind of bred for it.

They didn't find any more demons on patrol and Angel finally led them back to the hotel. Angel had snuck several puzzled glances back at Spike as they walked but conversation had been kept to a minimum.

This time after the weapons had been cleaned and put away Angel did go to the kitchen to prepare blood for them.

Spike took it gingerly uncertain how his body would react to blood after not needing sustenance for so long. He sipped carefully and was relieved to find his body accepted the blood as normal. It was still pig blood and still tasted terrible but his body recognised it as food.

Angel was watching Spike eat with a quizzical expression on his face; he had downed his blood quickly and without enjoyment and was obviously confused by Spike's restraint.

Spike finished the blood in one mouthful not sure he wanted Angel to watch him so carefully until he was accustomed to being a vampire again.

"Any of your wounds need tending?" Angel broke the silence.

Spike shook his head, "blood will deal with them. How about you?"

"I'll heal," Angel answered shortly.

"Tell me what's been happening since the alley," Spike decided to take advantage of Angel's apparent willingness to talk.

"I thought I was the only one to walk out," Angel answered with a hint of reproach, "Gunn lasted longer than Illyria predicted possibly just to prove he could but he went down in the end. Illyria took out hundreds before she just seem to turn into pure light and disappear."

Spike nodded, he had seen Gunn fall and remembered the pain when Illyria's light had brushed his skin. The spear that had pierced his flesh had come as a surprise and hadn't really hurt not like he had expected it to.

He had wanted to see Angel before the end but there was only a brief warmth and then darkness until he found himself standing in front of Gabriel being welcomed into heaven.

"I looked for you but could only find corpses," Angel continued his voice calmer now, "Illyria's death broke the army up and I was able to reach the Hyperion before daylight. I have been picking off the remnants of the army ever since. People have learnt it is more unsafe than normal on the streets after dark which is making it easier."

"What about Wolfram & Hart?"

"No sign of them since but I don't believe they are gone, they just don't care what I do," Angel's voice had dulled to monotony and Spike could tell that the dark vampire had lost belief.

"Have you spoken to anyone in Europe?" Spike knew that the tortured Angel would not have but he just needed to ask.

Angel shook his head confirming what Spike thought, "no point, they didn't want to help before why would they change their minds now?"

The angel Spike had become ached for the despair he could hear in Angel's voice the despair that echoed in his own soul.

He wanted to give Angel the same solace that Michael and Gabriel had given him but didn't know how. He couldn't risk Angel finding out what he was now, he had no idea how the dark vampire would react.

Their moment of closeness ended as Angel rinsed his mug and left the room.

Spike sighed and rubbed his side absently feeling the smaller wounds healing. His hand brushed one of the names inscribed in his flesh and felt it warm to his touch.

He felt a pull on his body and knew that one of the souls was near. Obeying the call Spike quickly left the hotel and went in the direction of the pull.

Spike travelled quickly his wings lifting high behind him desperate to fly but Spike knew his body was too heavy for them to carry him now.

He rounded a corner and went into an alleyway. Where the back wall should have been there was instead a murky white fog. Spike moved towards it extending his hand cautiously. It tingled on his fingertips and the tugging was even stronger.

Giving in to the pull Spike entered the fog. The tingling was harder across his body and burned when the fog touched his wounds. Pushing through Spike exited the fog into... hell.

This was L.A. of nightmares; the city was in ruins and burning. He could see shadows dancing in the flames and could hear screaming. In the small pockets of light hunched figures cowered from the shadows.

The name pulled him further down the street and as he walked between the fires the huddled shapes moved away from him faces averted. Not knowing how much time would pass back on earth Spike hurried on to find his next lost soul.

Another alleyway led him to the screaming and the flare of heat on his body told him he was in the right place.

Pinned to the back of the alley a young girl screamed. Metal spikes held her body spread against the wall and a large creature fed off the blood that poured out of a wound on her neck.

Moving closer Spike realised the creature was a monstrous caricature of himself in full demon form.

He threw himself at the demon creature pulling it away from the girl. The demon roared and flung him across the alley into a wall. It immediately turned its attention back to the girl.

Spike leapt onto the creature's back and tried to get a grip around its neck. The demon roared again and shook violently in an attempt to get rid of him. He clung on stubbornly and got a lock on its throat slowly twisting its head around until he heard the neck snap.

Spike fell to the ground suddenly when the creature disappeared from beneath him. Picking himself up Spike moved painfully over to the girl who was still screaming.

Reaching up Spike put a hand to the wound on her neck stopping the bleeding. The girl's screams eased to sobs as Spike took the pain into his own body.

"This is going to hurt, I'm sorry," he told the girl as he took hold of the spikes pinning her to the wall. Her eyes widened as she realised what he was about to do.

Keeping his eyes fixed on hers Spike pulled her free catching her body before she could hit the ground.

She screamed as the spikes were pulled free and was unconscious when he caught her. He lay her down gently and tended to the gaping wounds in her hands biting back his own cry of pain as matching wounds opened in his own palms.

When she opened her eyes he was still panting trying to control the pain he had taken from her. When her eyes focused on him she began to whimper with fear and he knew she recognised him.

"It's all right," he assured her, "I'm here to help you're safe now."

"Please don't hurt me," she begged still trapped in the night that he killed her.

"Nobody's going to hurt you," Spike assured her, "I'm here to take you home."

She looked at him fearfully and then saw the still bleeding wound on his neck and raised a questing hand to her own, "how?"

"You're safe now," Spike replied avoiding her question, "I've taken the pain from you."

She began to sob and he gathered her up in his arms, "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Why?" she sobbed, "why did you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly, "I was a bad man it wasn't your fault."

He held her while she cried and when she finally began to calm he picked her up and headed for the street.

"Where are we going?" she asked him finally.

"Home," he answered her.

* * * * *

Spike fell onto the bed in exhaustion. He had taken the girl as far as the gates of heavens where Michael had been waiting. He had not waited for healing worried that Angel might have noticed his absence.

And he didn't think he deserved healing. He didn't recognise the girl but knew she was one of the thousands that he had. Knowing she had been existing in a hell of his making hurt so much the pain of his wounds was nothing but background noise.

The hotel was silent as it always was, Spike knew Angel was in the building but beyond that everything was dead.

It suited his mood and he knew it suited Angel's. Sometimes he wanted to rant and rave like he used to do stir things up and get a rise out of Angel but it didn't seem to matter.

They had lost everything, he had thought it might be different when he returned but the weight of Angel's grief and the names on his flesh ensured the silence would remain.

Wearily Spike fell into a light sleep still attuned to the death and dust within the hotel.

* * * * *

Spike opened his eyes to find Angel standing over him again. His body ached and he could tell many of his wounds had not healed but he sat up trying to appear that nothing was wrong.

He obviously failed when Angel frowned, "you haven't healed," it wasn't a question.

"Just need some more blood," Spike stood and made to move past but Angel stopped him and tilted his head back to look at his neck.

"You had this last night?" Angel's frown deepened.

"Why?" Spike hedged.

"I didn't notice, I should have noticed," Angel touched the still angry red wound.

"I can take care of myself," Spike moved away from Angel's touch.

A fleeting expression of something crossed Angel's face confusing Spike again and then the dark vampire scowled, "then take care of yourself. I don't need half a damaged vampire slowing me down."

Spike glared back at Angel and then sighed, they always seemed to fall back into old patterns he didn't know why he expected anything else.

Angel looked startled at Spike's sigh but chose to let it go, "there's blood downstairs, I'll patrol alone you can join me again when you have healed," he ordered.

Spike bristled at the insinuation and then relaxed, Angel was right he needed the blood and Angel obviously needed the violence of patrol.

* * * * *

Spike was waiting in the lobby when Angel returned, the blood and rest had made his body feel better but he was worried about the older vampire.

Angel did not seem to care about anything even patrolling he was only going through the motions and using the demons as a way of releasing the rage Spike could feel bubbling under the surface.

Sooner or later that rage was going to cause Angel to make a mistake and Spike was afraid he would not be there to stop it.

Once he would have wanted to be there to watch it happen but that had changed the longer he had worked with Angel at Wolfram & Hart. He had been the first to volunteer for Angel's crazy plan not because he believed they stood a snowball's chance but because he believed in Angel.

When Angel trudged into the lobby Spike bit back a sigh of relief and went to heat some blood while Angel cleaned his weapons.

Angel looked surprised when Spike handed him the mug of blood but accepted it.

"What?" Angel asked shifting uncomfortably under Spike's gaze.

"Are you hurt? You are moving stiffly," Spike tried to see under Angel's leather jacket.

"Nothing serious," Angel replied still eyeing Spike cautiously, "why are you being so nice to me?" he demanded.

"Just making sure you're alright," Spike answered gruffly, "you did the same for me."

Angel nodded and finished his blood. They stood awkwardly in the lobby unsure of what to say. Finally they returned to their rooms neither sure how to reach out nor why they wanted to.

* * * * *

The nights fell into a pattern, they would patrol and kill anything they found. Spike had to watch Angel's back more and more as the dark vampire became more reckless.

They would return to the Hyperion and feed, sometimes they would make small talk about the fights but never would the names of those they had lost be mentioned.

Spike ached to reassure Angel of their peace but feared his reaction. Telling Angel they were in heaven would mean telling Angel what he had become and Spike wasn't sure how Angel would cope if he would even believe it.

Spike found an old television in one of the rooms and got it to work long enough to establish that very little had changed in the world. As always the mass of humanity was very good at ignoring the reality around them and Spike had to acknowledge that the real demons couldn't truly compare to the human ones.

Extra murders and disappearances meant nothing barely registering a blip on the media radar. Those closest to ground zero simply got more cautious and carried on with their lives.

Some nights Spike would be called to retrieve a soul and would pass into whatever nightmare world the soul was trapped in. It was never easy and always painful but Spike welcomed the pain. It cleansed him of the grief and taking the soul home gave him brief moments with Michael or Gabriel which lifted his spirits until he returned to earth.

Spike learnt to feed again after a trip to start the healing before morning so that Angel would not question his new wounds.

This worked until the first time Spike failed to release a soul. He tried to save the man but was rebuffed with fear and hatred. The man did not want to be saved, appeared to revel in the tormented world he inhabited.

Spike continued to try until the man pulled a gun and shot Spike several times in the chest screaming in rage.

Spike gave in and left regretfully. The bullet wounds hurt and had ruined the singlet he had taken to wearing to make the wings more comfortable. The night was nearly over when he returned to the hotel to find Angel waiting in the lobby for him.

"How long have you been going out on your own?" Angel demanded angrily, "why would you be so reckless?"

"Not fighting your demons Angel," Spike replied wearily, "taking care of my own things."

"What sort of business leaves you riddled with bullet wounds?" Angel stared at Spike's chest.

"Just let it be Angel," Spike answered heading for the kitchen.

"I can't," Angel followed him, "your behaviour could get you dusted."

Spike laughed hollowly at Angel's words, "been there done that mate."

"You always have to throw that in my face," Angel complained bitterly, "you saved the world, big deal."

Spike looked at Angel in confusion and then realised Angel was referring to Sunnydale not recent events. Had he really thrown that in Angel's face all the time? He had to admit when Angel annoyed him he had tended to taunt the larger vampire with what had happened in Sunnydale and what had happened with Buffy.

Spike winced as one of the bullets shifted in his chest and carried on to the kitchen without replying.

Angel watched Spike go with a confused look on his face and then followed.

To his eyes Spike had removed his jacket and was attempting to treat the bullet wounds while blood heated in the microwave, "let me help," Angel moved over to the blond.

Spike flinched as Angel came closer aware of his wings lifted behind him even if Angel could not see them.

Angel frowned at the flinch but picked up the medical supplies and proceeded to clean Spike's wounds. Spike submitted to Angel's attention trying very hard to keep his wings out of the way.

"I have to get the bullets out," Angel warned Spike as he prodded at one of the wounds.

Spike winced but nodded his agreement. Angel took a scalpel and carefully cut into the first bullet wound.

Spike hissed with pain and bit back a curse as Angel poked around looking for the bullet.

"Got it," Angel said triumphantly dropping the bullet onto the table and staunching the wound, "one more to go as far as I can tell."

Spike uncurled the fist he had made to try and control the pain and flexed his fingers to get the feeling back.

"You can curse and swear as much as you want you know," Angel commented as he finished the bandage on the first wound, "it has to hurt like crazy."

"I'll survive," Spike replied gritting his teeth again.

The second bullet was deeper and took longer to find and Spike was shaking with the effort not to scream. When Angel finally removed the bullet Spike sagged with relief and his wings drooped in exhaustion.

Angel started with shock when the feathers brushed over his arm and Spike jerked upright again.

Angel pinned Spike in place and reached over Spike's shoulder. He pulled his hand back in surprise and then reached over again. Spike could see the wonder in Angel's eyes as he began to see the wings properly and then the shadows of confusion.

"What's going on Spike?" Angel asked with deceptive calm his tension given away by how tightly he was gripping Spike's shoulder.

Spike sighed, he knew there had always been a possibility that Angel would find out and he had tried to think of ways to explain and had always come up short.

"In the alleyway," he stood up ignoring the blood still seeping from the bullet wound, "I didn't make it out Angel."

"What do you mean?" Angel demanded.

"I was dusted by a spear just after Illyria went supernova. I... I went to heaven Angel. But I didn't deserve to be there not really so they let me come back to continue my fight for redemption just like you are doing," Spike looked at Angel earnestly hoping the dark vampire would believe him.

"So what, you were in heaven and now you're an angel?" Angel's voice was full of suspicion.

"Yeah," Spike answered simply.

Angel laughed harshly, "and you expect me to believe that?"

"Didn't mean for you to find out, hell I don't even believe it most days," Spike began pacing the kitchen headless of his injuries.

"So why are you here?" Angel asked.

"Don't you listen?" Spike demanded, "Have to earn my redemption."

"But why here?" Angel pressed.

"Because you're here and you don't deserve to be alone," Spike replied pushed to reveal more than he wanted.

"You came back for me," Angel's voice was stunned and disbelieving.

Spike sighed and dragged a hand through his hair trying to marshal his thoughts, "the others are happy they've earned their rest but you and me we've got too much to make up for."

"The others, what are you talking about?" Angel stood and stopped Spike's pacing staring him straight in the eyes.

Spike sighed again but let Angel see a little of the joy he felt at saving the others, "Wesley, Gunn and Fred they're in heaven together and they're at peace."

Angel laughed harshly again but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes now. He reached out and touched Spike's wings again as if he expected them to disappear.

"But you still drink blood and get hurt."

"Immortal not invulnerable. Sides gave up my place in heaven, may have the wings but I'm no angel," Spike grinned wryly.

"That's true," Angel muttered obviously still not sure what to think, "why would you give up a place in heaven?"

"Soul didn't think I was finished, too much blood on my hands," Spike's hand stroked the names on his arm unconsciously, "got to fix what I've done wrong."

"Why couldn't I see your wings before?" the doubt was slowly disappearing from Angel's voice.

"Most can't see them only see what they expect to see but touch is harder to fool than the eyes," Spike explained.

"So I did sign away my shanshu then?" Angel sounded bitter.

"No you plonker, I died. Did enough to get a reprieve but it didn't feel like I should be there, it wasn't right. So I came back."

"And they let you?" Angel was still trying to make sense of everything.

"I wasn't happy and they knew that," Spike shied away from telling Angel about the names he had carved into his body, "They healed me and let me go."

Angel was still stroking Spike's wings absently and Spike could not hide the shiver of pleasure the touch brought.

Angel stopped and stepped back from Spike his face twisted with confusion, "I... I don't know if..." he turned and left the room abruptly.

Spike watched him go and then sat down to finish tending his wounds unsure of what Angel was thinking or how they would carry on from this.

Angel was gone for most of the next day and night. When he returned he was exhausted and covered in blood.

Spike had waited anxiously for him to return but when he did Spike had no idea what to say so resorted to anger to hide his concern.

"What the bloody hell have you been?" Spike demanded of the limping vampire.

"Sorting things out in my head, mom," Angel retaliated with irritation, "back off and leave me alone."

"And let you try some sort of stupid heroic suicide stunt?" Spike knew he had struck a nerve by the twitch under Angel's eye.

"Spike I'm tired and hungry, just let it go," Angel ordered brushing past the irate blond.

"Fine," Spike stalked up to his bedroom and threw himself onto the bed. He listened to Angel's movements through the hotel and then listened to the silence that soaked the building.

Finally Spike couldn't lie still any longer and he found his way to Angel's room. Standing in the doorway he watched Angel taking note of the weary frown that did not leave the shadowed face.

"Why did you come back here to me?" Angel asked without looking up.

"Because I needed to, because you needed me," Spike answered honestly in the silence.

"Even after everything?" Angel's voice was hollowed out of emotion.

"Even after everything," Spike agreed moving into the room.

"What was it like?" Angel asked and Spike knew the dark vampire had accepted his story.

"Peaceful, I felt loved and protected," Spike admitted, "and boring," he added.

Angel laughed at the comment, "and the others were there?"

"I fetched them, even Fred. The bastard lied to us about her soul, we should have realised, after all we got ours back," Spike growled.

"And they're happy really?"

"They're home," Spike answered simply.

"Thank you," Angel said simply.

"No problem," Spike answered and turned to leave.

"Spike," Angel's voice stopped him at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Stay, here with me, please?" Angel's voice was soft with weariness.

So he did.

There was a long and hard road ahead of both champions but Spike knew that given a chance they would both be allowed back into heaven and Angel finally let the hope back into his heart that he deserved redemption.

And the vampire named for angels and the vampire with angel wings fought on because that is what champions do.

THE END