Bring Forth The Night
Chapter 5
The brown bag crinkled as Spike shifted it to a more comfortable position. “Some dread creature of the night I am – carrying a bleeding grocery sack.”
He hated that he had to buy his cigarettes and blood like any average bloke. The damned chip in his head had made it hard enough to get cash, now his soul wouldn’t let him scare people into giving him theirs anymore.
“Not like I’m hurting anyone.” He sucked in a drag until the fire hit the filter. Tossing it away, he watched the cherry bounce off a stone angel and ricochet into the darkness. “Barely keeping body and soul together on the bit Buffy gives me.”
The door to his crypt was open, light flickering out onto the nearby gravestones.
“Did I leave the telly on?” Setting the sack safely behind a large tombstone – he’d lost more than one carton of cigs when a body fell on them – he approached the crypt entrance carefully.
Morphing into game face, Spike sniffed the air. Here now… what’s this? He peered inside cautiously, looking for his grandsire. Ang – Fireworks exploded behind his eyes as something struck him in the back of the head. Hard. And a couple more times just to be sure he was both down and out.
“Just because the door’s open doesn’t mean the big bad’s inside.”
Something was on his nose. It itched and tickled. Spike raised a hand to brush it away. His eyes snapped open when he realized his arm wouldn’t move. “What the hell – “
“About time you woke up, Billy. I thought I might have to start without you.”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Spike looked up into his grandsire’s face. “Angel, so good to see you again. I suppose this is payback for the ring and all that?”
Angelus opened the bag of tools he’d brought along and laid them out beside Spike.
“Listen, you understand how it is.” Spike tugged on the chains holding his arms down. Nothing. “The ring would have made me invincible – and since I was evil – big plus.”
Angelus didn’t answer, shrugging out of his coat and laying it aside where it wouldn’t get stained. It was such a bitch getting bodily fluids out of good leather. Someday he was going to turn a drycleaner just to get a discount.
Looking around, Spike realized they were in one of the older crypts. Rather, they were beneath the crypt. Ancient skeletons had been piled onto stone shelves to free up space aboveground for more recent burials. Considering the number of skeletons, this family had been in Sunnydale for some time.
“Here now, Angel – “ He watched as the other vampire examined a rusty looking knife. “I have a soul now, you know. Feel terribly guilty and all that.”
“A soul?” Angelus leaned down and sniffed. “Darla was right. Your soul stinks.”
Spike closed his eyes. Oh. Hell. “Angelus, good to have you back. I guess Angel and Buffy had the happy moment then? Congratulations are in order, I assume?”
“Had a couple, actually.” A smile curved Angelus’ lips. “And I got a few of my own. Made her purr.”
“Well now that you’re back – “ He tugged again at the chains. Still not moving. “Let me up – we’ll go hunting together. Be like old times, it will.”
“Let me think…” Tapping a finger against his lips, he gave that idea the less than two seconds it deserved. “No.”
“Well, you can hunt and I’ll – “ Spike swallowed as Angelus leaned over him. “I’ll watch and applaud. I’ll even give you style points if you like.”
“Save your applause – “ Sliding his hands inside the edges of Spike’s shirt, Angelus ripped it open. “I’d rather have your screams.”
“You’re still hacked off over the thing with Acathla – “ He jumped as Angelus laid the cold knife on his bare stomach. “But remember how you always said the Master’s plan to let hell loose on Earth was a bad idea? Well, I was just following your example.”
“Time for some discipline, Willy.” Picking up the knife, Angelus slid it down inside the waistband of Spike’s pants and began to saw through the material.
“Buffy's going to be angry.” Yelping as the knife cut into his thigh, Spike searched desperately for anything to stop the punishment Angelus was about to deal out. “She’s got feelings for me – “ Realizing that wasn’t the best tactic to use, he switched gears. “Help me get rid of this damned soul and it’ll be like old times, you and me.”
“Are you forgetting, Spike?” He jerked Spike’s pants down out of his way. “We hated each other. I tolerated you because you took care of Dru, and you tolerated me because I could kill you.”
“That’s not true – well, maybe it is – “ Spike’s eyes widened as Angelus climbed up on the stone slab and sat astraddle his thighs. “Here now – have you gone all queer on me?”
“You tried to rape Buffy.”
The calm statement was like an injection of ice water. He wasn’t going to be punished. He was going to die. The only question was how long it would take. “She wanted it!”
Angelus eyes narrowed, and a growl rumbled up from his belly.
“Buffy loves me! She just needed to see that!” Spike threw the words out desperately. If Angelus were angry enough, maybe his temper would get the better of him and he would kill him quickly. “Buffy loved it when I fucked her – you know she wanted it!”
Angelus' eyes flickered into gold and his face began to change. Growling, he lowered his face close to Spike’s. The growl increased and then changed to a laugh. “Yeah, nothing says love like rape.”
Spike’s hopes dropped as his grandsire sat back and laughed. “Buffy will kill you for this.”
“I’m going to have to gag you, Billy.” Angelus picked up the roll of duct tape and wrapped a strip around Spike’s head. It didn’t quite cover his mouth so he wound another strip around for good measure. “It’s a bitch, but I’m trying to keep a low profile.”
“Let’s start – “ He picked up the knife again. “With the ah… root of the problem.”
Trailing the knife point through the dark brown pubic hair, Angelus smirked. “Guess this proves you’re not a natural blonde.”
A cool hand lifted his balls, and Spike tensed. The knife blade scraped across the sensitive skin, and he couldn’t help flinching.
“Don’t worry, William.” The chocolate eyes glimmered evilly. “You won’t need these where you’re going.”
The knife was dull and it took some time to saw through Spike’s scrotum. Angelus’ hands were covered in blood, making him slip occasionally, the knife gouging into the other man’s inner thigh.
“Here we go.” Laying the bloody testicles on Spike’s heaving belly, Angelus wiped his hands off on the tattered remains of the other vampire’s shirt. He hated it that Spike’s screams were muffled behind the duct tape, but even underground, there was a chance that someone could hear the screams and come to investigate. Or help. This is Sunnydale after all. “Hope I didn’t lose style points for running past the time limit.”
“What can we cut off next?” Tapping the knife blade against his cheek, he studied the helpless victim. “What else touched Buffy?”
“Ah… I know.” He lifted the limp cock. “This little thing.” Angelus frowned. “This little thing couldn’t possibly have made her happy.”
Spike closed his eyes and tried to wish himself dead. He’d suffered pain at Angelus’ hands before, but nothing like this. Beatings, whippings, the occasional burn or cut – he’d endured those and thought he’d be able to handle anything. He was wrong.
The knife began to saw at his dick and he screamed, not caring if anyone heard or not.
“Wow, this thing – is tougher – than it looks – “ Angelus grunted as he sliced through the layers of flesh. “Of course, I could have brought – a sharper knife. Not to worry though – “ The knife cut through the last of Spike’s cock. “We’re getting the job done.”
Laying the bloody thing on Spike’s stomach next to the shriveled testicles, Angelus slid down off the slab and cleaned his hands off again.
“Guess we can’t call you Spike anymore.” He wiped the knife clean. “What’s next on the list?”
Behind the tape, Spike sobbed, tears running down his cheeks.
“I guess touching starts with the hands, doesn’t it?” Angelus whispered into his ear as he rested the dull blade on Spike’s right wrist.
The darkness was soft and merciful. Fire splattered into the darkness suddenly. Spike moaned and thrashed as the fire dribbled onto his face.
“Wakey wakey.” Angelus found an unburned spot on Spike’s cheek and let holy water drip there. “Almost done, you don’t want to miss the big finish.”
The chains held him down as his body tried to arch in fresh agony. Every time he passed out, the holy water brought him around with its mixture of fire and water.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision. Angelus had made sure that the holy water got into his eyes, and he could no longer see clearly. Not that it mattered. The only things to see were the steadily growing pile of parts on his stomach and Angelus’ smirking face.
“We may be done, Billy boy.” Angelus took a quick inventory. “Balls, cock, hands, feet – doubt seriously you touched her with your feet – but it lends a certain symmetry, wouldn’t you say? Balance is important to a true professional.”
“I was thinking about skinning you, but there’s just no time to do the job properly. So I think there’s just one more thing – “ He picked up a pair of garden shears. “One last thing that touched Buffy.”
Shoving the blades down under the tape, Angelus cut through it. He yanked it off Spike’s mouth, smiling at the croaking sounds. “Scream yourself out, did you? Too bad.”
“P – Please – “ Even knowing that begging wouldn’t help, Spike couldn’t stop himself. “No – no more – “
“Too late for begging. No getting on my good side now.” Laughing, Angelus lifted the shears. “Okay, well like that would ever happen.”
“Please – “ There was something in front of his face. What was it? Too late he realized what was happening. “No – n –“
Shoving the blades into Spike’s mouth, Angelus scissored them ruthlessly. The gurgling screams were music to his ears. “Is this how Buffy felt? Fighting to keep you from violating her? Struggling to keep you from – ripping – “ He lifted out the severed tongue. “Ripping her innocence from her – “
Choking on his own blood, Spike wept unashamedly. Croaking whimpers were all he could make now, and he keened in despair as his tongue was added to the pile on his stomach. He couldn’t bleed to death. Angelus could cut him into nothing but pieces and he wouldn’t die from it.
“You tried to violate my mate. My mate!” Angelus snarled. “I’m not saying she didn’t fuck you willingly – but it damned sure didn’t make it right for you to force yourself on her!”
Putting the shears, knife, duct tape, and bottle of holy water back into the bag, Angelus picked up the rusty saw he’d used to saw through Spikes bones. “Well, it’s been fun, Willy my boy, but I need to go get that special gift for the missus.”
Slowly, carefully, he began to saw through Spike’s throat. It was regrettable that Spike’s screams were cut short.
Back in LA, Angelus parked the van down the street from the Hyperion long enough to check on Buffy.
His heart, beating or not, ached as he saw how hollow eyed and empty she looked. Her movements were automatic – almost robotic – as she helped load Angel’s things into the Plymouth.
"This is the last of it." Wes walked into camera range.
"Set it in the backseat." Buffy held the car door open for him.
Wes set the box in the back floorboard; the seat was already stacked with boxes full of Angel's belongings. "Are you sure you want to keep all these things?"
"No." Buffy ran her fingertips over the velvet shirt that peeked out from under the edge of the box flaps. "I just can't - I just can't bear to give them away."
"I understand." He patted her shoulder. "It's hard to believe he won't be back for them."
"He's been through so much." She wiped away the tears that threatened once again. "He came back from hell, even."
"Perhaps it's best - "Wes shook his head. "Sorry. Proper British upbringing makes me say useless things like that. Heaven forbid we should show our emotions and rail at the unfairness of life."
Buffy could barely breathe for the pain in her heart. The past several days had been the hardest of her life. Even her mother's death hadn't left a hole this big. But then, she'd had Angel to lean on for support. Now he was gone. Numbly she turned and went back inside.
Angelus flipped through the different camera views, following Buffy from the garage to the hotel lobby.
"And I'm telling you that I cannot be held accountable for fireballs falling from the sky! Well then, I suggest you sue me. I am not paying for it!" Giles slammed the phone down. "Bloody idiots!"
"Still fighting it out?" The question was automatic, she didn't really care but she didn't want everyone asking her how she felt. Again.
"It seems that apocalyptic conditions aren't covered by the insurance." He told her. "They're saying it was an act of God, and therefore my responsibility."
"It's not like we can tell them 'hey, we saved the world so don't charge me for the car', though." Willow quipped as she came around the end of the counter.
"True." Giles smiled ruefully. "No discounts for the heroes."
"How are things in Sunnydale?" Buffy asked.
"All clear." Willow told her. "Since the Beast went poof, everything's been quiet. Oh, and they found Spike."
"Where was he?" The First had kidnapped Spike from her basement before she had left for LA with Angel. There was a fresh twinge of pain at the memory of Angel sitting on her bed, fresh from the shower.
"He'd been chained up in one of the caves by Deadman's Point. Clem found him and brought him home." The redhead wrinkled her nose. "He'd been tortured, and Xander was way too much Mr. Details."
"Typical Xander."
"Typical Xander." Willow agreed with a smile.
In the van, Angelus laughed. "He was tortured all right. And Xander is too much Mr. Dead now."
"How's Dawn?" As bad as it had been for her to accept Angel's death, it had been a thousand times harder to tell her sister. Dawn had always had a crush on Angel, had practically worshipped him. She had cried and sobbed hysterically until finally Xander had taken the phone away from her and carried her upstairs to her room. Buffy could only hang on to the phone and say she was sorry. Endlessly, numbly, until Willow had pried the receiver from her fingers.
"She's still – you know?" Xander had told her Dawn was still laying in bed, barely eating anything and refusing to talk, but Willow didn't want to add to Buffy's own grief.
"Yeah." Buffy rubbed at her chest as if that could help the ache deep inside of her. "I know."
“It’ll be better soon, baby.” Angelus stroked her face on the screen. “Daddy will make everything all better.”
Reluctantly, he shut the monitor off and climbed into the driver’s seat. He had something shiny and pretty to pick up for his baby. And something soft and silky. And something to help him get the shiny and pretty and softy and silky things on her without her staking him.
Turning on the radio, he flipped through the stations. “Romantic, come on where’s something romantic?”
An old song was in mid chorus. “My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble!”
“Oh sure, now you play it!” Angelus slapped the steering wheel. “Where were you when I was going to kill Spike?”
Another slide through FM. “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore!”
“There we go!” Turning up the volume, he sang along. “When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine, that’s amore! Sing it, Deano!”