Prompt 92 - Aftermath - BtVS

[thismaz]

 Title: Aftermath
 Fandom: BtVS
 Prompt: 92 - Centre
 At: tamingthemuse
 Rating: Older Teen
 Summary: Part 31. Set during the summer before season 1, Xander's life is changed radically when vampires invade it. In the meantime Angel and Spike have their own, separate agendas.
 Word Count: 3,280
 Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
 Previous parts:
 In reverse order, in tags here
 In my memories.
 Or, starting here with links to the next, at the end of each chapter.
 Some of Ethan's dialogue, borrowed courtesy of http://www.twiztv.com/scripts/
 Disclaimer: here.
Now beta'd by the wonderful laazikaat

Warning (highlight the white area to see the warning text):

Demon Spike/Vamp Xander story

dark_amia made a wall paper and she turned it into a banner for me. Lookee here -

Isn't it pretty?

31. Aftermath

Sunday evening

Opening his eyes, Angel rolled over on to his back. He felt heavy and relaxed and disinclined to move. Instead, he shoved his right arm behind his head on the pillow and studied the ceiling.

The cottage had obviously been built in the forties or fifties, but it's decor harked back to an earlier time. In the centre of the room, above the foot of the bed, the light fitting hung from a fancy, plasterwork ceiling rose and there was more moulded plaster around the cornice. Combined with the stark whiteness of the paintwork, it made the room look like an inverted wedding cake. On the opposite wall from the bed was a high marble fireplace which looked out of place, too large for the small room. The bed was also big and heavy. Like the moulded plaster and the mantelpiece, it was a relic of a previous age, leaving little space for anything else in the room. The alcoves on either side of the chimney breast were boxed in with panelled doors, marking them as built in wardrobes and to his right, the small windows were covered with heavy drapes which Angel knew hid deep windowsills, wide enough to sit on. Lying there, in the sweet lassitude of waking from a long and much needed sleep, Angel considered whether the original owner had designed the place to meet his particular needs, as well as his tastes.

Running his hand down his naked chest, Angel stretched luxuriantly, feeling the bones of his spine click back into place, one by one. He was free. Well, he paused and considered that idea, he was free from Luke's prison at least. Whether he was actually free beyond that was less clear. Remembering Spike's attitude the previous evening, he didn't think he'd be inclined to allow Angel to leave the house until after the ritual to restore Dru's health was completed.

The prospect of three weeks of further confinement was not an attractive one, but only in the sense that he was not accustomed to being restricted. As prisons went, this was far more luxurious than the stinking cells he'd endured for the past four days. And it came with additional perks.

Rolling his head to the left, Angel studied Drusilla's face. In sleep, she looked peaceful. He knew it was a false mask, but he accepted the illusion gratefully. There was solace in the belief that her restless spirit could occasionally find comfort. There was more to be found in the fact that it was he who could grant it to her. And that brought him back again to Spike.

For all that Spike had lectured Xander on the order of the sire and childe relationship, Angel was certain he'd glimpsed a flash of annoyance, even hurt, on Spike's face when Dru had closed the bedroom door on him. Closed it metaphorically, since she'd actually told him not to follow, before she and Angel left the living room. Where Spike had gone, Angel didn't know but he could make a very good guess. His lips quirked as he contemplated the odds of Spike remaining where he was and sharing sleeping quarters with Ethan. They would be somewhat less than zero, he thought.

Caressing the smooth skin of his belly, he scratched at his groin, fingertips catching in the tangled hairs and pulling them free of each other, shedding flakes of Dru's dried juices in the process. He'd comforted her, alright. More than once. He felt his lips twist into a smirk as he thought about the thickness of the walls and considered the chances that her cries and moans had penetrated through to the spare bedroom. Maybe not, since the house was so solidly built. He'd not heard anything from next door, himself, although that could just mean that Xander wasn't a screamer. Spike, as he remembered, was almost always silent in his love making.

Lying in Dru's bed, remembering his actions of the day, part of him felt guilty for usurping Spike's place. But another, larger and more insistent part, recognised its inevitability, its rightness. Dru was his childe. It was his duty to care for her and in her illness, it was his duty to do what he could to alleviate her suffering.

When Spike made his proposal, Angel's first instinct had been to refuse. "You want me to welcome Xander into the family?" he'd asked, confused and somewhat revolted by the idea; or maybe simply revolted by the instantaneous surge of emotion he'd felt at Spike's words. He shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can, mate," Spike replied airily. "You don't have to take him to bed. Just acknowledge him as my childe. Feeding's more important than fucking, and you know it."

What Angel did know was that he needed to feed if he was to finish healing. He spent a moment considering the chances of persuading Spike to get him blood from the hospital. He might actually succeed, since Spike wanted him healthy and co-operative for the ritual. At least, so he hoped. But there was no chance of getting hospital blood without notice, at least not by any means that Angel could sanction.

The woman was obviously already dead. Angel could see the faint flush of recent feeding in both Spike's and Xander's faces. They would have to be glutted, since they'd each killed before leaving the court's cells, and he knew they'd feed Dru themselves, if he refused. He reached out and picked up his whisky from where Spike had put it down. Spike opened his mouth, as if to protest, but Angel merely rolled the glass between his hands as he considered his options, and he closed it again. It was true, Angel thought, that he'd agreed to help Dru, but at the time he'd been referring to the ritual. He stared down into the glass, watching the whisky slosh from side to side and he remembered that he'd also said that he'd help Dru tonight, if he could. Spike didn't look like a man who'd be willing to go out again to negotiate the purchase of blood from the blood bank, assuming Nigel Mears was even on duty. Putting the glass back down, he held up his arms and studied the dark bruising. Long experience of his body and its moods told him that although the breaks had joined, the fractures were still brittle. One way or another, he needed more blood and animal blood would not serve. Glancing around the room, if only to avoid catching Spike's eye, he caught Dru's instead. She smiled at him sympathetically, as if she understood his pain and it was quite possible she did. It was part of her curse that she felt her family more intensely than other vampires. In the midst of his mourning over Liam's treachery and his guilt at his failure to protect Xander, the prospect of betraying Dru in her turn, suddenly seemed impossible. Slowly Angel nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Where?"

Point made and concession won, Spike grinned. "Right here," he suggested, waving his hand towards the sofa.

Angel looked at Ethan, who immediately shuffled along the seat and scrunched himself into the corner, leaving the remaining acres of cushion free. Tightening his lips thoughtfully, Angel considered suggesting one of the bedrooms, but before he could voice the idea, Spike strode across the room, grabbed Ethan and bundled him out into the kitchen. With a shrug, Angel strolled over to the sofa and sat down.

As they waited for Spike to return, Angel watched Xander, who still stood, dithering by the bureau. He looked so uncertain of himself and so resembled Jeb, that it touched a nerve in Angel. "Don't worry," he said. "It certainly won't hurt."

Xander nodded convulsively and took a deep breath as if to steady himself, but before he could reply Dru spoke. "Kitten," she said, gesturing Xander to her. "Come here. I have a secret to share with you."

Immediately, Xander went over and knelt at the side of her chair. Angel couldn't hear what she said, but he saw Xander's head jerk once, as if with surprise. He watched them, their two dark heads bowed together as she whispered in his ear; they looked like a pre-Raphaelite painting - the knight at his lady's feet. Then she made a shooing movement with the backs of her hands and he stood up again, going back to his place by the door. Dru looked over at Angel, her expression saucy, and she winked.

A moment later Spike returned and shepherded Xander to the sofa, guiding him to sit next to Angel. He gave Xander's hair a soft stroke that extended down to the back of his neck and looked at Angel across the top of Xander's head.

"Welcome to the family, Xander," Angel murmured, as he reached his hand up, slipped it beneath Spike's and pulled the boy towards him.

As his fangs pierced Xander's neck the boy's body stiffened. Then the blood began to fill his mouth, with minimal effort on Angel's part. Oh, Xander was full and overfull and the blood flowed over his tongue and into his throat, rich, still slightly warm, still carrying the elusive flavour of life, but with that additional tang, and it sent Angel's senses flying. The energy, the taste of magic and darkness and the sheer familiarity of it flooded him, rolling over and through him like an ocean wave. Vaguely, Angel was aware of Spike's voice whispering softly, shushing and encouraging, but his focus was on Xander and Xander's gift. Without him being aware of it, his arms closed around the boy, pulling him tight to his chest, one hand rubbing circles between Xander's shoulder blades. He drank and felt the power flow through him, closing cuts, dispersing bruises and binding fast the weak bones of his arms. The supply seemed never ending. Until it was. Far beyond any ability to formulate conscious thought, Angel's body did his job for him and when the resistance would normally require his throat muscles to add extra suction to the task, instinct took over and he stopped. Slowly he drew his fangs free. Pulling his head back, he focussed on Xander's face. The boy's eyes were closed and he wore an expression of blissful abandon. Yet again the image of Jeb rose up in Angel's mind. Cupping Xander's cheeks, he bent his head and placed a kiss on Xander's forehead and another, softly, on the lips. "Thank you, my childe," he said. "That's enough now."

Flopping back, Angel allowed his head to fall against the cushions and watched through half closed lids as Spike pulled Xander to his feet and settled him again on the floor at Dru's feet. With a smile that almost looked like happiness, Dru began to stroke his head, as she had done before.

While Spike returned and settled in Xander's place, Angel raised his arms to inspect the skin. The ugly bruising was almost completely gone. What remained would disappear over the next few hours. He sighed and relaxed into the chair.

Spike's hand on his chin, turning his face towards him, pulled Angel back to full consciousness. "You remember why we're doing this, mate?" Spike asked, although he didn't sound angry or impatient.

"Yeah, sure, I remember," Angel replied, pushing himself up to sit upright again and turn slightly to face Spike. Spike leaned forward and tilted his head, and something in Angel roared with satisfaction, before his fangs had even touched skin.

If drinking from Liam was seductive and drinking from Xander was exhilarating, holding his grandchilde and feeding from him was as far beyond both of those as the sun was beyond the moon. Again Angel's throat muscles hardly needed to ripple as the blood flowed out of Spike's neck and into Angel's mouth as if pushed like the tide. And where Xander's gift had sent him flying, Spike's offering brought him back, back to the room, back to Dru sitting in her chair nearby, back to Xander at her feet, back to memories of Darla and Penn, back even to the taste of Lawson. He felt as if he were just one speck in the continuum of the family and they were all connected through the blood that flowed across his tongue. For the first time in months, maybe years, he felt himself fully harden. His hands clenched around Spike's upper arms as he pulled him closer and Spike's own hands slid around Angel's ribs, up his back to grip his naked shoulders, before stroking down again and stopping, gripping hard at Angel's sides, just above his waist.

Once again, it was Angel's body that recognised when the feeding was complete.

When Spike drew back Angel hauled himself upright and walked across to Dru, who lifted her hand to him. Pulling her gently to her feet, he placed an arm around her shoulders and together they turned to look at Spike, lying bonelessly in the corner of the sofa, where Angel had left him. "Don't follow, pet," Dru said. "My Angel and I are taking this next door."

That was when he saw the flash of an expression cross Spike's face. Spike had expected her to stay, as they had done, in the open forum of the family room. Still caught in the last tendrils of memory, Angel recognised that look, he recognised the hurt, almost betrayal, before Spike schooled his face to neutrality. "Of course, sire," he agreed.

Suddenly the memory of Liam crashed over Angel like a tidal wave and he shivered. Drusilla looked up at him. "Oh poor baby," she crooned. "You thought he was family, but he left you stranded, high and dry. You see how confused you are." She laughed gently before continuing in a chiding tone, "You think it's so important, that soul? You think it makes you almost human? Oh, my poor, poor dear. You really don't know." Then she took his hand and led him, all unresisting, into the master bedroom and closed the door behind them.

They'd lain on the bed together and it had been good. It had been amazing. He'd forgotten the powerful sensation of feeding from family. Even more so had he forgotten the impact of the reciprocal. Having Dru once more in his arms, suckling from him, as she had done as a childe, before the madness that took him away from her, from all of them, was like sliding back in time. And if the memories were tinged with regret for how he'd done it, he found that any desire to regret the creation of her, as an act in and of itself, was a feat beyond his powers to fulfil. And when her delicate, teasing hands slipped inside his clothes and began to undo buttons and slide down zippers, he didn't fight. Rather, he joined in, releasing her laces and hitching her skirt, until with a moan of completion, he slipped inside her as she continued to nurse gently at his neck.

And now it was morning and he had to face the consequences of his action. His grandchilde would not reproach him, after all, it had been Spike's idea. But Angel found his own mind was doing a good job, all on it's own. There was no way Spike would want him to apologise. He wouldn't even understand why Angel should. But Angel remembered that look, that moment of betrayal and it chilled him, just as Liam's betrayal had. Although why he should feel betrayed, he wasn't sure. Liam was human. They did that, as he should know. They did it between themselves and they did it to others. He had the personal evidence of a submarine crew sacrificed to twisted greed in the forties, a hotel in LA in the fifties, where one scapegoated life had been tossed to the mob with never a thought, and Detroit in the sixties, where it was only by running that he'd avoided a betrayal that would have jeopardised his soul. Even yesterday he'd received the further evidence of unforgiving and sanctimonious humanity, provided by the watcher in his reaction to a man who had obviously once been a close friend.

On that thought Angel rolled silently out of bed, grabbed the pile of his clothes from the floor and tiptoed out of the bedroom. In the hall he tugged his trousers on, but finding that he only had one of his socks, left his feet bare. Regardless of Spike's plans, he'd need someone to go back to his apartment to pick up some clothes for him. Three weeks living shirtless was beyond what he was willing to endure.

Padding down the hall, he entered the kitchen and looked around with interest. Jesse was curled up under the kitchen table, a blanket covered lump on the bare floor, and the body of the woman was gone. He nodded to himself with approval; Spike had obviously learnt to keep a clean lair at some point in the last hundred years. Crossing the room to the other door, leading to the living room, he slipped through. Sure enough Spike was not there. Ethan, however, was.

Ethan was also drinking. His wrists and ankles were both bound, but apparently he'd managed to stand up at some point and hop across the room to the liquor supply. He was now sitting, almost prone on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, drinking from the open neck of a bottle which was held tightly in both hands. The Bushmills, Angel noted with a sigh of regret.

What are you doing?" he asked. "It's barely evening!"

"So it might be, my friend," Ethan slurred. "But I've been alone out here for the whole day." He nodded towards the coal scuttle on the grate. "Couldn't even get to the loo. But waste not, want not, I managed to reach the important things." He looked up at Angel, squinting as if to fix him in one place. Angel knew the feeling. "Anyway," he added, with a hiccup, "Something bad is happening. Bad for both of us. Bad for all of us." Taking in Angel's sceptical look, he giggled. "Just kidding!" Then he suddenly turned serious. "But something bad is going to happen to me." He paused and studied Angel critically. "So you," he said, once more cheerful and pointing his two index fingers vaguely in Angel's direction, "should relax. Enjoy the night." Lifting the bottle in a toast he added, "Here's to me."

Looking down at the man, Angel addressed the one part of that speech that appeared to make sense. "Why do you think something bad is going to happen to you?"

"Can feel it in my bones, dear boy. Can feel it in my bones. Plus, you must remember, I saw your grandchilde kill my master. Can't have that now. Mustn't be any witnesses to a death like that."

Angel began to wander around the room, studying the pictures on the wall, the huge television that dominated one corner, the few books on the shelf behind it. "Spike said he'd let you go, in exchange for the spell," he observed over his shoulder.

"Yes, he did, didn't he? That was nice of him."

Turning Angel studied him again, wondering if he was really as drunk as he appeared. "But you don't believe him." It was a statement, not a question and Ethan didn't bother to reply. He just took another swig from his bottle. Going back to the bureau by the kitchen door, Angel picked up the Glenmorangie and sat down next to him.

Continued here.

Comments

[sparrow2000.livejournal.com]

I love the image of the ornate room as an inverted wedding cake - what is a wedding but a time when family who normally never talk to each other are forced into company and to be polite - we've had the dinner and the speeches, now I'm waiting for the fights to start *g*

Beautiful, lyrical description of Angel's emotions when he was feeding. As always it's the details which make the storytelling so rich - Xander kneeling at Dru's feet, like a PreRaphaelite painting, Jesse curled up under the kitchen table, Angel finding he has only one sock, Angel drinking 'whiskey' as opposed to 'whisky' and finally Angel's acknowledgement of the hurt and betrayal on Spike's face, so swiftly masked.

One of the things I really like is that Dru is much deeper and in control than she is often portrayed. She's ill and she's a seer, but she's not a basket case. She knows exactly what she's doing when she takes Angel out of the room - it's a silken cord, but it doesn't make the binding any less tight.

Bravo, love. That was wonderful.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

My goodness, that was quick. I hadn't even finished giving it a last read through.

I love your extrapolation of the wedding cake analogy. I was merely describing a bedroom I once had. *g* Fights? Would this lot really fight? *snerk*

I'll admit, I really like this Dru too. I thought about what she was like during that brief period between her cure and Angelus' return and it seemed to me that to keep Spike so loyal for so long, she must have had power and rationality. And yes, she knows exactly what she's doing. *g*

Thank you so much. I'm so pleased to know you enjoyed it.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Angel is starting to realize just how much trouble he's in, isn't he. I hope that Spike proves Ethan wrong, though. I mean, Ethan's a usable guy, and if Spike kills him, I can't even imagine how Angel is going to react.

And poor woobie!Spike. He does all this for Dru, and she turns her back on him. I'm so glad that he had Xander.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Angel is hellava contradicted at the moment, swinging from one emotional response to the opposite. I think he might be getting a bit concerned though, yes. *g*
Poor Spike, yeah, but that's the way the sire and childe relationship works in this 'verse. He thought he was going to be sending Xander off to sleep in the spare room alone, but he ends up joining him. But that is also what a childe if for, perhaps. It's why Dru made Spike, after all.

[sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com]

I really enjoyed the complexity of the relationships portrayed here. Too often in fic we see one-sided views of these characters and I think part of that is a carryover from the show. Trying to squeeze the history and the entangled feelings of Spike, Angel, and Dru into an hour-long show focusing on another character entirely? Yeah, some things just have to be inferred or rest on supposition...

However, I enjoy that there's no "bad guy" here. Everyone is a person (being?) with their own needs, desires, faults and so forth, but not presented as malicious or evil for the sake of evil. It makes for a more realistic and intriguing story. Thank you for such an enjoyable story.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad you are enjoying the family, here. The idea of the ties that bind Angel/Angelus to Spike and Dru was one of the things I wanted to explore with this one. I agree that the in a show centred on Buffy and her life, there wasn't much room to get into the detail of the Angel/Dru/Spike relationship, but as you know that is actually nice, because it leaves more room to play and speculate.
I enjoy that there's no "bad guy" here.
Yes, thank you. They are all working within their natures, doing what vampires do, coloured by their personalities. I am so relieved that that appears to be working.
Thank you so much for the lovely comment.

[texanfan.livejournal.com]

Angel seems supremely comfortable in his 'captivity' here. From his commentary on the evils of humanity I think helping Buffy has sunk from his to do list. I suspect Ethan isn't likely to find a rescuer in him either.

Really enjoying the family dynamic you're building here.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Yes, he's comfortable, for as long as it takes him to wake up properly. *g*
Thank you, I'm so glad to hear you are still enjoying the family.
And I hope I manage to carry off Ethan's eventual fate, convincingly.

[laazikaat.livejournal.com]

My internet died for a few days and now I'm catching up, so sorry this is a bit late.

Love the whole 'family' thing, and feel sorry for poor Spike, glad he's got Xander. Loved Jesse sleeping under the table like a vampire Cinderella. He really is at the bottom of the totum pole, isn't he?

Ethan thinks everyone is as untrustworthy as himself I think.

Still loving this.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Hey, no need, ever, to apologise. It is lovely to see you at any time.
Yes, poor Spike, although he would look at you like you were crazy, if you told him he'd been wronged.
Jesse is finding his place, and yeah, it's at the bottom of this heap. It was quite fun when I realised that I had run out of rooms, so he had to sleep in the kitchen. *g* I'm still not totally sure what happens to him in the end.
Ethan though... Ethan does have a more immediate fate. It has been interesting seeing the comments about him, I'll be equally interested in seeing the reaction to that.
Thank you for reading and for telling me you are enjoying it.

[smwright.livejournal.com]

Late, of course, but what do you expect these days, eh?

I can't even begin to know what to say about this chapter. It was so sensuous... yes, that's the word... sensuous that I kept losing track of the detail it was so beautifully wrought. The myriad descriptions of feeding were incredible, all capped by Dru's "suckling" and "nursing." Geez, but that was just wonderful.

Poor Angel. So very real.

Three weeks living shirtless was beyond what he was willing to endure. For some reason, this just seemed to pull it all together for me. *g*

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Hey, hon. Nice to see you. I'm late too, but with far less reason. *g*

Sensuous is a good word. It's odd, but it was only when I read this back for the first time that I realised it was all water and tidal metaphor, so sensuous is a perfectly lovely word. Thank you.

For some reason, this just seemed to pull it all together for me. *g*
*laughs* After all the highfalutin imagery, it seemed important to return to earth. And also, Angel has his priorities. *g*

Thank you so much.