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2020-11-05
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Forget Me Not

Summary:

Fandom: AtS
Characters: Spike/Angel, Fred
Genre: schmoop
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for m/m kissing and nudity.
Summary: Spike has amnesia after deciding to take care of him Angel discovers feelings for Spike. Spike comes up with a way to try and get his memories back. For shanmara who gave me the plot bunny and for the tamingthemuse prompt Argos. Thanks also to shadow_in_eden for the comment about the English shop which made a lot more sense to this story than the mythology.
Submitted through http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Spike_Slash

Work Text:

 

Forget Me Not
by Lilithangel
abchainey@xtra.co.nz
http://www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint

 

"Spike, wake up."

The voice was a long way away but wouldn’t leave him alone. Everything hurt and he didn’t want to wake up in case it started to hurt even more.

"Spike that’s enough. Why won’t he wake up?"

"He suffered a bad head injury Angel it could take some time."

"He’s a vampire, surely he’s had enough time."

The voices weren’t making a lot of sense, angels and vampires and what the hell was a spike?

* * * * *

His head hurt and it got worse when he opened his eyes. There were bright lights and harsh white walls. A girl was sleeping, arms resting on his legs. He thought he should recognise her being as she obviously knew him unless she was a nurse who had had a hard night. She didn’t look like a nurse though in a very pretty summer frock.

His body hurt except for his legs and he felt a stab of panic until he realised he could feel the weight of the girl. He didn’t know why he had been scared since his legs were fine, but it made him realise there were huge gaps in his mind where memories should be.

His panic must have shown in his body because the girl opened her eyes suddenly and bounced up.

"You’re awake," she said excitedly, "I knew it would only take time. The others will be so pleased, well not as pleased as me and Lorne but Angel’s been here everyday to check up on you. Wes and Charles have come most everyday asking. Gunn brought the CD player and Lorne burned your favourite music as best as he could guess."

He listened to her happy babble enjoying her excitement even as he had no idea about what or who she was talking about. Before he could ask her why an angel was visiting him a big man entered the room.

"Angel he’s awake," she said to the newcomer, "isn’t that great?"

"It’s about time," the other man said grumpily making him wonder why this man would have visited everyday.

This time a doctor interrupted his chance to ask questions and he was subjected to a series of tests to see if he could see, hear, and react to annoying smacks on the knee.

The pretty girl and the dour man stayed throughout the examination and the doctor spoke to them at the end.

"His reactions are a bit slow but his eyesight and hearing are fine."

"He’s right here you know," he said feeling disgruntled at being treated like an invalid.

"We know Spike, we know," the big man said.

He frowned at the name, "is that my name, Spike?"

"Of course it’s your name," the big man said with a matching frown, "what are you playing at?"

"It’s a bit of a strange thing to be called is all," he said.

"Spike, do you know who I am?" the girl said.

"Should I?" he replied and then regretted it at the look of disappointment on her face, "I’m sorry but nobody here is familiar."

"This isn’t funny," the big man said, he remembered the girl calling him Angel but that seemed as stupid as Spike.

"You don’t have to tell me that," he said, "I don’t think I remember anybody," he tried to concentrate but it was hurting his head to think.

"I’m Fred," the girl said, "that’s Angel. You don’t know the doctor but you should know us."

Angel turned to the doctor, "he can’t have amnesia can he?" he demanded.

"It was a very bad accident and he was in a coma for several weeks so it is possible even for one of your kind. On a positive note he should make a full recovery we just can’t predict the course of the injury since we have so little real data about rates of healing in vampires."

"So he could have amnesia?" Angel said.

"Yes Mr Angel he could," the doctor said.

"Or he could be faking."

"We will need to perform more tests to be sure."

Now he was certain that he was in a lunatic asylum. It sounded like they were talking about vampires. The girl seemed normal but her head might suddenly start spinning around for all he knew.

"Is this all some sort of joke," he managed, "what’s my real name?"

"Your name is Spike," the girl Fred said.

"As if you didn’t know," Angel added quietly.

"No I don’t know," he snapped, "I don’t know who you are, where I am or why you keep talking about vampires. My head hurts and I want to go home except I don’t remember where that is either."

"Angel, I don’t think he’s faking it." Fred placed her hand on Angel’s arm.

"We’ll see." Angel crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Spike.

"What happens now?" Fred asked the doctor.

"We run a few more tests and then set up an appointment for physical therapy, the Mr Spike can go home," the doctor replied.

He relaxed at the words, he didn’t know where home was but it had to be better than this hospital room.

* * * * *

"He can’t stay here Angel." Fred looked around the basement flat in dismay, "it’s a dump."

Angel looked around the bare grubby room. He had come along because he didn’t trust Spike with Fred, but he hadn’t expected this. He knew Spike didn’t really care about his surroundings but this was bad even for the blond.

Nothing had appeared to change with Spike over the week since he woke up. Physically he was better but still there were no memories of who he was or what he was. He had accepted the vampire bit after a short period of freaking out with his first trip to the bathroom.

Either he really did have amnesia or this was the most elaborate scheme Spike had ever managed to put together. Angel still wasn’t sure which theory made more sense, but he still didn’t trust the blond.

Spike wandered around the flat trying to find anything that he recognised. It felt cold and empty and Spike felt sad that this was supposed to be his life. No photos anywhere to jog his memory, no obvious mementos of times past. Just the barest minimum of furniture and a video game machine. He picked up the joystick and fiddled with it trying to see himself there and failing.

"You’re coming home with me," Fred said decisively, "this is no place for you to recuperate."

"No," Angel snapped.

"He can’t stay here," Fred said.

"I’ll be fine," Spike said dropping the joystick and smiling at Fred, "don’t worry."

"See," Angel said, "he’ll be fine."

"No, it’s not right. You need someone to take care of you."

"Can take care of myself, pet," Spike said earning a suspicious glance from Angel.

"You’ll stay with me," Angel said to all of their surprise, "my place is big enough and I can keep an eye on you. Fred can visit when she has time."

"That’s settled then," Fred said happily, "let’s just pack a few things and head over there." She went over to the single dresser and pulled open drawers.

"Everything I own is white or black," Spike said looking over her shoulder, "and exactly the same, do I shop at Argos or something?"

"What’s Argos?" Fred asked.

"Online clothing store in England, bloody useful thing for vampires when the shops are closed," Spike said pulling out the clothes, "how the hell do I know that and not my parents’ names?"

"Amnesia is funny like that," Fred said.

"You haven’t had parents for over a hundred years," Angel added.

"How long have you known me?" Spike asked but he was distracted by a glaring omission in his clothing. "I don’t have any underwear."

Fred giggled, "You don’t wear any."

"You always did set your own fashion," Angel said absently as he continued to look around the barren space.

"How hygienic is that?" Spike said in shock.

"You’re a vampire, hygiene is not a problem," Angel said, "are you ready then?" he asked. Now that he had decided to have Spike stay Angel was keen to get out of the dingy place Spike had called home.

"Let’s go then," Spike said shouldering the duffel bag he had stuffed his clothes into.

"There’s nothing else you want to take?" Angel said.

Spike looked around the space that he had apparently called home and shook his head. "If there is anything I don’t remember it."

"Not even your leather jacket?" Angel said casually.

"I have a leather jacket?" Spike perked up.

"Don’t worry the hospital didn’t damage it, I’ve kept it safe," Fred said.

"Cool. What does it look like?" Spike asked Fred as they left.

* * * * *

Two days later and Spike was bored out of his tree. Nothing had come back to him yet and he felt completely at his wits end. Fred had bought him books and DVD’s to watch guessing his tastes with some of them. He wasn’t sure what he thought about her guesses. Most of them involved blood and gore which was fun but got boring really fast.

He found some books of Angel’s and they were even more boring. It was really hard not knowing what you liked and what you didn’t. Fred had told him to look at it like an adventure. That had lasted less than a day which made him wonder if he normally had a short attention span or what.

Angel didn’t spend a lot of time in the penthouse but had made it very clear that Spike wasn’t to leave it.

Fred had returned his jacket and Angel had stared at him waiting for a reaction or something. It was a cool coat but since he was stuck inside he didn’t see much point in wearing it.

The lift doors opened and Angel walked into the penthouse. "Any memories today?" Angel asked as he always did.

"Nope," Spike said as he always did, but this time it came out harsher than normal. "I hate this, not knowing who I am, why Fred is the only one who visits me voluntarily, why you seem to think I’m lying all the time, and why I feel like my hair is wrong," he said dragging one hand through the offending hair.

"You normally gel it back pretty hard," Angel said blinking with surprise.

"Oh… what colour is it?"

"Peroxide blond."

"Why would I dye it blond?"

"It was something in the eighties I think," Angel replied.

"Tell me some more, please," Spike said, "I know the doctor said some rot about my memories coming back on their own but it’s driving me crazy."

"We didn’t see each other for a long time," Angel said heading for the liquor cabinet, "you and Dru stayed together."

"Dru?"

"Drusilla is your sire and my childe. You loved her very much." Angel poured two glasses of whiskey and brought them over to where Spike was sprawled on the sofa.

"Where is she, what happened?" Spike accepted one of the drinks and curled his legs up to make room for Angel. Angel stopped in his move to one of the chairs and sat down next to Spike.

"Dru didn’t like you falling for the slayer and left you, I tried to set her alight. Neither of us has seen her in a while."

"What’s a slayer?" Spike perked up.

Angel laughed, "That is exactly the way you reacted the first time you heard about them. Vampire slayers are just that. You have killed several including the one who owned the leather coat before you."

"That seems a bit insensitive of me." Spike frowned.

"You would see it more as honouring her as a valiant enemy."

"I would?"

"Well a good fight anyway." Angel laughed again.

"So you are my sire’s sire? We’re family."

Angel went to take a sip of whiskey only to find he had finished his glass without even tasting it. "Yes we’re family in a way."

"Would you like to see pictures? They might help." Angel realised he had accepted Spike’s amnesia as real. There was no way a Spike with all his memories would want to sit around and talk. Angel shook his head as he went and fetched his portfolio, Spike hated him and he hated Spike. It was the way it was always going to be.

Spike had put aside his whiskey and was sitting waiting for Angel. Angel sat back down and sorted through his drawings, putting them into some sort of order.

First he showed Spike one of the few pictures he had drawn of the four of them from before everything had changed. In all their Victorian finery they had posed for a photograph and he had used it as the basis of his drawing.

Spike studied the drawing carefully then shook his head. "That’s you, so that must be me," he said, "I don’t recognise the women at all."

"That’s Darla, my sire and that’s Drusilla." Angel pointed them out. "It was about ten years after you were turned we were in Venice."

"Did we enjoy it there?"

"Until you got us chased out of the city."

"I did, why would I do that?"

"You were always impetuous. We were chased out of lots of cities thanks to you or Dru. We ended up hiding in a mine in Yorkshire once, I nearly dusted you."

"Why didn’t you?"

Angel looked surprised at the question. "I’m not sure. I just never could to be honest. You were fun to have around when I wasn’t angry with you."

"We weren’t… intimate then?" If vampires could blush Spike would have been bright red from the question.

"What?" Angel would have been just as red. "Why would you think that?"

"Just something Fred said the other day about you having me up here when we hate each other. She said there must have been something between us after a hundred years."

"The stuff that happened before we got our souls, well… things changed." Angel pulled out other drawings. Darla, Drusilla, Spike in various outfits over the decades. Then some of Buffy when Spike didn’t respond to anything.

"Do I know her?" Spike asked.

"Does she seem familiar?" Angel kept his voice level.

"No, but you have drawn her with a lot of emotion. She obviously matters to you and I wondered if she mattered to me too."

Angel dithered over his answer. A part of him was happy that Spike didn’t recognise Buffy and therefore wouldn’t want to go to her. Another part wanted Spike to remember even if he lost the other vampire. "She was once," he said ignoring the direction of his thoughts, "she mattered to both of us."

Spike shrugged and looked at the portfolio in Angel’s hands, "are there any more of me?"

"A few," Angel confessed pulling them out. Most were from Sunnydale including some from when Spike was in a wheelchair.

Spike frowned, "I remember being afraid when I woke up that I couldn’t feel my legs. Why was I in a wheelchair?"

"A church organ dropped on you when you were trying to kill the slayer."

"But I got better."

"Yes you did and you will get your memory back too."

"God I hope so." Spike let his head fall back onto the sofa. "I hate not knowing. What did I used to do for fun?" he asked changing tack suddenly.

"I don’t know. Drinking and video games mainly I think, and annoying me." Angel resisted the urge to run his fingers through Spike’s hair to comfort the blond.

"I can see where that would be fun," Spike said with a grin.

"It will happen," Angel said seeing the lines of strain around Spike’s eyes despite the smile.

"Do I have any friends?"

"Fred likes you and so does Lorne," Angel said, "Wes and Gunn are warming to you and I’m pretty sure some of the Accounting department have been asking after you."

"You didn’t include yourself," Spike said.

"We’ve almost been friends a couple of times but things keep getting in the way." Angel finally said.

"What things?"

"Us mainly."

Silence fell between them and Angel continued to flip through his drawings while Spike stared at the ceiling.

"Why can’t I remember?" Spike finally spoke.

"Maybe you don’t want to," Angel suggested, "I sometimes wish I couldn’t remember."

"No you don’t," Spike said, "you really don’t. Not knowing anything, not even the simplest things like why you always wear black, what gets you horny, who loves you."

"You didn’t used to just wear black that started in Sunnydale. Everything gets you horny and I can’t answer the last one I’m sorry." This time Angel did let his hand rest in Spike’s hair.

Spike didn’t say anything and he didn’t move away so Angel left it there while he took Spike through more of the drawings. He showed the blond Xander, Willow, Giles, Oz, Cordelia and Wesley before bringing out more of Buffy.

With each picture came another story of Spike’s encounters with each of the humans. Angel didn’t pull any punches about any of them. Detailing the torture, hunting, kidnapping and attempted murder.

Spike listened to them all without reaction. "It just doesn’t seem real," he said, "I can’t even see myself doing any of that."

"You didn’t have a soul then and neither did I for some of it. You got your soul back though. You fought for it and won it back."

"Why?"

"For Buffy," Angel forced himself to say it.

Spike frowned and looked at one of the pictures Angel had drawn of her, "then surely I would want to remember her."

"When you came back you decided not to contact her, do you want to now?"

Spike shook his head, "not like this, not without knowing who I am."

Somehow Angel’s hand had slipped down to the back of Spike’s neck and his thumb was rubbing gently in circles. Spike sighed and closed his eyes.

"Does your head still hurt?" Angel asked.

"Only when I think too much and don’t tell me that’s normal."

Angel laughed, "Okay then I won’t."

Angel was a little shocked at how easy it was to relax around Spike. It was still Spike, the snark was still there but without the anger between them.

Angel hadn’t wanted to think about his reaction when they bought Spike’s body to the clinic. He was used to seeing Spike injured but this time the blond had been so still and just not there… it had scared him for the first time to think that Spike might not be around.

Now with the amnesia Spike wasn’t pushing him away, wasn’t fighting with him at every step and it was nice. Except that it was making him remember other feelings.

"I need to go to bed," Angel said standing up abruptly, "busy day tomorrow."

"Could I come down and hang out?" Spike asked, "Maybe something will jog my memory. I’m going stir crazy up here."

"Okay," Angel agreed reluctantly, "but only if you promise to admit if you get tired."

"Fine," Spike huffed but there was a pleased smile on his face as if he was happy that Angel was worried about him.

The next day Spike came down with Angel staring at the offices in fascination. A shriek of excitement made them both jump as Harmony hurried over.

"Blondie bear it’s so good to see you." She hugged Spike who looked at Angel helplessly.

"Harmony let him go before you break him," Angel said wanting to help Spike.

Harmony let him free while continuing her babble, "you look better, did you like my unicorn? I find them to be very healing. How are you feeling? I would have come and visited but grumpy guts here said you needed to rest."

"Thanks Harmony, I’m feeling a lot better," Spike said edging closer to Angel.

"Two mugs of blood please Harmony," Angel said to distract her and he led Spike into his office.

Spike immediately sat down in the chair he always took and then stood up again with a frown. "Not very comfortable," he said by way of explanation and slouched over to the couch.

The rest of the day passed with Angel holding meetings and doing paperwork while Spike did indeed sit quietly and watched with interest. The others all welcomed Spike’s presence with the right words and, in Fred’s case hugs.

It was obvious from the friendly but distant way Spike responded that he didn’t remember any of them. Although he returned Fred’s hug with rather too much enthusiasm for Angel’s liking.

Angel looked up from his paperwork to find that Spike had fallen asleep on the couch. He found himself studying the pale form intently trying to understand what had changed in his feelings. It was still Spike and when he got his memories back he would remember all the antagonism that Angel had tried to tell him about and then what?

Spike woke up and saw Angel watching him. He smiled and Angel knew it might already be too late because that smile just made him want to smile back.

"You finished yet?" Spike asked him.

"Yes I have." Angel decided suddenly, "Do you want to do something tonight, go to a pub or something?"

"You’ll have to pick," Spike said sitting up, "I can’t remember any for some reason."

"Do you want to invite the others?" Angel worried that Spike would think it was a date.

"Do you want to?" Spike worried that Angel was tired of spending time with him alone.

"Not if you don’t want to," Angel said.

"Okay then."

They looked at each other awkwardly until Spike snorted, "Let’s go then."

The pub was fun. They both agreed that the Celtic theme was tacky and completely wrong but the beer was good. Angel shared more of their history this time focussing on the fun if destructive things they had gotten up to.

At one point Spike glared suspiciously at Angel, "are you taking the piss on any of this?"

"What, no, why?"

"You’ve got to admit it seems pretty wild. If I hadn’t seen the evidence in the mirror I’d think you were bonkers."

"It’s all true I promise," Angel tried to cross his heart but had lost enough motor function for it to not quite work.

From then on Spike started to participate more in the conversation and somehow it became a philosophical debate about right and wrong with Spike’s hands flying all over the place. Angel became fascinated with them and couldn’t stop from grabbing one hand so he could study it.

"What are you doing?" Spike didn’t try and remove his hand from Angel’s grasp.

Angel placed their palms together staring at them intently. "There’s nothing about them to show the terrible things we’ve done, all the blood we’ve shed."

Spike impulsively slipped his fingers down to squeeze Angel’s hand, "we’ve both been trying to make up for it that has to count for something."

"Maybe." Angel wrapped his fingers around Spike’s.

"I’m a pretty physical type aren’t I?" Spike asked suddenly.

"Yeah you are," Angel said, "you have always lived securely in your skin."

"Then I have a favour to ask."

"Sure anything," Angel said.

"You might not think so when I ask. I need to touch things, I think it would help if I could."

"Like what?"

"Like you."

"Me?" Angel squeaked.

"It’s like you have been a part of my existence from the beginning, a lot of my memories are tied up with you. Nothing has helped so far and it’s driving me crazy." Spike let go of Angel’s hand and finished his beer without looking at Angel.

Angel looked at his hand which still tingled from Spike’s touch. He didn’t know how he would cope with Spike touching more of him but the look on Spike’s face made him realise what it cost the blond to ask.

"Okay," he said, "how do you want to do it?"

"Back at your place," Spike suggested.

"Now?"

"As good a time as any."

* * * * *

When they got back to the penthouse Angel stood hesitantly in the lounge not sure what Spike needed.

"I want it to be just about touch so I want to be blindfolded," Spike said, "and I need you to be naked. You can back out if you like."

"No, if you think it will help," Angel said nervously. Angel led the way into the bedroom and hung up his suit jacket.

"I’ll do the blindfold thing first if you don’t want me to see you naked," Spike said.

"You’ve seen it before," Angel said as he sat down to remove his socks.

"Well I don’t remember it," Spike grinned.

"Where do you want me?" Angel asked.

"Why don’t you lie on the bed," Spike suggested looking for something to blindfold his eyes with.

"There’s a sleep mask in the beside table drawer," Angel said noticing what Spike was doing. "It was there when I moved in," he added at Spike’s grin.

Spike pulled off his boots and shirt then settled on the bed next to Angel. "Tell me to stop anytime you want," he said as he pulled the mask over his eyes.

Spike waited as he adjusted to the darkness and his other senses reached out. He could hear Angel shifting slightly to get comfortable hands moving randomly until they settled on the mattress. He could smell the beer they had drunk and underneath that the ever present blood that kept them both animated.

Spike reached out and made contact with Angel’s ankle encircling it with his fingers as far as they could reach. He moved around so his other hand could brush across the soft hairs of Angel’s calf feeling the strength beneath the skin.

In the darkness he could imagine the flex of Angel’s feet as he shifted to encircle both ankles and pulled his hands back to touch those same feet. He ran his thumbs down the soft skin of the arches and over the heels where he lingered on the calluses on the edge earned from decades of fighting and training in martial arts.

His hands moved up the hairy legs lingering on a thin scar on one knee feeling the ridges under his fingertips. Angel shivered at the gentle touch every nerve reacting, his hairs lifting off the skin.

Spike’s thumb found a mole on one thigh and he straddled Angel’s legs searching for other small imperfections on the pale flesh his brain did not remember.

Sliding past the slowly stirring groin Spike’s fingers splayed out across Angel’s belly as if searching for something. One finger dipped into Angel’s bellybutton and swirled around inside forcing Angel to bite back a chuckle.

The feel of Spike’s jeans on his increasingly sensitive skin was a minor distraction from watching the hooded face. He hadn’t realised just how much he relied on searching Spike’s eyes for clues until they were hidden from him.

The full lower lip was caught between white teeth as Spike concentrated on what he was feeling and Angel’s cock stirred even more.

Spike’s hands lingered on the ghosts of scars on his chest. Angel remembered each and every one as if they had only just happened and Spike’s touch sparked tingles of memory.

When those fingers brushed across Angel’s nipples he knew they were already erect and yearning for touch.

Spike rolled the nubs gently between fingers and thumbs caressing the raised skin around them.

Angel couldn’t hold back the gasp as Spike leant down and replaced hands with lips. Their groins pressed together separated only by rough denim and neither could deny the arousal Spike’s actions sparked between them.

Spike’s lips moved softly across the swell of muscle on Angel’s chest pausing to kiss skin with the ghosts of injuries he couldn’t consciously remember causing but somehow knew were there.

His hands slid around Angel’s shoulders fingers finding the tattoo he couldn’t see tracing it in intricate detail. Then he caressed down the sides of Angel’s body pausing at every place pokers had been plunged into the now smooth flesh.

Angel grabbed fistfuls of sheet to stop from reaching out and touching Spike not wanting the blond to stop his rediscovery of Angel.

The lips moved up to the hollow at Angel’s throat and he could feel the smile as he swallowed suddenly nervous at the proximity of teeth to his vulnerable throat.

Spike nuzzled into the side of Angel’s neck and inhaled taking in the sweet tang of Angel’s arousal before a tongue snaked out to lick unerringly on the spot where Darla had taken his life so long ago. His groan of need was swallowed by soft lips lightly pressed against his own.

Then they drifted away to place soft kisses on Angel’s cheekbones and eyebrows. Finally they came to rest on the bridge of Angel’s nose and he could feel small puffs of breath. Spike was laughing.

"Cavemen would absolutely win." Spike pulled the blindfold off and looked into Angel’s eyes. "My body knew you even when my mind forgot," he said kissing Angel once more on the lips and then making to move.

Angel’s arms darted out pulling Spike’s body close. "I let you go once I’m not going to do it again. Our bodies knew well before we did, maybe it’s time we listened to them."

"It’s been nice these last few days even without my memories."

"Can we make some new ones?"

"Yeah."

 

END