Some Devil 3/11
Title: Some Devil Author: twisted_reach Pairing: Spike/Angel, Will/Liam Rating: T Warnings: Starts with very strong language. Time frame: goes AU post NFA Summary: A take on how Shanshu might work - after the battle Spike wakes up to Will’s life. Part 1 Part 2
He sleepwalked through work.
Sandra called him into her office at lunchtime.
"Will, I'm sending you home. You look like death warmed up, you're dressed scruffier than most of the students. I think you should speak to someone about what happened."
He looked at her dumbly.
"Will? Do you understand? I know the hospital gave you the number of a counsellor, I think you should call them. Your insurance will cover it."
"Right."
"Okay," she looked doubtfully at him, "I can arrange cover for you through next week, and longer if you need it. Occupational Health would like a copy of any report the counsellor produces, but it will be treated confidentially; personnel and management won't be privy to it."
"Yes, boss." He managed a wry smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Don't call me boss," she smiled back, an old joke.
"Yeah."
She watched with concern as he left the office in a walking daze.
He investigated. Like a good little Angel's apprentice.
No Wyndam-Price, no Burkle, no Gunn at this address.
Drusilla Perkins, Liam Maloney - too far back, would need to go to paper records back in the UK.
Dawn Summers - no record of birth, attendance at any LA schools, any California schools.
He wracked his brains.
Try a spell. No good at magic. Don't have to be, just something simple. A glamour? What do I need? Think damn it.
He cobbled together some ingredients he thought might work. He sat in his living room on the floor in a chalk circle. Candles, herbs, vague recollection of how Dru used to do this: check, check, check. He lit the big candle in front of him last and held the bundle of herbs in the flame, muttered the incantation. His reflection in the bathroom mirror, propped in front of him against the TV stand, stared back unchanged.
On the third try he put his fist through it.
He sat sobbing on the bathroom floor, his hand wrapped tight in a towel with bloody flowers blooming on it. No magic. A world with no magic, no demons… no heroes. He wondered if there were no shrimp here either, and giggled high pitched and hysterical between sobs.
A world with no way back.
No way back to a world with nothing to go back to. He'd been ready to die, right? Go down fighting? But did that mean he would have ended up here anyway? Shanshu, right? Become human, like Angel couldn't 'cause he'd signed it away.
Get a grip, Spike.
He'd survived 'death' three times now. Other times there was a bit of torture involved - Angelus the first time, being a ghost the next. Not to mention going mad in a basement after the soul or becoming a pet to the bloody Scooby gang because of the chip. He could handle being a teacher - though if he had to watch any more of the little fuckers chewing their way through a lecture he might go back to dishing out torture instead of assignments.
You never much liked magic anyway.
He clenched his jaw and hauled himself upright, carefully peeling back the towel to inspect the damage. Shit, would that need a doctor? Would a human need stitches? Think! No. No stitches, blood not flowing fast anymore. Band-aids would do. Gonna take a while to heal though.
FUCK.
He wanted to be a vampire. He didn't want to be human. So ruddy breakable. Shouldn't smoke, shouldn't sunbathe, can't hear or smell worth a damn, can't see in the dark. Take fucking ages to heal. Weak, slow. This was supposed to be a reward?
He wanted forever back. Dru offered to show him wonderful things and he said yes. Angelus telling him it was forever was a revelation. He wanted -
But you can't have, Spike.
He looked at the space where the mirror should have been and felt uncomforted by the missing reflection. He left the mess in the living-room and curled up on top of his bed still half dressed, pulled the blanket over himself awkwardly and slept like the emotionally exhausted all-too-alive.
Counselling. Great idea.
No I'm not bothered about being mugged, been through half a dozen apocalypses me, fought hell-gods and slayers and won - most of the time. What's the matter? Oh, well I used to have superpowers, but my sort of grandfather - and I say that in the most twisted sense imaginable - he killed me after one last tantalising snog and I slipped into a dimension where I'm a weakling and I'm going to die. What's that? Didn't I mention I used to be immortal? I'm actually the wrong side of 150. Why thanks I do look good for my age don't I. Yes, measure me up for the straight jacket now, last padded cell on the left will suit me fine.
He muttered some stuff about feeling vulnerable, and how not being able to catch the perpetrators made it worse, and about dreams where he could get his own back.
Diagnosis post-traumatic stress, prescription 'mild sedatives to help you sleep' and a card in case he wanted to talk some more. Clean bill to go back to work 'as soon as you feel up to it' but 'take it easy and avoid excess stress'.
He decided to make the most of enhanced taste buds. Bought way too much food and struggled back to his flat with it.
Chocolate - wow, this was good. Buffalo wings even better than he remembered. Food they said was good for you this week, food they said was bad for you every week. Fruit he remembered being a summer treat when he was a boy. When he was a real boy? When he was first a boy?
Shit, this new lot of memories was creepy. It was like the gaps only filled in as he needed them, but then it was like they were always there. And they didn't seem to replace his old ones at all. He wondered if he'd become a split personality. Were split personalities really other refugees from other dimensions?
He got sunburned on the roof of the apartment block in the little garden a couple on the second floor had set up. He called Isa for advice and got chided for being careless. He whined until she suggested aloe vera and lavender oil. Jim snagged the phone from her and asked Will over to keep him company Friday - Isa was going out with her sister and he had to be on baby duty.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Had a disagreement with the bathroom mirror."
"Not the fairest of them all any more?"
"Fuck off. Oh shit, sorry does that monitor thingy go both ways?"
"No, my child's ears are unsullied by your profanity."
Will smiled sheepishly and took a slug of his beer.
"Having a bit of a meltdown were you?" Jim tried for casual, but came across simply concerned.
"Yeah, making a prat of myself, as usual. Got control issues still I guess."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Been to the counsellor haven't I."
Jim snorted, "Told him exactly what he wanted to hear, I bet. Too clever for your own good you are Will."
Will just looked at his sticking plastered hand as he flexed it. How could he couch this in terms his friend would even comprehend? The baby monitor conveyed a snuffly cry.
"You gonna get that?"
"Give her a minute, she'll usually settle down on her own," Jim wasn't letting him off that easy, "Will?"
"I… it wasn't the getting mugged as such. Though that's part of it, I just hadn't been dealing with some other stuff, and I guess it caught up with me?"
Was that vague enough? I decided to go along with a suicidal last stand, again, without thinking about why I was doing it, or the consequences of my actions, and I have really disturbing relationship issues.
"Hmm. Want to go into any of it? The 'other stuff'."
"Not really." wry smile.
"Well don't let it get on top of you again. Talk to me or someone before you do yourself some lasting damage. Promise me?"
"What am I, five? Want me to cross my heart?"
"Look you're my last cool single friend. I'm being purely self-serving here, need some escape from domesticity. You're my oasis. Can't have you screwing it all up."
Will raised his newly scarred eyebrow. The baby monitor set up a steady wailing.
"Ah. My master's voice." Jim got up.
"Escape from domesticity, huh? You love every minute."
Jim grinned widely and headed upstairs.
When Isa got home Jim met her at the door, "Honey, you gotta come look at this."
He pulled her towards the sitting room "Laure was all fussy so I brought her down and Will took her while I went to fix a bottle, and when I came back…"
Will was asleep flat out on the sofa with Laure fast asleep on his chest.
"How long have they been like that?" Isa whispered.
"3 hours give or take. Keep watching."
"What am I-"
The baby shifted slightly and Will's hand came up automatically and stopped her from slipping.
"Every time she moves, he stops her falling off. I thought he wasn't really asleep, but he's dead to the world. Guy's got amazing reflexes."
"That's very cute, cherie, but I think we should put her down properly now." Isa smiled indulgently at her husband, then gently moved and picked up the baby.
Will stirred when Laure was lifted off his chest, "Huh?"
"Hey sleepy head. You want to crash on the fold out?"
"Jeez. What time is it?"
"2 am. I wouldn't have woken either of you, but Isa insisted."
"Sorry. Not the greatest company. Did I snore?" he grimaced and ran his hand through his hair.
"You both slept like babies it seems." Isa carried the still sleeping Laure up to bed.
"So dude. You up for babysitting next Friday?"
"Wha? Oh okay. I guess so. Would Isa be alright with that?" Will looked fuddled.
Jim just laughed and went to get some sheets.
Psycho-killer extra-ordinaire turns babysitter. Mate if only you knew.