Lindsey´s Angels 2
December 2, 2004
7.13 pm
"And then the stars shifted so that they wouldn´t speak to me anymore. Whispers, whispers...all gone! The saucer of milk was covered by sorrow and wept until little pearls of scarlet flowed like the river."
"Would Miss Edith like another scone? A bit more jam or cream?"
"Meow!"
Exchanging a glance, Riley and Graham knew that words just couldn´t describe what was happening. Here they were, sitting at the kitchen table eating scones and jam with an insane vampire. One that was on all fours, licking cream out of a saucer on the floor. Oddly enough it wasn´t the strangest thing they had ever seen. Riley settled back into his seat as he watched Joyce try and get Drusilla up off the floor and to sit at the table again.
"Um, how about you sit at the table? I´m sure Angel won´t be too long."
"Daddy? He doesn´t like cats. My Spike did, he always let me play. Daddy didn´t. Cats are pretty, am I pretty? I was Spikes Princess."
With that, she got up and crossed over to stand in front of one of the two men who were obediently eating the numerous scones. Graham couldn´t stop himself from shrinking away from the pale creature in front of him. He had faced so many scarier looking beasts. Ones with multiple arms, fangs where he was sure it was anatomically incorrect. Even ones that paralysed its prey before slowly dissolving the captured food with urine, then eating it. Sure, everyone in his unit, including Riley, had thrown up at That, but they had still gone out and faced it down. But this, this woman was seriously freaking him out. At the vampire´s question, he had arched an eyebrow at Joyce before realising that Drusilla wanted an answer. From him.
"Ahhh...um. Yes?"
"I´m not to be yours. Another has already been chosen for you."
Barely able to suppress a shudder when his arm was lightly touched by cool fingers, the ex-soldier just had to ask the most appropriate question.
"What? Who?"
At the spluttered question, the dark haired vampire grew excited, clapping her hands and exclaiming that the man who put the ´ouchy´ into Spike was really clever. Not surprisingly, everyone doubled their efforts into wishing Angel home as soon as possible. Graham´s blonde friend snickered at the look of complete confusion that was firmly plastered on the burly ex-soldiers face. The snicker was quickly suppressed as he was growled at, two fingers jabbed towards him at eye level. In an instant, one of the stakes that had been lying next to the jar of jam was being held firmly in Riley´s grip. The ex-soldier waved the sharpened wood suggestively at a vampire giving him a coy look.
"Miss Edith! She says you don´t deserve any of the apples that pine for the sun...ohhhhh..Spike!"
Sinking to the ground, head held, Drusilla started to moan and wail. Riley and Graham were sitting at the table, unsure of what to do. Taking pity on the obviously distressed female, Joyce ventured from her chair only to stop in her tracks as all the noise suddenly stopped. The vampire was quiet, her face covered by her hands. Slowly, as the human woman took a tentative step forward, Drusilla removed her hands from her face. For the first time that night, all three humans could see that she was looking somewhat sane.
"He´s hurting my Spike. I can hear him screaming for someone to help him. He prefers the white rooms. Little pieces of him are saying goodbye. Pain. His head hurts but he likes it. Shhhh, don´t worry Spikey. Daddy and the one who doesn´t like cake will find you."
"Drusilla, where is Spike? Is he still ah,..alive?"
"Cutting, cutting. Slicing and sharp things. So slowly the pieces are bright and shiny again. Silver gleaming under the sun. Hurting and crying like a kitten. Spikey doesn´t cry, he never cries. Daddy cries because he is so sad but Spike is in pain and alone until the man comes again."
Horrified at what was being said, Riley and Graham shuddered as one at the thought of what would get the obnoxious blonde vampire to cry. Drusilla was right, Spike was as tough as it got. The only one tougher was Angel. It was looking like even vampires had their breaking points, something both soldiers had thought impossible when working in the Initiative.
"Daddy!"
"Dru?"
Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Angel had been able to sense his second Childe in the building as soon as he had pulled into the car park. He had been worried about just how much chaos his nutty girl had caused once she had seen he wasn´t at home. The older vampire had run inside as fast as possible, heading straight to the kitchen from where her scent was the strongest. What he had found was beyond description.
Joyce was kneeling on the floor next to Drusilla, arm around the pale shoulders. His Childe just leaning into the other woman, humming a tune that only she knew. Riley and Graham were sitting opposite each other at the table, a plate of half finished scones in front of each one. Both with expressions of utter confusion. Just a normal Drusilla tea party.
"Drusilla, you bite anyone under my protection and you´re ash. Not dust, ash because I´m going to fucking well set you on fire if you so much as give a hint of biting."
"But Angel...Daddy."
"Angel, she knows Spike is in pain and I´m pretty sure she gabbled something regarding the others earlier on this evening."
Just able to keep his feet as the light headedness struck, Angel stared at Joyce. Of course, if anyone would know where Spike and the others were, it would be his Childe. Just where the hell had she been four months ago when the shit had first hit the fan?
"Has she been talking about the stars and what they tell her at all?"
Hope rose for the first time for Angel in what had been weeks. If it was possible to decipher just what his Drusilla had been waffling about, then they might be able to get a lead on one of the missing friends. Unfortunately, Spike was the only one who could really understand what she was on about. He could usually tell the difference between random ramblings and future predictions, something that was really needed at the moment. With one eye on Drusilla, he told everyone to be quiet and to stay where they were.
"Dru, where is Spike?"
"Oh Daddy! Don´t worry, the song of London Bridge will surround you again."
Jaw clenched, Angel knew he was just about to snap. He had never understood a quarter of what Drusilla ever prattled about and from the identical looks of bewilderment on the three humans sitting at the kitchen table, he knew that he wasn´t alone. Ignoring the vampire for a moment, he asked Joyce to write down all she could remember of what Drusilla had said so far. Joyce nodded, silently berating herself for not thinking of it sooner. Spike had told the human that most of the trouble he had gotten into was from not taking his lovers words seriously. Apparently after being almost staked and burnt a few times, he had learned to take more notice of whatever Drusilla was saying.
"Sooo. What have the stars been saying? Is the moon still smiling?"
Twirling around the kitchen a few times, the pale woman paused to hiss at Riley, blow a kiss to Graham and then call Joyce ´mummy´ again. Temple rubbed with a large hand, Angel could almost count the seconds until he would be forced to vamp out at his odd Childe in order to get her to concentrate as much as she was able to.
"Why are you calling Joyce Mummy?"
"Because you´re my Daddy and she lives with you."
"The stars went away, drops of pearls filled with cinnamon fell from the sky. They wouldn´t talk to me for so long, I cried but then the pretty ones came. All shiny like the sun but filled with the moon."
"Ah!"
Silence descended upon the kitchen. Little sounds of annoyance were heard as Joyce continually huffed and puffed as she tried to remember the exact words that Drusilla had spoken. The pale woman came to sudden halt, her spinning stopping and looked directly over Riley´s shoulder, a shy smile on her face.
"Angel, my friends are here."
"What, Where....Who?"
Four heads arched around the brightly lit room in all directions, each coming to the same conclusion. No one else was there bar them. With a shrug, both Riley and Graham shot confused looks at the older vampire. The ex-soldiers tensed as the insane vampiress came and sat beside Graham at the kitchen table, Angel giving his Childe a warning growl as she ran a finger down the smaller soldiers neck. Managing not to flinch too much, Graham stayed where he was, taking the same precautions one would when around a large wild feline. Don´t make eye contact and no sudden movements. He had heard some horrific stories about the woman´s hobby in poking out her victims eyes with her fingernails and he really didn´t want to give her any reason to even associate the hobby with him. Unfortunately, she had already poked at Riley twice that night and from the look on Riley´s face, he had heard the same stories.
"Mummy, the sound will flow through you. London Bridge will be heard again. Legacy of the Tower will ring true and be forged by two. The green from the Isle of Erin was lost and will never again appear nor the red of the blue. The Sight was saved but is lost in the fields of memory. The twins of darkness are to reside in the halls of the ones who seek."
Eyes closed and hands fluttering, the dark haired woman started to pant as she concentrated relaying what was being whispered in her ear by one of her friends. She could sense the growing annoyance of her Sire and desperately wished her Spike was there to reassure her and hold her until she had said all that was required.
"The star that is yet to be born is a mummy, the twins of darkness with her. Water surrounds them, ice flowing into the winter sea. The lonely tree is soon to be happy, love surrounding her after the endless winter, her leaves of red flowing like a river. Meow. Daddy? The man who isn´t will wander the pretty river again, joy radiating from him for all eternity."
A thin trickle of blood made its way down the pretty chin from the delicate nose. With a growl, she warned her Sire from interrupting her.
"The one with no voice will speak of mighty things to come, his voice shall echo through these hallways soon. The Millers son shall be companion to the advocate until they both wither with love, her champion. A golden man once entangled with fates Chosen will offer sanctuary to all who are in need, refuge from all dimensions apart from this earth´s planes. His heart needed to be broken so that compassion would temper the desire to only see two colours, a path already started but yet to be finished."
Angel couldn´t help but fang out at the sight of his second Childe bleeding. This was a huge effort for the woman and he was astounded by the words. Drusilla was telling the fates for everyone that had been at the Magic Box, it was so important that he did believe that Drusilla was being helped by her ´friends´. There was no way she could predict so many things in such a short time, she was talented with future predictions but this was beyond her talents; she had to be having outside help in keeping focused. He just hoped that it wouldn´t stress her out too much, it would be hell trying to keep her in control for the time she would need to recover from the visions.
"The prince will be comforted and protected for all time by one who has fallen from the mighty but shall receive his redemption through these actions, the Twilight ruling all and keeping the prince from any other harm. The soul of blood will return, bringing chaos and ruin to all it touches. This cannot be allowed to happen. The sight and voice will find the path to deny the wolf. The echoes of ones mind is where the prince can be found, just follow the whispering corridors. The displaced ones will be taken by the brothers of Christ, into the arms of protection. Fear not, harm will not come to them again if they go by choice."
Joyce was writing furiously, now knowing just why both Angel and Spike had been fascinated by this woman. She just hoped that she was getting everything down correctly, just one misplaced word had the potential to stuff everything up. A glance at both Riley and Graham and she was relieved to see that they also were writing the vampire´s words down, both having gotten extra pens from on top of the fridge as soon as the words had started to make a little sense.
The vampiress´ quiet panting was all that could be heard. Making a move, Angel stepped towards his exhausted Childe. Sure that she had finished all she had to say. Two steps forward, he was thrown backwards as a flare of heat flowed from her body. Riley and Graham scrambled as fast as they could from the intense heat, Joyce following them into the corner by the fridge, all three trying to shelter behind a stunned Angel. In awe, they watched her stand, her whole being glowing with a silvery golden light.
"This is your war Angel."
"W...what?"
"The final battle for your redemption. Do not fail, you will not get a second chance and hell will be taking you back. Soul and all. Your legacy shall be bred from the missing. Fail in your mission and there shall be none to replace you should you fall. Many will be denied their full achievements should that occur. The fate of millions rest on the outcome to this war. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Do not mourn the passing of this one. She has achieved her redemption for acting as our vessel. Do not feel guilty for creating her in your image, she was pre-destined since before time for the sole purpose of letting us speak to you once again. The one you hate so much was also pre-destined to be born as soulless. Be warned, if he should regain his soul, Angelus will be insignificant to what will occur if he should be loosened upon the world."
Angel stared up at the gentle expression on Drusilla´s face, the kitchen bathed in gentle glowing gold. If he didn´t know better, he would think she was one of the saints he had read about while a human. She was beautiful and serene, the very presence of calm surrounding her. The intense heat rolling off her was the only give away that it wasn´t God speaking through her.
"Who are you?"
"We are the Oracles. Good luck Angelus, we wish you well. The fate of the world rests upon your shoulders. Try not to let it crush you."
The heat radiating off the dark haired woman grew in intensity until the others could see the richly embroidered clothing starting to smoulder, as one, they started towards the heated vampire with the intention of cooling her down. A deafening bang and a painful wave heat rolled through the kitchen, all screaming at the intensity and shielding their eyes from the glare coming off the insane vampire. Seconds later, the kitchen was cooling down as the painful light subsided.
All were speechless as they stared at the pile of ashes spread over the kitchen floor, roughly where Drusilla had been standing.
**WARNING UNPLEASANT IDEAS AHEAD***
Sniff...
SNIFF...
Breathe out.
Sniff....
Breathe out.
Bide his time until he has company again.
No need to breathe, he´s technically dead.
Bored but he´s thankful for that small emotion, so much more different from the usual silver smoothness of the scalpel.
Thin fine needles of pain prick at every nerve in his body as he shifts on the cool table. The restraints holding him spread eagled on his back are so familiar to him now, he would miss them if they were gone.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
His left hand itches, the stumps where his fingers used to be reminding him how lucky he was that only his slim digits were cut off that time. He´s heard about this, the sensation of missing limbs still making themselves known. Phantom limbs. Occasionally he can feel his fingers ghosting over the edge of the metal table.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
He knows rationally that his fingers are gone and although with his vampire healing, that they will eventually grow back, he hopes that they are gone for good. If they don´t grow back, then they won´t get cut off again but if they don´t, The Man will cut something else off. Damned if they do, damned if they don´t.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
The fact that they are growing back so slowly isn´t really the issue. How long has passed since he woke up here? In the white room, surrounded by bright gleaming trolleys holding sharp things he can´t see until The Man holds them up.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
Never in his whole unlife has he ever thought of the Initiative as merciful until now. He thanks them with his whole being that they put the chip into his head, its not so cursed after all. Angling his head just so, he can see the steady drip of red flowing into the slim tube inserted in the crook of his right elbow.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
Human blood. A healing accelerator. The more blood, the faster he heals. All the better for The Man for when he wants another slice of vampire. A toe, half a thigh, a testicle. Kidney, liver, few inches of intestines, right foot. Doesn´t need them to have an unlife.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
Where does it all go? Funny thing, vampirism. Bits that go missing of a vamp don´t dust until the vampire gets dusted. He hadn´t known that until The Man explained it to him. He´s cut plenty of things off humans and other demons but never off a fellow vampire.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
His stomach hurts. He managed to raise his head enough to see why once but he got scared at the sight and he hasn´t looked since. The small beams of light gleaming off the surgical clamps imbedded over his body are annoying. Another small thing he is thankful for, something to show himself that he isn´t so lost after all.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
Is his Sire coming for him? He wishes Buffy would walk through the door and help him, actually, anybody.
Sniff...
Breathe out.
A footstep..another...and another.
Someone coming towards the door, just outside his room.
Sniff..sniff..
Shaky breathe out.
Please go away...don´t come in, he begs silently. The continual tears flowing faster, staining everything they touch, bright red. Saving his words for when they are really needed, soon now. No matter how much he cries and begs for the pain to go away, he knows that it won´t stop until The Man has gotten all that he wants.
Sniff..sniff..sniff...
B.bre..athe o.out.
A small whine echoes around the completely sound proofed room, the bright overhead lights throwing their golden gleam off the smooth walls. The only darkness he has been allowed is the one he makes himself.
Beep, bop..buzzz..ping!
The door to his room opens, the scent of rosemary and thyme flooding into the small space, overwhelming the vampire. How can so much pain be announced by such simple scents?
Pant, "I´m going to fucking kill you, you prick!" Pant
Eyes closed, the vampire waits for the chips input to his words, grimacing as he rides out pain that he can now almost ignore. Four wet sploshes announce to the vampire that something bigger than his foot is going to come off this time, maybe even a metre of intestine and a slice of liver? Might even be his whole penis this time? The more blood packets, the bigger the missing bit.
Whine..pant "Cunt, I´m gonna stick a spike up your arse and then I´m gonna turn it round while its still up you, your gonna be squealing like the fucker you are." groan...pant
The light touches on his abdomen tell him that indeed, he is going to be missing an organ sometime soon. A few jerks to the IV drip stuck in the crook of his elbow and he knows that his blood supply has been changed and sped up. His tears flowing non-stop. He was going to have to get on with it.
Pant...sob "I´m gonna peel the outer layers of your skin off, dip you in fucking battery acid and piss myself laughing while you slowly dissolve. I´m gonna give you a fucking Deepheat enema..."
The pain in his head was increasing, any minute now...just a few more words and he would be out like a light...just a few more, let the chip do its magic.
Sob..sob "Ahhh...ugg..Cheese grater to your testicles....Ohhh! Please don´t...CUNT!! I´M GOING TO STICK BARBED WIRE...AHHHH...DOWNNNNahhhhhh..."
Spike lets the pain in his head take him on a field trip, the smell of burning flesh ignored. The tears ceasing for a few minutes.
Darkness, so welcome.
Silence,
The freedom of no pain.
December 5, 2004
Hyperion
3.25pm
With light touches, he gently ran his fingers down his stubbled cheeks. The shadowed hollows of his face looked strange in the mirror. A turn of his face and he saw the beginnings of a patchy beard, the soft coloured hair reflecting the bright light of the naked bulb in the bathroom.
Tongue poked out, Wesley snickered as he poked at the almost seamless scar running the width of his shortened organ. To reattach the tongue, the surgeons had been forced to trim off a few millimetres of ´distressed tissue´ before even starting the surgery.
Distressed tissue.
He loved that saying. Just misprouncing it, caused anyone in hearing distance to shudder. No matter how hard Angel tried to reasure Wesley that he was still desirable, Wesley knew better. He was no longer unscarred in the vampires eyes, he was now less than perfect. Someone other than his lover had caused him physical pain.
Mouth closed, Wesley´s hands continued their journey downwards, tracing the prominant ribs. Cut and nicked fingers contoured over the many bruises. He was ugly, he used to be pretty. He didn´t want Angel to look at him, didn´t want to see the horror in the dark eyes each time the vampire looked at him.
"Dithtrethed tithue."
"Angthul..Wethley"
A short barked laugh rang through the white tiled room. He was useless. He could no longer speak English properly, what use was he now? How could he help his lover in saving the helpless? Wesley used to be able to speak seven human languages and four demon ones, not counting the ones he knew enough to get by with. To count those would make it almost thirty languages, dead and living.
Shivering, the painfully thin man slowly made his way over to the pile of bedclothes laying in the middle of his room. Once he had negotiated the numerous clumps of torn mattress and bedsprings, he let himself collapse from the sheer effort of moving. He ignored the protesting ribs that took all of his bony weight just like he took no notice of the continual growling of his stomach. Ignore it and it would go away, it always did.
"Leth the Sthringths Ethernal be thut out...ahhhh."
Let the Springs Eternal be shut out. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn´t prounance the words properly. Always that stupid scar tissue not allowing his tongue to form the words correctly. What he wouldn´t give for a stutter. A flash of jealously flowed over him as he thought back to the vile stutter Xander had, at least he would be able to pronounce words. His better than average magic skills were now null and void, the craft demanded ten perfect fingers, intricately pronounced words and anal retentive timing. He wasn´t even able to train someone in the craft now, he was useless.
Tight smile across his features, he replayed the defining moment of his relationship with Angel in his mind. The moment when Angel had finally kissed him with passion after he had been released from hospital. The moment when Wesley had timidly opened his mouth, allowing the older vampire to slip his cooler tongue into the humans warm mouth.
Angel had stroked the newly made scar with his tongue, only to pull away almost instantly. Revulsion mixed with horror and pity had fleeted across the brunettes face, an apology following a second later, the vampire´s hand absently wiping at his mouth as if trying to rub the taste of his lover from his lips. Wesley had felt his heart clench, the crumbled walls to his once off limits feelings slammed back up with double reinforcment. The brunette didn´t even know what he was apologising for, so used to saying sorry for everything. He knew when he was just somethig to pity and he didn´t want it. Not from Angel and certainly not from anyone else.
"Hateth you Angthel."
Bedcovers pulled around his violently trembling body, Wesley giggled into the soiled linen as he thought of the vampire sitting at his desk, brooding as usual. He had already had his daily visit from the brunette, complimentary drink offered as usual. Why didn´t the arsehole just leave him alone? Why did he continue to rub Wesley´s nose into the knowledge that he was no longer desirable?
"Uthleth."
It wasn´t love that drove the vampire to keep visiting the displaced Watcher, Wesley knew that. It was the ever present guilt. Even the whole staged show of tears after Wesley had bitten the other man had been caused by guilt. Why wasn´t Angel being strong like he always was? What gave Angel the right to cry?
How dare Angel think he had normal human feelings, how dare the brunette show emotion. Angel was a vampire and he was supposed to be strong. What gave him the right to fall to his knees infront of Wesley and beg his forgiveness? Useless bastard was supposed to be out there in the night wreaking revenge for all the tragedy that happened at the Magic Box but where was he, floating around the Hyperion. Cloaked in a cloud of guilt and sobbing like the human he wasn´t. If Angel really loved him like he kept saying, he would be the strong one.
"Hateth you. Weakth Basthard."
A giggle and Wesley realised that Angel and he had something in common. They were both now officially useless.
"Uthleth."
"Uthleth."
"Uthleth."
