Prompt 65 - Blood and love and duty - BtVS

[thismaz]

Title: Blood and love and duty
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 65 - Gingery
At: tamingthemuse
Rating: Pg
Summary: If pre-season 1 isn't AU already, I guess this is where it goes AU. This is also where it begins to get complicated.
Word Count: 3,640
Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Disclaimer: here.
Now beta'd by the wonderful laazikaat





4. Blood and love and duty
Saturday, Sunday, Monday
The welcome to Sunnydale sign crumpled to the ground without too much protest. Certainly, the big, black car didn't seem to notice the resistance, since it didn't slow down as it tore through the previously quiet streets, before screeching to a halt near the small garden in front of the town hall. The driver's door opened and a foot in a heavy boot stepped out and planted itself on the ground with a solid thump, followed by its partner and then the rest of a thin, young man's body, dressed in a long, black, leather coat. He glanced around the square with a proprietorial air, blowing out a cloud of acrid tobacco smoke and taking a deep breath full of the scents of the town in its stead. Nodding to himself, satisfied he was in the right place, he decided it was time to find a place to hole up for the day. He would begin his hunt at sundown.

*****

Spike just knew it couldn't be easy. It should have been easy. He should be able to just walk up to Angelus and tell him the score. Explain what he needed, what Dru needed, and Angelus should help.

It had only taken Spike an hour to locate his Sire, even through the myriad of confusingly familiar scents, and for a moment he'd been delighted to think that he wouldn't have to hang around in Sunnydale for long, after all. But he'd just watched Angelus take out one of his own; only a newly raised minion, but still a minion of Aurelius. That was just weird. It went against instinct. You could always recognise family and, on the whole, you didn't kill them. Certainly not for the simple crime of walking down the street. Individuals who schemed behind your back, who proved incompetent or got in the way, sure, it was common sense to get rid of them, but what Spike had just seen was so arbitrary.

It was obvious from the minion's reaction to Angelus' appearance, that he hadn't know him, but his fledgling demon had recognised Aurelius. His hesitation, his automatic move to bow or kneel, that had been his downfall. Angelus had staked him, just like that, when the poor bastard was about to offer obeisance. It was the soul, of course, but there had to be more to it than that. Last time Spike had seen Angelus, on a submarine in the middle of the Atlantic, Angelus had been protecting humans, but he hadn't killed Lawson at the end, let alone Spike, himself. Sure, he'd thrown them out of the submarine, miles offshore, but he'd known they would survive. So the soul wasn't the whole story.

There was hardly a vampire in this town who didn't belong to Aurelius. Spike could smell the Master everywhere. Which kind of explained the deceptive peace, if not the human inhabitants' blindness. The Master had never been one for above-ground living. He stayed below and built his court there, allowing his people to bring food to him, so Spike was not surprised that he'd not had sight of him, but it was odd for only minions to be about.

Minions were too stupid to keep their game faces out of sight, for the most part. So stupid they'd not even scented him, a true childe of the line. Minions who survived, tended to get better, but some never learnt to control their faces. Spike had seen Luke in the streets earlier. Luke had been with the Master for centuries and now he was here. Luke, with his unquestioning loyalty to his maker, doing what he was told and only exactly what he was told, still in permanent game face.

More worrying was the occasional hint of Darla. What he had scented so far was too tenuous for Spike to be sure if she was in town herself, or merely that she had made some of the vampires who were. He'd have to pin down one of her get and ask them where she was these days. Because if Darla was in Sunnydale, Spike would have to revise his plans, just do a snatch and grab and get Angelus out fast. Angelus was his only hope. There was no chance that old Heinrich would agree to help his mad great grandchilde. The only person less likely to help was Darla, herself. The Master had never approved of Dru, although he'd called upon her gift occasionally. Spike he could not abide and the feeling was mutual. Even Angelus had only had his grudging respect, for most of his existence, and then only after he'd taken Darla and made a reputation for himself in Europe.

Spike allowed himself to muse on the nature of Darla. She was an ice-cold bitch and devoted to her Sire, but she'd defied him when Angelus was still a fledge and left his court to live the life Angelus wanted, at Angelus' side. Spike remembered back to the first twenty years of his own death. Much of the time Darla had behaved like a giggling school girl and, although she occasionally asserted her authority over Angelus, it was sometimes difficult to recognise that they were Sire and Childe. She allowed Angelus to rule her in ways that were not natural to the relationship. Spike had never seen him raise his hand to her, but he had seen the cold commands which she obeyed. Of course, he'd also seen her strike Angelus and force him to submit to her will, on occasion. The number of times she'd thrown him out of her room... She was quite capable of ignoring him for days on end if she really wanted her way. Spike had never seen Angelus last more than a week of that treatment, before he went crawling back to her feet, full of apologies and promises of amends, willing to do whatever she wanted. He really didn't want to cross paths with Darla. Nor did he want her to confront and reject Angelus again, driving him out of town. God knows how long it would take Spike to find him if he did that.

Spike hadn't thought about Angelus and Darla together for close on a hundred years. Never really thought about it back then either, except in the ways it impacted upon him and Dru. Then, Angelus' relationship with Darla had been important to him because it often enough made the difference to whether they ate or not. Certainly it decided how much of Angelus' attention was likely to be directed Spike's way.

He paused in his thoughts, re-evaluating his memories with the objectivity of distance, separation and more experience of the world, and he suddenly realised that the true power had always been Darla's. The twisted game of 'Angelus In Command' had been just that - role-play for their mutual enjoyment. In truth Angelus had always been at Darla's feet. She'd just let him pretend otherwise, most of the time, so she could lie back and enjoy not being responsible.

Hard on the heels of that insight came another, about the nature of his relationship with his own Sire. The personalities were different, but the motivations? Maybe it was being the female sire of a male childe. Vampires lived for centuries, but they were always the products of their human lives. What Angelus, Darla, Dru and he all had in common was a human life where the men ruled. The very fact that Darla had been an independent woman of her time could be what made letting Angelus 'rule' their family so attractive. No one truly escaped their past. Spike was willing to bet that even Heinrich's behaviour was still coloured by his human life, whatever and whenever that had been. After all, he lived in sewers and they were very like caves. Spike snickered to himself. And Dru? Dru had been the dutiful daughter of a middle-class merchant. She came from the stifling respectability of Trade. Barely twenty years his senior, she was hardly more than a fledge herself when she made him. Dru appeared to depend on Spike to a far greater extent than Darla had depended on Angelus, but in truth, was it very different? Dru had visions which, when they attacked, made her sound crazy and she had developed fey, dreamy mannerisms which lulled the unwary into believing her harmless, but that was a mask. Under it, she was intelligent and calculating and quite capable of ruling a household. More than capable of ruling him. When she was well. And that brought him back to where he started. Dru needed her Sire, if she was ever to be well again.

The fact that Dru also wanted her Sire was a truth Spike had come up hard against many times in his un-life. It was a fact of his existence, like the grass being green; he no longer questioned it. He didn't even resent it. He was Dru's until she dusted, or she sent him away, and Dru belonged to Angelus. Angelus had released Spike from the sire bond with a simple phrase which Spike had been too euphoric to even recognise at the time. It was not until the next day, with Angelus gone again, that Spike had realised that the feeling of release was not a lingering result of Slayer blood, but actually a change in his status. In half his status, since Dru had never released him, as Angelus had never released Dru. And Dru was his true sire; his Sire of Blood. Angelus had had power over him, as the sire who had taken him on and trained him. Angelus had fed him blood and made him strong, but it was Dru's blood that made him and blood spoke to blood.

Shaking his head at his own uncharacteristic musings on what was well past, Spike brought himself back to 1996 and his current problems. So the Master was in Sunnydale, but apparently keeping himself scarce. That was interesting. Darla may or may not be in town, too. He would have to ask. And Angelus still had a soul. Angelus was his quarry. He needed Angelus, willing or not, to help Dru. So he needed a plan to get his help. Or if that failed, to kidnap him. Angelus was still Angelus, and always would be. That meeting on the submarine had shown Spike what 'Angel' was; still a user, still a cold-hearted bastard, even with the soul. Unlikely to kill his childe, but equally unlikely to go out of his way to help her. Spike would need to find a lever, something to encourage Angelus' help. It pained him to admit it, but only Angelus could do what needed to be done for Dru.

Spike drew back and continued to watch Angelus from a distance, careful not to come too close. Careful, so Angelus wouldn't sense him too clearly and realise that one scent that was Spike, amid all the other scents of Aurelius that filled the town like a familiar, family fug. He watched and waited and followed Angelus to his nest, before he retired himself to the motel that was currently enjoying his patronage.

*****

The next night found him again trailing Angelus, trying to work out what the old bastard was up to. He watched as Angelus prowled the graveyard and killed a minion as it rose. And that was odd too - no one was waiting for the minion to rise. In a town owned by one family, there should have been someone there to collect. The lack of discipline was intriguing. It looked like too many minions were making minions and no one was taking responsibility. If he hadn't seen Luke he'd have imagined there were no true family members here at all, other than Angelus and himself... Maybe there weren't? But Luke never left the Master's side... had never done so at any time since he was made. Luke may be old enough to have acquired some authority, but he would always be a minion. He didn't have the power to fight his way to master status. He doubted Luke would choose to live if the Master died himself, or threw him off.

Spike shook his head as he tried to figure it out. Unless Luke was following orders, holding the fort until the Master arrived? That was possible and a minion in charge of the town fitted with the total sense of disorganisation. It also supported the notion that Darla wasn't around either, and that was good. Was that what Angelus was doing? Actually stepping into a vacant space and taking responsibility for the family by killing off the weak?

He continued to watch throughout that night and the next, becoming more and more puzzled. It was clear that Angelus was weak, a kitten could have bested him, which would explain why he hesitated before engaging with any of the vampires already around town. It could also explain, in part, why he killed the newly risen. Maybe he was keeping in practice, while he regained his strength, but Spike hadn't seen him feed. In fact he'd seen him buy blood, for God's sake. As if pig's blood would do him much good.

After three nights of watching, Spike decided he really needed more information before he could act. It proved predictably easy to corner and catch one of Darla's make. Not that the creature knew much, but she was happy to talk when faced with a railroad spike, a stake and Spike's obvious status in the order. Spike got enough to be certain that Darla was out of the country, hunting up some book or other. Luke was holed up in a sunken church for some reason. The Master wasn't around, but was expected to return, according to what the creature had heard Luke say. She had no idea the significance of a particular new moon, but Spike heard the truth in her voice so he disposed of her quickly.

Something was nagging at the back of his mind. He had a brief flash of Angelus standing over him. 'History's important, Boy. How can ye avoid making the same old mistakes, if y' don't study yer history?' Spike shrugged to himself - well he never had. It hadn't interested him. Languages yes, but history? It reminded him too much of Mr Snape, at school. For a moment he allowed his mind to wander back in time, through his personal history with Angelus. Angelus was his surrogate Sire, his mentor and teacher, his companion and General, his Alexander to Spike's Lysander, his Mercutio to Spike's Romeo, his Arthur to Spike's... Lancelot? Galahad? Spike shook his head in disgust. Now he was being ridiculous, but it did make him think. Maybe he'd been doing this all wrong? Maybe he shouldn't assume Angelus wouldn't help? Maybe he should just ask him? Maybe he should think about doing that tomorrow night. Or maybe he should just march over right now. Spike nodded to himself. He drew himself up, pulled his shoulders back and straightened the collar of his duster. Glancing around he tried to spot where Angelus had gone. 'Bugger!' He took a deep scent of the air and began to track.

Spike caught up with Angelus next to a recent grave. Angelus was squatting down obviously waiting for the fledge to rise. Spike coughed to attract his attention. "One of yours, then?" he asked.

Angelus started and stood quickly, spinning on his heel to face Spike. For a moment Spike thought he saw a flash of welcome in Angelus' eyes, but then his expression tightened to one of hard disapproval. "What are you doing here, William?" he asked coldly.

'Oh yes. This was a brilliant plan,' thought Spike, but he had to try, now that he was committed. "Er... looking for you actually."

Behind Angelus the soil on the grave began to move.

Again, the fleeting expression that could have been pleasure, before Angelus' features hardened again. "Go away Spike," he said. "You have nothing to say to me, that I want to hear."

A hand appeared out of the ground, clutching at the air, then settling onto the soil to help the fledge pull itself free of its grave.

Spike took a half step forwards. "No mate, listen, it's..."

"Go away," Angelus interrupted. "In fact, get out of town. There's nothing for you here."

"It's Dru."

Angelus paused for a moment. "What about Dru?"

"She got hurt. She's fading. She needs you."

Angelus laughed. "Oh boy. That must have hurt. You, asking me for help?"

Spike felt the wash of useless failure threaten to swamp him, but he drew on his desperate need. "Not for myself. For Dru. She needs her Sire. You can make her well. She needs your blood. I can't lose her. Please?" He took a few steps towards his grandsire, lowering his head in supplication. "Whatever you want. Please come with me? A few months and you can make her well again. Strong. Then you can leave, if you have to. Or you could stay. Please, Sire?" By the time he'd finished he was ready to go down on one knee, if Angelus had looked like he wanted it.

He risked a glance at Angelus' face. His expression was remote and cold. "Months, William? No, I don't have months to spare. I need to be here. The Slayer's coming."

For a moment Spike didn't understand, then it burst in on him with an explosion of incredulous joy. "Sire? You're back?" he cried. "This is fucking fantastic! I thought the soul had neutered you. But if you're planning on killing a Slayer..." Angelus looked about to speak, but Spike overrode him eagerly. "Please. She'll still be here when you get back. Or if she isn't, the next one will. There's always another Slayer. But come to Dru, first. Then we can kill the Slayer together. Did you know I was in New York in..."

"Shut up!" Angelus roared, shocking Spike to silence. "I'm not going to kill her." he explained. "I'm going to help her."

Spike's world rocked again. "Help her?" he gasped. "But...? Dru...?"

Angelus pulled himself up stiffly. Behind him the fledge was now free to its the waist and was hauling itself out of the ground, hands torn and bloody from its coffin, unnaturally bright, gingery hair tangled and full of soil, face and long black dress smeared with grime. It scrambled to its feet.

"I have to be in Sunnydale when the Slayer arrives. She'll be here soon, in the next few months. I can't leave. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

He turned away, just in time to be bowled over by the fledge and they fell together, in a tangle of limbs and torn lace. Spike watched as Angelus, lying on his back, attempted to keep her fangs away from his neck, unable, it seemed, to get sufficient purchase to throw her off.

Spike walked over and grabbed the fledge by the hair, hauling her away and forcing her to her knees at Angelus' side. He bent down, his mouth close to the fledge's ear. "Apologise," he growled. "Apologise to the Lord Angelus, for your disrespect."

As Angelus levered himself into a seated position, the fledge shot a glance at both of them and obviously decided to err on the side of caution. "I'm sorry, My Lords," she babbled, placing her hands flat on the ground and bowing her head. "I didn't mean any disrespect. I didn't know. I'll never do it again. I promise."

Spike sighed and looked down at Angelus in the dirt as he lifted his other hand, to cup her chin. "Can't make good help these days," he observed as he twisted her head off. He slapped his hands together, to rid them of residual dust, but made no other move.

Angelus clambered to his feet, a confused expression on his face. "Why did you...?"

"My Sire," Spike sneered. "You might have forgotten about lore and duty, but I haven't. You may be a sorry, soul-having arse, but you're still family and that thing showed disrespect. It was trying to eat family. Can't have that, it's like incest. 'Sides, Dru needs you."

Taking a couple of steps back, Angelus settled himself into a solid stance, as if ready to resist another charge. "I'm not coming, Spike." Spike looked him up and down, causing him to glance down himself and notice the dirt and smeared grass stains on his shirt and trousers. He began to wipe at them, ineffectually, in an attempt to clean himself up.

"Right," Spike said. "So this is home sweet home, is it?" He turned his back. "I'll see you soon, then," he added, throwing the words over his shoulder as he walked away.

'Well, that was interesting,' Spike thought, as he left the graveyard. It looked like this might take a while. Briefly he considered leaving, going and fetching Dru and seeing if she could persuade her sire, where he had apparently failed. But if he left, Angelus might up sticks. Spike didn't believe that cock and bull story about waiting for the slayer so he could help her, not for a moment. Even souled up, Angelus couldn't have fallen that far. Spike needed a new plan. And in the meantime, he'd find a better base to work from than the motel, where the manager or room service felt free to walk into his room at anytime during the day. If all else failed, there was always Plan B. Or maybe that should be Plan C. As he sauntered through the human streets in search of a meal, he tried to work out how he could kidnap Angelus, now that Angelus knew he was in town.

Continued here.