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cityphonelines) wrote2007-05-30 11:46 am
cityphonelines) wrote2007-05-30 11:46 am
Fic - Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey (Spike & Angel)
Characters: Spike & Angel
Rating: R for language and mild imagery
Timeline: Early part of BtVS Season 7
Written for written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
felisblanco, originally posted Oct. 2004 in Sickchicks
Angel stood there on the Hellmouth once again. Buffy had called and he came running. Typical. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how many times each of them died he’d always come to her aid. Or so she thought. He had his own things to deal with, but as soon as she’d mentioned Spike, he jumped in his convertible and sped back to Sunnydale.
Now he stood in the concrete cutout doorway in the new and improved high school basement, staring at the vampire he’d molded from raw clay. Always Angel’s best pupil, right to the very end. At least Spike’s soul was earned, not deserved. Buffy said he wasn’t right, that he rambled on and she thought that maybe she should put him out of his misery, but she thought Angel had a right to know. He’d stopped her, told her he’d take care of it. He’s Angel, that’s what he does. He stepped toward the frail, dirty figure in the corner, hands out in that ‘you’re crazy, but I won’t hurt you’ kind of way.
“Spike? Spike, it’s me, Angel. Buffy said you were, um, sick. I’m here to see how you are.”
“Call you to get rid of me did she? Sodding bitch, doesn’t even have the balls to stake me herself. Can make me bleed and swell in an alleyway, gouge bloody furrows in my back like an animal, but she can’t put me out of my misery. Heartless, beautiful bitch. Fucked her, y’know. Took your lovely, pure slayer and shagged her rotten. She loved it, she’s a dirty whore when you get her going.”
Angel grit his teeth, he’d had a feeling, but Buffy had dodged everything he’d thrown at her. He wasn’t sure which angered him more; that Spike had touched his girl or that Buffy had touched his boy.
“She used me Angel, I just wanted someone to love and look after and she twisted it. Why does everyone twist it around? Why doesn’t anyone let me stay with them. Am I ugly Angel?”
Angel felt something in him crack and spill and ooze. “No Spike, you’re beautiful, you’ve seen my drawings of you. My perfect boy forever.”
“On the inside Angel, am I ugly on the inside? It hurts Angel, you never said it would hurt. Did yours hurt, does it ever hurt less? God, Angel, are you real? Am I? I don’t know anymore.”
“Yes, Spike, I’m real.”
“No, no one’s real anymore. Ghosts, hands pass right through. Angel, make it stop, please. She’s here you know, shaking her blonde head and laughing at me.”
“Spike, I’m real, dammit. Look!” Angel stooped down and pried Spike’s hands from around his head and laid them on his wide chest. “See, they stop, they don’t pass through. I’m real and you’re real. I’ll take you back with me Spike. I can take care of you and I have friends that’ll help me. Like Fred. She was crazy for awhile, she’ll understand. Come on, take it easy,” he helped the skinny broken vampire to his feet and tried not to stare at the crisscross of bloodlines across his chest. Ignored the urge to lick them clean and then open them up again. “Take it easy, take it easy.”
Spike leaned against the larger man –vampire, not man, vampire, but not dirty like you, better than you- and looked up. His mouth turned up in a haunted smile, "Y’know Angel, everybody’s got something to hide except for me and my monkey."
Rating: R for language and mild imagery
Timeline: Early part of BtVS Season 7
Written for written for
felisblanco, originally posted Oct. 2004 in SickchicksAngel stood there on the Hellmouth once again. Buffy had called and he came running. Typical. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how many times each of them died he’d always come to her aid. Or so she thought. He had his own things to deal with, but as soon as she’d mentioned Spike, he jumped in his convertible and sped back to Sunnydale.
Now he stood in the concrete cutout doorway in the new and improved high school basement, staring at the vampire he’d molded from raw clay. Always Angel’s best pupil, right to the very end. At least Spike’s soul was earned, not deserved. Buffy said he wasn’t right, that he rambled on and she thought that maybe she should put him out of his misery, but she thought Angel had a right to know. He’d stopped her, told her he’d take care of it. He’s Angel, that’s what he does. He stepped toward the frail, dirty figure in the corner, hands out in that ‘you’re crazy, but I won’t hurt you’ kind of way.
“Spike? Spike, it’s me, Angel. Buffy said you were, um, sick. I’m here to see how you are.”
“Call you to get rid of me did she? Sodding bitch, doesn’t even have the balls to stake me herself. Can make me bleed and swell in an alleyway, gouge bloody furrows in my back like an animal, but she can’t put me out of my misery. Heartless, beautiful bitch. Fucked her, y’know. Took your lovely, pure slayer and shagged her rotten. She loved it, she’s a dirty whore when you get her going.”
Angel grit his teeth, he’d had a feeling, but Buffy had dodged everything he’d thrown at her. He wasn’t sure which angered him more; that Spike had touched his girl or that Buffy had touched his boy.
“She used me Angel, I just wanted someone to love and look after and she twisted it. Why does everyone twist it around? Why doesn’t anyone let me stay with them. Am I ugly Angel?”
Angel felt something in him crack and spill and ooze. “No Spike, you’re beautiful, you’ve seen my drawings of you. My perfect boy forever.”
“On the inside Angel, am I ugly on the inside? It hurts Angel, you never said it would hurt. Did yours hurt, does it ever hurt less? God, Angel, are you real? Am I? I don’t know anymore.”
“Yes, Spike, I’m real.”
“No, no one’s real anymore. Ghosts, hands pass right through. Angel, make it stop, please. She’s here you know, shaking her blonde head and laughing at me.”
“Spike, I’m real, dammit. Look!” Angel stooped down and pried Spike’s hands from around his head and laid them on his wide chest. “See, they stop, they don’t pass through. I’m real and you’re real. I’ll take you back with me Spike. I can take care of you and I have friends that’ll help me. Like Fred. She was crazy for awhile, she’ll understand. Come on, take it easy,” he helped the skinny broken vampire to his feet and tried not to stare at the crisscross of bloodlines across his chest. Ignored the urge to lick them clean and then open them up again. “Take it easy, take it easy.”
Spike leaned against the larger man –vampire, not man, vampire, but not dirty like you, better than you- and looked up. His mouth turned up in a haunted smile, "Y’know Angel, everybody’s got something to hide except for me and my monkey."
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