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Travellers 3 - Angel's story.
by Lilithangel
http://www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
He stood in the rubble of L.A and there was nothing left. Everything he fought for has been destroyed by his decisions. He thought they could defeat the Senior Partners and instead they dragged L.A into hell. He thought he could save everyone and ended up watching too many of them die.
Now the battle was over and nobody won anything. His time human taught him just how lousy he was at it. It shouldn't be a surprise really since he hadn't been that great at it the first time around. He hated how long it took to heal, hated the false bravado and reliance on magic he needed to even the fight. And he regretted even more dragging his humans into the fight, knowing just how much everything hurt.
Nothing felt as good as the moment his heart stopped beating again.
Too many dead for too small a victory. His fumbling speech to the troops all the more useless the face of the dead.
Spike staggered past discarding weapons as he went. He saw Angel there but he didn't say anything. Angel didn't understand why but followed him to the edge of the battlefield. He fished out a battered packet of cigarettes and then searched for his lighter. When he didn't find it he shrugged ruefully and lit the cigarette on the dying flames of a demon corpse.
"We fucked that one up didn't we?" he said.
Angel was amazed he said we, assuming he'd want to lay blame. He'd have been right to in this case. Angel opened his mouth to reply and realised there was nothing he could say.
Spike didn't seem to expect an answer as he continued to speak. "Too many dead this time though. Just you and me left now."
It hurt to think that, to admit the others have gone, dead thanks to him. Kate, Nina, Gunn (twice now). Connor and Lorne as good as dead since they saw the portal close in front of them.
Angel wanted to scream, mourn their loss. Cover himself in ash, beat his chest and cry until he's a dried out husk. But he didn't deserve that.
Spike was watching, his annoyingly perceptive gaze seeing more than Angel would want him to, if he could make himself care.
"Nothing keeping us here now," Spike said surveying the devastation. "Think I might take a walk."
For a moment Angel thought Spike meant to walk into the sunlight but then realised that is something he would never do. Spike was the ultimate survivor despite his huge reckless streak that Angel was pretty sure was going to end him someday.
Spike was watching as if he expected a response this time, but Angel was so lost in thoughts that he stopped. Flicking away his cigarette he turned and walked out of the city.
Angel stood and watched him, frozen in indecision. When he disappeared from sight Angel realised that he was completely alone. He spent a hundred years alone and doesn't know if he can do it again. He knew he couldn't walk into the sun either, not because he was a survivor but because he didn't deserve the peace.
His feet started to follow Spike while his mind was still spinning. His nose showing the way; he couldn't ever mistake that scent.
As dawn approached he found shelter in an abandoned garage. Spike was about a mile ahead and Angel knew he's taken shelter too.
The next night he continued walking and Angel continued to follow. Angel could feel the gnaw of hunger starting but it will be days before he is really hungry so he ignores it.
After a couple of nights Angel realised he was heading towards Sunnydale. He didn't understand what drew Spike there. It was just a crater now, nobody was there. Angel had seen the satellite images and knew it was a wasteland. Angel kept following though; there wasn't anything else to do.
The suburbs had become farmland and people were living their lives as if L.A hadn't exploded less than a week ago. As if the whole area wasn't crawling with military and media trying to figure out what happened. Angel could have told them but nobody would believe even with the bodies of the human and non-humans his nose told him were rotting in the streets. The stench nearly overwhelmed Spike's scent until they got far enough away.
Spike was avoiding people as well and Angel didn't think he'd been feeding either. Angel
knew Spike knew he was following him, but he kept walking even as they slowly get closer. Angel hadn't spoken to anyone since the two started walking but he didn't mind. There was so much going on in his head that the silence outside was a blessing. He didn't know how Spike was coping; he'd never been good at silence.
Angel smelt blood one night and found the carcass of a deer on the road. He could smell Spike on the body and knew the blond has left it for him. The blood was still warm and barely congealed. Angel could tell Spike was in the shadows watching until he knelt and drank. When he finished, feeling stronger than he had in days, Spike had already walked on.
The next night he stopped at a roadside bar and got drunk. Angel stood in the shadows outside and waited for the fight he knew was going to happen. Spike tumbled out of the bar wrapped in fists and blood. Spike laughed as he fought even as he was overwhelmed and Angel finally acted. He was not prepared to lose Spike not now. He has become his lodestone and Angel knew he would be completely lost without the blond.
His knuckles itched from the fight and he could taste the coppery sweetness of human blood. He didn't care as he licked the blood from his face. Blood was blood. He might not be willing to kill a human but their blood made him strong and he needed to be strong to protect Spike. Spike wouldn't let Angel fix up his injuries after the attackers were dispatched, but he let Angel bring down a cow to feed from.
Spike had taken to talking to the darkness knowing that Angel was listening. Rambling
conversations as if Angel were replying. Angel was replying in his head, and it was disconcerting how accurate Spike was.
Spike didn't reach the crater that was Sunnydale. Drawn away to a field where an old car lay rusting. He climbed inside and appeared to be talking to it. Angel didn't intrude, uncomfortable by the grief he hadn't shown before.
Angel stood in the starlight and let the silence seep into his bones and it felt good.
Spike left before dawn, talking about Alaska and Argentina. Angel didn't care where he wanted to head. Angel never expected it but he was happy for Spike to lead.
The noise in his head was quieting down. The screams of the fallen dying away as he slowly let the recriminations go. He couldn't forgive himself for the dead but he couldn't change their choices either.
They were being watched, he felt the watchers, demon and human who wanted to know what had happened to the mighty Scourge of Europe. Somewhere in the distance they were being followed as well. Manifesting as an itch at the back of his neck he couldn't identify or shift. Not close enough to be a threat so he did his best to ignore it.
Instead he found words floating in. Words from a world he's not heard for a long time. Descriptive words that roll around in his head and distracted him. Yoke the crosspiece his human self had grudgingly fastened over too many animals and the guilt he willingly fastened over his own shoulders. Whelp his favourite word for William when he joined the family, as much an insult of Drusilla as Spike. Kissing the gunner's daughter Naval punishment involving tying a sailor over a gun barrel for caning. He'd always liked that one when he punished Spike, even going so far as to use a real sailor's daughter once.
Once long ago he'd wanted to be a sailor, to escape the stifling ordinariness of his life. Instead he became a vampire. Keckle was what he was doing now, wanting to wrap Spike up and protect him from being fretted. Even if it was only from ignorant humans who only saw a strange blond man who appeared to be talking to himself.
Angel knew how stupid that was, that Spike would tell him that, had told him that a dozen times already. Spike could handle himself, but Angel needed to still be a protector, the champion Spike said he still was.
Spike said it while he let Angel check his body for wounds they both knew weren't there. Angel needed the contact to reassure he wasn't just a phantom of Spike's imagination. He needed to wake up touching Spike, now that he'd stopped watching from a distance.
Spike thought he was trying to replace Connor and he almost got angry at him. For the suggestion and for forgetting the times they had sat and combed his hair after a bath. Few and far between they might have been but Angel's never forgotten. Those times inevitably ended in sex and Angel wondered if that is what he wanted now.
Angel didn't know to be honest, but Spike was family, the blood never lied about that. More than that, he was there and he seemed happy for Angel to stay and he felt so very real in Angel's arms. More real than Angel felt he deserved.
There was more out there to threaten them both, the slowly healing itch in his chest a reminder of that. Yet the journey was slowly healing wounds they both shared and he was happy to keep travelling so long as they could have a few more of those restful moments.
END