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menomegirlBurning Imprints
An Angel/Lindsey story.
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
menomegirl & strangecreature
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Etc, Etc....own them all. We’re just smutting them up for fun.
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: M/M, slash, language, character death
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey/Spike
Chapter Summary: The gang head up to Angel's penthouse while Angel, Lindsey and Spike prepare for an unexpected visitor.
Previous chapters can be found here:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bi_archive.
Death Song
"Look, Lorne, you don't understand," Gunn exclaimed, the tone in his voice one of irritation mixed with a healthy dose of fear. "If Angel's really gone bad, then we can't just do nothing, Wolfram and Hart or no Wolfram and Hart. I made him a promise a long time ago and I'll stake him if I have to."
"Oh, would you now?" Lorne replied, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated Gunn. So pronounced were the emotions radiating off him that the empath demon could have read him from a mile off. In the close confines of the elevator, with all the other's auras screaming at him, Lorne was beginning to feel nauseated. "Then why didn't you do it earlier, when you had the chance and surprise on your side?"
"Because I thought you guys needed to know what was going on and Lindsey seemed safe enough," Gunn said, his chin tilting upward almost as if he'd taken a physical blow from Lorne's question.
A short, sharp laugh sounded from behind Wesley and everyone turned to look at Fred. Arms crossed and leaning against the back wall of the private lift, she'd quietly been listening to the others while thinking her own thoughts. "Safe enough? God, Charles, you left Lindsey upstairs with that...that thing that threatened to rape me to death last year. Why would you do that?"
"An excellent question," Wesley said, one eyebrow lifting as he turned back to look at Gunn, his mind rapidly going over the events of the day and what possible motives Gunn would have had for his lack of action. "It would be awfully convenient for you if Lindsey was out of the picture, wouldn't it?"
"It wasn't like that!" Gunn replied. "You didn't hear them, you don't know..."
"Uhhhh!" Eve groaned, pushing past Lorne in the small space. "That doesn't matter now, people. We need to get Lindsey away from him before something even worse happens."
"Afraid that's going to be easier said than done, Eve," Lorne stated, sighing as the sounds of the elevator heralded the end of the short journey to the penthouse suite. "Walking in there with crossbows half-cocked intending to separate a master vampire from his family is probably the last thing we should be doing, like I tried to tell you all downstairs. And Lindsey isn't just family to Angel...Angelus...whoever. Don't you remember what he was like when Darla was around?"
The sound of silence greeted his question as the upward mobility ground to a halt and the doors of the private elevator quietly slid open.
*
Lindsey shivered between the two of them as the unearthly sound of Angel's voice faded and he drew in a deep breath as a warm cocoon of satiation flooded his body despite the trembling of it. Sleepy eyelids cracked open to peer down at Spike as Angel licked the punctures at the side of his neck in a lazy fashion. Lindsey leaned his head back into the touch of his lover as Angel's hands gently moved along his hips.
He breathed out a low, pained hiss at the subtle shift of bodies as he slid out of Spike and Angel withdrew from him, followed by a softer sound at Spike's hand drawing down the sweat-damp sheen on his arm, the light touch ghosting right over the tattoo.
Spike's eyebrows lifted slightly as Angel circled his arm around Lindsey, pulling him back even more and the younger vampire's voice was still a bit raw and edgy as he said, "Hey, it didn't burn this time."
"Didn't expect it to," Lindsey replied, lips tilting in a crooked half-smile as he reached a hand down, fingertips lightly tracing the crude facsimile of the cross now embedded into Spike's skin. "This does, though, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Spike said, lifting his hand to cover Lindsey's, pressing it to the insistent itch under the soft touch, eyes flickering over to capture Angel's as the ink worked its will on his body and his skin crawled with sensation. He wasn't sure if he was pissed at the cruelty of what Angelus had done or thankful that he'd have a reminder of this encounter for the rest of his existence.
Angel pressed a kiss against the warmth of the healing skin under his mouth, shifted behind his mortal lover and reached out with his free hand to brush theirs aside, the tips of his fingers growing warm as they traced the lines of the freshly applied design. A fleeting image of Penn flashed within his mind and Angel knew that Angelus had cut that symbol into Spike for many reasons.
But for Angel, it served as a twisted sort of judgment. Not only for the way his Puritan fledgling had died, but also for the way Darla had. For James, for Elizabeth, for Lawson, even for the Master. It was a brand to remind Angel that he had committed wrongs against his own family, acts that his inner demon never would have. And Angel felt that it was also a warning, one that he planned to heed, if he could, because he'd never had so much to lose before.
His palm spread flat over the pattern painted on Spike's chest in ink and magic and Lindsey held his breath as tendrils of misty smoke rose from the contact between the vampires. Angel lifted his gaze to find Spike's eyes still held on him and he was overwhelmed with a compulsion that he didn't quite understand, one he felt helpless to fight so he didn't even try.
"I'm sorry, Spike," Angel said and even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for, it was something he felt the need to say.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Nothin' to be sorry for, you big poof," he replied with all the disdain he could muster as he struggled to hide how much what Angel had just done and said meant to him.
Elbows digging into the mattress underneath them as he scooted back and Angel's hand fell away from him as he sat up. Fingers closing on the rucked up sheets and he absently wiped away traces of what had just passed as he grinned at Lindsey. "He's so bloody melodramatic."
"Mmm, that's my Angel," Lindsey replied, head falling back with a smile tilting his lips as Angel leaned down to press another kiss to the healing wound on his throat. "The one and only. It's been...forever."
Pausing as he slid to the edge of the bed as Lindsey's words struck a resonating cord within him and one of Spike's eyebrows lifted as he contemplated the tableau of the couple before him."It hasn't even been five minutes yet, Gingersnap."
"Shhh," Lindsey whispered, a crease of annoyance marring his forehead, his eyes blue fire as they slit half-open to peer at Spike. "Grrrruff! Bad dog."
Angel laughed softly at the teasingly uttered words as he nuzzled his way up the side of Lindsey's throat but Spike froze at the sound of them, the intangible thing that had been a shadowy presence in the back of his mind all day solidifying and eclipsing everything else.
For a few short seconds, Spike felt as if his heart had picked up a beat that was erratic before the twin emotions of fear and hope swept the forgotten sensation away, his voice soft in a question formed of one word. "Lindsey?"
"Uh huh?" Lindsey answered on a deep exhale, his eyes once more drifting closed as Angel's hands roamed the tanned surface of his chest, the tips of his fingers digging into Angel's thighs as the older vampire expertly manipulated his nipples until Lindsey was all but writhing within his grasp.
Momentary doubt filled Spike as he silently watched prisms of light reflect off the sheen covering Lindsey's skin, his gaze traveling the length of the mortal boy's body, a virtual map of fingertip bruises and bites that should have left Lindsey weak from blood loss and yet hadn't. Instead, a fevered heat seemed to radiate from the boy, surrounding both vampires in the warmth they craved and Spike wished briefly that he had time to ask them if this had always been so or if it was a consequence of his connection with Angel.
But time was the one thing he thought they were running short of when Lindsey breathed out a sigh that sounded like the end of the world and said, "The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch."
Angel quite visibly flinched at those words, going as still as Spike was and he lifted his head to lock gazes with the younger vampire.
"Might wanna get dressed, Peaches," Spike said, pushing off the bed in sudden haste as he gathered up the clothing strewn around the room. "Company's coming."
*
Drusilla swept the hem of her long skirt away from the elevator doors as they slid shut and she smiled. She was ascending now, floating up to a new height (yes, very much like an angel, she was) and she wouldn’t be the only one. Not long now.
She knew that she was a wicked girl to peek into the future as she did. All the good children must wait until Christmas morning… but oh, such lovely presents!
The jolt and hiss of the elevator coming to rest made her giggle and she swayed slightly with anticipation. The party mustn’t start without her. She would bring the very best present of all.
The doors slid open and chaos greeted her.
*
“Why doesn't everybody just… calm down for a minute,” Angel tried for the third time, his placating tone almost entirely drowned out by Eve's mounting hysterics. As ridiculous as this was getting, he couldn't really blame her. From a third party point of view, he imagined that they did probably look a little scandalous. His shirt buttons were one off, Spike's hair was tousled beyond recognition and a painfully obvious (and obviously painful) love bite stood out stark on Lindsey's throat, just above what his collar could hide.
Angel refused to contemplate the state of his own hair. Frankly, he was just glad they'd gotten some clothing on by the time what seemed like his entire staff swarmed up to confront them.
He'd always fared better with one-on-one interactions where he had the chance to figure out what the other person was thinking. But when everybody came rushing at him at once like this… Fred's innocent confusion, Gunn's outright suspicion, Lorne's clear distress and Wesley hanging back, his expression unreadable… Angel actually found himself wanting to call for a retreat.
But Lindsey had stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder, a gesture that managed to be entirely pointless and comforting all at once. All hell was breaking loose, but he still had Lindsey. It would be fine once everybody calmed down.
“I can't believe you. I can't believe you!” Eve's voice got a little higher on each repetition. Seeing her flushed and wild-eyed like this, her fists clenched like she was ready to throw herself at somebody, Angel almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“I must've missed the part where this was your business,” Spike commented, cool and unflappable in spite of his thoroughly mussed state. (Angel knew from personal experience exactly how irritating that particular tactic of Spike's was, but watching Eve's lips curl into a vicious little sneer, he was grateful for it.)
“It is my business, you…”
“It's not, Eve,” Lindsey interrupted. Despite his low tone, Eve broke off whatever she'd been about to say to stare at him. “Not anymore. I'm sorry. I thought you understood that.”
“You're a bastard,” she replied, her voice high and grating, like cut glass being dragged across a blackboard and it sounded to them all as if she was choking on the words. Fred made a little noise and stepped forward to touch Eve's shoulder, but Eve jerked away violently. “Don't touch me! This is your fault!”
For a second it wasn't clear who she was addressing, as she whirled to grab at Gunn's jacket, provoking a startled “Whoa, hey!” And then she had a stake in her hand, and Angel had enough time to wonder (not for the first time) exactly what she was, because a regular human girl wouldn't move that fast… way too fast…and then there was no time to move, no time to think...there was only the sound of Lindsey's voice screaming No! as Angel felt himself being pushed aside amid the blur of movement as Eve rushed toward them.
Time suddenly felt as if it was folding in on itself as Angel stumbled and almost fell, his head filled with the rending noise of flesh being torn and the wet snap of bones breaking. Lindsey's forward momentum ground to a halt and the hot, coppery scent of his blood that already perfumed the air increased a hundred-fold. All this was followed by the harsh sound of air being drawn into the lungs of all those assembled and the sound was one of disbelief and horror. Time seemed to slow even more as Angel caught his balance to try to get to Lindsey, knowing that it was too late even as his fingers closed on shoulders that were broader than they used to be.
It was that moment that time chose to speed back up with a quality that felt both surreal and inevitable. There was a fine tremor to the skin underneath his hands as they got a solid grip on Lindsey and Angel had only spare seconds to recognize the mesmerizing, seductive whispering that was spoken so softly only preternatural senses could detect it, only seconds of time to notice his lover's fingers wrapped around the stake buried in his chest and the glazed, blank expression on Eve's face before the hands poised on either side of her head released the hold on it.
Eve's limp body fell to the floor at Lindsey's feet, revealing a softly smiling Drusilla, who reached out a hand to brush the back of her knuckles across the paling curve of Lindsey's cheek. "Happy birthday, brother," she said, her voice a quiet, reverent sound as the other hand lifted to grasp the smooth shaft of wood, her wrist turning the weapon even as she pulled it out with a swift, twisting motion.
Lindsey's eyes rolled back and he made a choked sound, a cross between a cough and a pained groan as he sagged back against Angel, his legs giving out, dragging both himself and the vampire to the floor. They were both aware of the noise that erupted around them as Angel reached out for the ball of black material tossed aside earlier in the night to press to the gaping hole to try and staunch the flow of blood exiting the wound. The smell of it was overpowering, and when Lindsey clumsily grabbed at Angel’s arm, his hand was dark with it.
“Please, don’t…” he gasped.
Angel could feel Lindsey’s life slipping away, even as he pressed desperately at the wound, so hard that he expected to hear bones snap. Please don’t what? Don’t let him die? Or don’t do the thing that Angel’s every instinct was screaming at him to do and to do now, before it was too late? The only thing that could save Lindsey’s life and Lindsey of all people knew exactly what a devil’s bargain that was.
Not a foot away, Drusilla crouched over Eve’s limp body, running her long nails delicately over the girl’s face as Spike stood by her side. “It was what Grandmum wanted,” Drusilla murmured. "She told him so, Daddy," and Angel could hear her perfectly, despite Fred’s shrieks of horror, Lorne's quiet weeping and Wesley’s continued yelling for someone to call an ambulance Now, God, quickly….
“No regrets, Angel,” Lindsey choked out, blood in his mouth, his terrified gaze locking onto Angel's and in his mind, the vampire heard the words that Lindsey had said earlier on this long day that seemed to have no end. When the time comes, I won't fail you, I promise. I'll be there. I'll be there for you....forever, Angel.
Lindsey’s hand fell away from Angel’s arm and his eyes went glassy. Angel felt a noise building in his throat… a roar, a scream…as the beat of Lindsey's heart began to stutter. "Fuck, Angel, do it now...before it's too late," Spike whispered and Angel morphed into his demonic mask, ignoring Gunn as he grabbed at his shoulders and Spike moved swiftly, striking from the side, barreling into Gunn, driving him away from the couple.
Angel gently tilted Lindsey’s head back, exposing his throat. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he lowered his head, fangs sinking into the mark plainly visible on Lindsey’s throat, his entire being attuned to the rushing sound of what blood remained in his lover's body, to the sound of his heart as it slowed to a faint pulse that was weak but still struggling.
Only then did he pull back, tugging at his shirt, sending buttons flying as the material parted. He quickly raked the tip of his thumbnail across his chest and a line of red followed the movement as flesh tore. Cradling Lindsey's head in one hand, Angel lifted him up to what would be his final mortal embrace. Eyes closed, his voice a soothing hum that coaxed Lindsey into rousing as his lips were pressed to the welling wound and Angel finger-combed Lindsey's hair as he drank and nothing in the world seemed more important to Angel in that moment than the faintly thumping heart held so close to his body.
While the others in the room were rendered silent by the swift turn of events, Drusilla's fingers tightened on the blood-dark stake she held as she raised it over Eve's chest, a small smile playing at about her lips, her head tilting as she watched and listened to the fading sound of Lindsey's mortality. Her aim was strong and true as the beat stopped and her hand plunged downward, sending the stake home.
Angel's hand tightened within the tangled strands of his lover's hair as images of Lindsey flashed through his mind at a rapid pace. His eyes were still shut and he continued humming quietly, a sound that was a combination of grief and comfort more than anything else as he breathed in the smell of humanity that would soon fade from the warmth of the body in his arms and he held onto that warmth, oblivious to his surroundings, letting himself feel regret for things that couldn't be changed for just a few short minutes now that the deed was done.
And those assembled, his friends, his co-workers, all of them his family, they let him grieve.
Spike untangled himself from atop Gunn and moved to sit beside Drusilla, silent in the presence of his grandsire's grief, eyes downcast because he couldn't bear to watch the intimate emotion and pain radiating from Angel. Spike could only listen and feel his own for a boy he had barely known and yet had loved the minute they met.
Drusilla let go of the stake protruding from Eve's chest and slipped her hand into one of Spike's, squeezing just a little to reassure her boy despite the faint tremble of fear she felt and Spike didn't know what to think but he was damn unsure what the return of his lover meant.
Fred turned to Lorne in distress, burying her face against his chest, crying silently as his arms circled her and he knew that the tears shed were for both Lindsey and Angel but that she was also weeping because Angel wasn't. He didn't bother hiding his own, although they were as silent as hers.
Gunn sat up from the sprawl where he'd landed, indignation and anger, disbelief and shock evident on his face and he wasn't sure which emotion was stronger but regret for his irrational behaviour and an impending sense of his own cupability in Lindsey's death were blooming within him.
Wesley alone stood stoic, watching Angel's movements, the ever-present Watcher within taking mental notes of every nuance of Lindsey's turning, a thing he had read about time without number but had never witnessed. And he remembered coming upon Angelus holding a very dead Lilah in an embrace that closely resembled the one the vampire was now engaged in and part of him was glad that Lindsey was dead. He hated thinking it, hated that part of himself but was unable not to acknowledge that pettiness, at least to himself, because there was also the knowledge that in other circumstances, he'd have done exactly what Lindsey had.
Angel held onto Lindsey until he felt the temperature of the body held so close to his own drop by the smallest degree and he tilted Lindsey's head back, gazed into empty eyes the color of a clear blue sky, thinking that he should be able to see Lindsey's soul leaving. Wishing that he could because he couldn't think of a more fitting penance for damning the soul of a man he had come to love more than perhaps he should have.
Yet there was nothing, just that emptiness in those eyes that had always looked at him with whatever emotion Lindsey had felt in any given moment. Shaky fingertips gently pressed the lids closed over that sightless gaze and Angel leaned in, pressed a kiss to Lindsey's forehead before lowering his body to rest on the floor and the guilt Angel was filled with took in the sight of it: the hideous wound still weeping dark blood on the shirt that was torn beyond repair, the lividity of the various bite marks marring the column of his throat, the pale tint to Lindsey's skin, the unnatural stillness of his chest, but what Angel focused on most of all was the entwined symbols on Lindsey's upper arm.
~~TBC~~
An Angel/Lindsey story.
Authors:
menomegirl & strangecreatureDisclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Etc, Etc....own them all. We’re just smutting them up for fun.
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: M/M, slash, language, character death
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey/Spike
Chapter Summary: The gang head up to Angel's penthouse while Angel, Lindsey and Spike prepare for an unexpected visitor.
Previous chapters can be found here:
bi_archive. Death Song
"Look, Lorne, you don't understand," Gunn exclaimed, the tone in his voice one of irritation mixed with a healthy dose of fear. "If Angel's really gone bad, then we can't just do nothing, Wolfram and Hart or no Wolfram and Hart. I made him a promise a long time ago and I'll stake him if I have to."
"Oh, would you now?" Lorne replied, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated Gunn. So pronounced were the emotions radiating off him that the empath demon could have read him from a mile off. In the close confines of the elevator, with all the other's auras screaming at him, Lorne was beginning to feel nauseated. "Then why didn't you do it earlier, when you had the chance and surprise on your side?"
"Because I thought you guys needed to know what was going on and Lindsey seemed safe enough," Gunn said, his chin tilting upward almost as if he'd taken a physical blow from Lorne's question.
A short, sharp laugh sounded from behind Wesley and everyone turned to look at Fred. Arms crossed and leaning against the back wall of the private lift, she'd quietly been listening to the others while thinking her own thoughts. "Safe enough? God, Charles, you left Lindsey upstairs with that...that thing that threatened to rape me to death last year. Why would you do that?"
"An excellent question," Wesley said, one eyebrow lifting as he turned back to look at Gunn, his mind rapidly going over the events of the day and what possible motives Gunn would have had for his lack of action. "It would be awfully convenient for you if Lindsey was out of the picture, wouldn't it?"
"It wasn't like that!" Gunn replied. "You didn't hear them, you don't know..."
"Uhhhh!" Eve groaned, pushing past Lorne in the small space. "That doesn't matter now, people. We need to get Lindsey away from him before something even worse happens."
"Afraid that's going to be easier said than done, Eve," Lorne stated, sighing as the sounds of the elevator heralded the end of the short journey to the penthouse suite. "Walking in there with crossbows half-cocked intending to separate a master vampire from his family is probably the last thing we should be doing, like I tried to tell you all downstairs. And Lindsey isn't just family to Angel...Angelus...whoever. Don't you remember what he was like when Darla was around?"
The sound of silence greeted his question as the upward mobility ground to a halt and the doors of the private elevator quietly slid open.
*
Lindsey shivered between the two of them as the unearthly sound of Angel's voice faded and he drew in a deep breath as a warm cocoon of satiation flooded his body despite the trembling of it. Sleepy eyelids cracked open to peer down at Spike as Angel licked the punctures at the side of his neck in a lazy fashion. Lindsey leaned his head back into the touch of his lover as Angel's hands gently moved along his hips.
He breathed out a low, pained hiss at the subtle shift of bodies as he slid out of Spike and Angel withdrew from him, followed by a softer sound at Spike's hand drawing down the sweat-damp sheen on his arm, the light touch ghosting right over the tattoo.
Spike's eyebrows lifted slightly as Angel circled his arm around Lindsey, pulling him back even more and the younger vampire's voice was still a bit raw and edgy as he said, "Hey, it didn't burn this time."
"Didn't expect it to," Lindsey replied, lips tilting in a crooked half-smile as he reached a hand down, fingertips lightly tracing the crude facsimile of the cross now embedded into Spike's skin. "This does, though, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Spike said, lifting his hand to cover Lindsey's, pressing it to the insistent itch under the soft touch, eyes flickering over to capture Angel's as the ink worked its will on his body and his skin crawled with sensation. He wasn't sure if he was pissed at the cruelty of what Angelus had done or thankful that he'd have a reminder of this encounter for the rest of his existence.
Angel pressed a kiss against the warmth of the healing skin under his mouth, shifted behind his mortal lover and reached out with his free hand to brush theirs aside, the tips of his fingers growing warm as they traced the lines of the freshly applied design. A fleeting image of Penn flashed within his mind and Angel knew that Angelus had cut that symbol into Spike for many reasons.
But for Angel, it served as a twisted sort of judgment. Not only for the way his Puritan fledgling had died, but also for the way Darla had. For James, for Elizabeth, for Lawson, even for the Master. It was a brand to remind Angel that he had committed wrongs against his own family, acts that his inner demon never would have. And Angel felt that it was also a warning, one that he planned to heed, if he could, because he'd never had so much to lose before.
His palm spread flat over the pattern painted on Spike's chest in ink and magic and Lindsey held his breath as tendrils of misty smoke rose from the contact between the vampires. Angel lifted his gaze to find Spike's eyes still held on him and he was overwhelmed with a compulsion that he didn't quite understand, one he felt helpless to fight so he didn't even try.
"I'm sorry, Spike," Angel said and even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for, it was something he felt the need to say.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Nothin' to be sorry for, you big poof," he replied with all the disdain he could muster as he struggled to hide how much what Angel had just done and said meant to him.
Elbows digging into the mattress underneath them as he scooted back and Angel's hand fell away from him as he sat up. Fingers closing on the rucked up sheets and he absently wiped away traces of what had just passed as he grinned at Lindsey. "He's so bloody melodramatic."
"Mmm, that's my Angel," Lindsey replied, head falling back with a smile tilting his lips as Angel leaned down to press another kiss to the healing wound on his throat. "The one and only. It's been...forever."
Pausing as he slid to the edge of the bed as Lindsey's words struck a resonating cord within him and one of Spike's eyebrows lifted as he contemplated the tableau of the couple before him."It hasn't even been five minutes yet, Gingersnap."
"Shhh," Lindsey whispered, a crease of annoyance marring his forehead, his eyes blue fire as they slit half-open to peer at Spike. "Grrrruff! Bad dog."
Angel laughed softly at the teasingly uttered words as he nuzzled his way up the side of Lindsey's throat but Spike froze at the sound of them, the intangible thing that had been a shadowy presence in the back of his mind all day solidifying and eclipsing everything else.
For a few short seconds, Spike felt as if his heart had picked up a beat that was erratic before the twin emotions of fear and hope swept the forgotten sensation away, his voice soft in a question formed of one word. "Lindsey?"
"Uh huh?" Lindsey answered on a deep exhale, his eyes once more drifting closed as Angel's hands roamed the tanned surface of his chest, the tips of his fingers digging into Angel's thighs as the older vampire expertly manipulated his nipples until Lindsey was all but writhing within his grasp.
Momentary doubt filled Spike as he silently watched prisms of light reflect off the sheen covering Lindsey's skin, his gaze traveling the length of the mortal boy's body, a virtual map of fingertip bruises and bites that should have left Lindsey weak from blood loss and yet hadn't. Instead, a fevered heat seemed to radiate from the boy, surrounding both vampires in the warmth they craved and Spike wished briefly that he had time to ask them if this had always been so or if it was a consequence of his connection with Angel.
But time was the one thing he thought they were running short of when Lindsey breathed out a sigh that sounded like the end of the world and said, "The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch."
Angel quite visibly flinched at those words, going as still as Spike was and he lifted his head to lock gazes with the younger vampire.
"Might wanna get dressed, Peaches," Spike said, pushing off the bed in sudden haste as he gathered up the clothing strewn around the room. "Company's coming."
*
Drusilla swept the hem of her long skirt away from the elevator doors as they slid shut and she smiled. She was ascending now, floating up to a new height (yes, very much like an angel, she was) and she wouldn’t be the only one. Not long now.
She knew that she was a wicked girl to peek into the future as she did. All the good children must wait until Christmas morning… but oh, such lovely presents!
The jolt and hiss of the elevator coming to rest made her giggle and she swayed slightly with anticipation. The party mustn’t start without her. She would bring the very best present of all.
The doors slid open and chaos greeted her.
*
“Why doesn't everybody just… calm down for a minute,” Angel tried for the third time, his placating tone almost entirely drowned out by Eve's mounting hysterics. As ridiculous as this was getting, he couldn't really blame her. From a third party point of view, he imagined that they did probably look a little scandalous. His shirt buttons were one off, Spike's hair was tousled beyond recognition and a painfully obvious (and obviously painful) love bite stood out stark on Lindsey's throat, just above what his collar could hide.
Angel refused to contemplate the state of his own hair. Frankly, he was just glad they'd gotten some clothing on by the time what seemed like his entire staff swarmed up to confront them.
He'd always fared better with one-on-one interactions where he had the chance to figure out what the other person was thinking. But when everybody came rushing at him at once like this… Fred's innocent confusion, Gunn's outright suspicion, Lorne's clear distress and Wesley hanging back, his expression unreadable… Angel actually found himself wanting to call for a retreat.
But Lindsey had stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder, a gesture that managed to be entirely pointless and comforting all at once. All hell was breaking loose, but he still had Lindsey. It would be fine once everybody calmed down.
“I can't believe you. I can't believe you!” Eve's voice got a little higher on each repetition. Seeing her flushed and wild-eyed like this, her fists clenched like she was ready to throw herself at somebody, Angel almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“I must've missed the part where this was your business,” Spike commented, cool and unflappable in spite of his thoroughly mussed state. (Angel knew from personal experience exactly how irritating that particular tactic of Spike's was, but watching Eve's lips curl into a vicious little sneer, he was grateful for it.)
“It is my business, you…”
“It's not, Eve,” Lindsey interrupted. Despite his low tone, Eve broke off whatever she'd been about to say to stare at him. “Not anymore. I'm sorry. I thought you understood that.”
“You're a bastard,” she replied, her voice high and grating, like cut glass being dragged across a blackboard and it sounded to them all as if she was choking on the words. Fred made a little noise and stepped forward to touch Eve's shoulder, but Eve jerked away violently. “Don't touch me! This is your fault!”
For a second it wasn't clear who she was addressing, as she whirled to grab at Gunn's jacket, provoking a startled “Whoa, hey!” And then she had a stake in her hand, and Angel had enough time to wonder (not for the first time) exactly what she was, because a regular human girl wouldn't move that fast… way too fast…and then there was no time to move, no time to think...there was only the sound of Lindsey's voice screaming No! as Angel felt himself being pushed aside amid the blur of movement as Eve rushed toward them.
Time suddenly felt as if it was folding in on itself as Angel stumbled and almost fell, his head filled with the rending noise of flesh being torn and the wet snap of bones breaking. Lindsey's forward momentum ground to a halt and the hot, coppery scent of his blood that already perfumed the air increased a hundred-fold. All this was followed by the harsh sound of air being drawn into the lungs of all those assembled and the sound was one of disbelief and horror. Time seemed to slow even more as Angel caught his balance to try to get to Lindsey, knowing that it was too late even as his fingers closed on shoulders that were broader than they used to be.
It was that moment that time chose to speed back up with a quality that felt both surreal and inevitable. There was a fine tremor to the skin underneath his hands as they got a solid grip on Lindsey and Angel had only spare seconds to recognize the mesmerizing, seductive whispering that was spoken so softly only preternatural senses could detect it, only seconds of time to notice his lover's fingers wrapped around the stake buried in his chest and the glazed, blank expression on Eve's face before the hands poised on either side of her head released the hold on it.
Eve's limp body fell to the floor at Lindsey's feet, revealing a softly smiling Drusilla, who reached out a hand to brush the back of her knuckles across the paling curve of Lindsey's cheek. "Happy birthday, brother," she said, her voice a quiet, reverent sound as the other hand lifted to grasp the smooth shaft of wood, her wrist turning the weapon even as she pulled it out with a swift, twisting motion.
Lindsey's eyes rolled back and he made a choked sound, a cross between a cough and a pained groan as he sagged back against Angel, his legs giving out, dragging both himself and the vampire to the floor. They were both aware of the noise that erupted around them as Angel reached out for the ball of black material tossed aside earlier in the night to press to the gaping hole to try and staunch the flow of blood exiting the wound. The smell of it was overpowering, and when Lindsey clumsily grabbed at Angel’s arm, his hand was dark with it.
“Please, don’t…” he gasped.
Angel could feel Lindsey’s life slipping away, even as he pressed desperately at the wound, so hard that he expected to hear bones snap. Please don’t what? Don’t let him die? Or don’t do the thing that Angel’s every instinct was screaming at him to do and to do now, before it was too late? The only thing that could save Lindsey’s life and Lindsey of all people knew exactly what a devil’s bargain that was.
Not a foot away, Drusilla crouched over Eve’s limp body, running her long nails delicately over the girl’s face as Spike stood by her side. “It was what Grandmum wanted,” Drusilla murmured. "She told him so, Daddy," and Angel could hear her perfectly, despite Fred’s shrieks of horror, Lorne's quiet weeping and Wesley’s continued yelling for someone to call an ambulance Now, God, quickly….
“No regrets, Angel,” Lindsey choked out, blood in his mouth, his terrified gaze locking onto Angel's and in his mind, the vampire heard the words that Lindsey had said earlier on this long day that seemed to have no end. When the time comes, I won't fail you, I promise. I'll be there. I'll be there for you....forever, Angel.
Lindsey’s hand fell away from Angel’s arm and his eyes went glassy. Angel felt a noise building in his throat… a roar, a scream…as the beat of Lindsey's heart began to stutter. "Fuck, Angel, do it now...before it's too late," Spike whispered and Angel morphed into his demonic mask, ignoring Gunn as he grabbed at his shoulders and Spike moved swiftly, striking from the side, barreling into Gunn, driving him away from the couple.
Angel gently tilted Lindsey’s head back, exposing his throat. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he lowered his head, fangs sinking into the mark plainly visible on Lindsey’s throat, his entire being attuned to the rushing sound of what blood remained in his lover's body, to the sound of his heart as it slowed to a faint pulse that was weak but still struggling.
Only then did he pull back, tugging at his shirt, sending buttons flying as the material parted. He quickly raked the tip of his thumbnail across his chest and a line of red followed the movement as flesh tore. Cradling Lindsey's head in one hand, Angel lifted him up to what would be his final mortal embrace. Eyes closed, his voice a soothing hum that coaxed Lindsey into rousing as his lips were pressed to the welling wound and Angel finger-combed Lindsey's hair as he drank and nothing in the world seemed more important to Angel in that moment than the faintly thumping heart held so close to his body.
While the others in the room were rendered silent by the swift turn of events, Drusilla's fingers tightened on the blood-dark stake she held as she raised it over Eve's chest, a small smile playing at about her lips, her head tilting as she watched and listened to the fading sound of Lindsey's mortality. Her aim was strong and true as the beat stopped and her hand plunged downward, sending the stake home.
Angel's hand tightened within the tangled strands of his lover's hair as images of Lindsey flashed through his mind at a rapid pace. His eyes were still shut and he continued humming quietly, a sound that was a combination of grief and comfort more than anything else as he breathed in the smell of humanity that would soon fade from the warmth of the body in his arms and he held onto that warmth, oblivious to his surroundings, letting himself feel regret for things that couldn't be changed for just a few short minutes now that the deed was done.
And those assembled, his friends, his co-workers, all of them his family, they let him grieve.
Spike untangled himself from atop Gunn and moved to sit beside Drusilla, silent in the presence of his grandsire's grief, eyes downcast because he couldn't bear to watch the intimate emotion and pain radiating from Angel. Spike could only listen and feel his own for a boy he had barely known and yet had loved the minute they met.
Drusilla let go of the stake protruding from Eve's chest and slipped her hand into one of Spike's, squeezing just a little to reassure her boy despite the faint tremble of fear she felt and Spike didn't know what to think but he was damn unsure what the return of his lover meant.
Fred turned to Lorne in distress, burying her face against his chest, crying silently as his arms circled her and he knew that the tears shed were for both Lindsey and Angel but that she was also weeping because Angel wasn't. He didn't bother hiding his own, although they were as silent as hers.
Gunn sat up from the sprawl where he'd landed, indignation and anger, disbelief and shock evident on his face and he wasn't sure which emotion was stronger but regret for his irrational behaviour and an impending sense of his own cupability in Lindsey's death were blooming within him.
Wesley alone stood stoic, watching Angel's movements, the ever-present Watcher within taking mental notes of every nuance of Lindsey's turning, a thing he had read about time without number but had never witnessed. And he remembered coming upon Angelus holding a very dead Lilah in an embrace that closely resembled the one the vampire was now engaged in and part of him was glad that Lindsey was dead. He hated thinking it, hated that part of himself but was unable not to acknowledge that pettiness, at least to himself, because there was also the knowledge that in other circumstances, he'd have done exactly what Lindsey had.
Angel held onto Lindsey until he felt the temperature of the body held so close to his own drop by the smallest degree and he tilted Lindsey's head back, gazed into empty eyes the color of a clear blue sky, thinking that he should be able to see Lindsey's soul leaving. Wishing that he could because he couldn't think of a more fitting penance for damning the soul of a man he had come to love more than perhaps he should have.
Yet there was nothing, just that emptiness in those eyes that had always looked at him with whatever emotion Lindsey had felt in any given moment. Shaky fingertips gently pressed the lids closed over that sightless gaze and Angel leaned in, pressed a kiss to Lindsey's forehead before lowering his body to rest on the floor and the guilt Angel was filled with took in the sight of it: the hideous wound still weeping dark blood on the shirt that was torn beyond repair, the lividity of the various bite marks marring the column of his throat, the pale tint to Lindsey's skin, the unnatural stillness of his chest, but what Angel focused on most of all was the entwined symbols on Lindsey's upper arm.
~~TBC~~
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Date: 2007-12-18 06:14 pm (UTC)Of course, since BI is my own AU, things are a little different but I try to adhere to canon as best I can. I don't want to give too much away, but I can tell you that Eve is close to what she was on Angel. A child of the Senior Partners, created to do their bidding.
And also, Drusilla didn't stake Eve just for the thrill of it (although she did get a thrill out of doing it *g*).
Mmm Spike. *pets him* You'll see.
As for Gunn, well, we'll see about him, too.
Thank you for the lovely comments, honey-and for sticking with me all this time. I appreciate it more than I can say.
*hugs you*