Angel (noirangel) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2014-12-14 01:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !completed gdoc, !log, ~2014 december, ~25 points, ~~angel (noirangel), ~~spike (bleachboy) |
Who: Angel and Spike
What: Serious talks and revelations about the state of things...all with plausible deniability, of course.
Where: WAMM Rooftop
When: Late Saturday Night/Sunday Morning
Warnings: Their usual, without the violence
Status: closed/complete
Angel was fine. That was a lie, but it was one he managed okay these days. Not with the people who knew him -- they still gave him furtively worried looks and danced around topics they thought might upset him. Which was its own kind of problem that he was trying to work out. But with others? With strangers or with people who didn’t know him so well, yeah. He was fine. He was normal. He was back to his old self. That old self that had never held his infant son. Of course that was a lie. But he could make it through the day and more than that, he could do it focused on others, focused on the people surrounding him. The ones he could help. The ones he cared about. And that was good. That was better than nothing and mostly… God, mostly he wished he could unpack the hell he’d gone through in some way that made sense. But Connor was still (would always be?) too raw a subject to bring up with anyone. And it wasn’t like he could talk about Cordelia or that a soul would care about what had happened with Darla. Everything he’d gone through he’d ultimately had to face alone, despite his friends and team. He was still alone and had to deal with it all that way. Except here he had Buffy and he had Spike both in his life and being away from that and coming back to it was just...confusing. He didn’t get what that meant. At the moment, he was lying flat on his back on his rooftop, arms cross behind his head and staring up into the sky, wondering what he was supposed to do and how he was supposed to deal. He kind of felt like he was always going to be a little off. He just hoped he was doing a good enough job of keeping that at bay and pretending. Always pretending. *** Since helping Buffy to get Angel to try embracing the world a bit more, Spike had very decidedly scaled back how much time he actually spent at WAMM. For several reasons that Spike also very decidedly didn't think on for his own sanity (reasons that had to do with things like family, and actually caring about Angel's well being in a genuine way that he wasn't sure had existed months ago -- and what the hell was that?). And it was like Angel had said, anyway, he didn't need a babysitter. And Spike damn sure wasn't one. So he'd done other things, hung out other places. Visited the good old bar, played games on his system. Like things were normal, just like they'd been before. Spike knew the truth, though. Angel wasn't the same. Call it part of his innate ability to know Angel better than he was generally given credit for, but Spike could see it clear as day. He was trying though, which Spike guessed points had to be given for that. Much better than the sitting in a chair all day, at least. Tonight however, was not an avoid-WAMM sort of day, and as such, Spike was planning to drop by on the older vampire. See what he was up to for a bit. Not because he wanted to make sure he was doing all right or anything; just because he so happened to be curious. It didn't take long for Spike to figure out that Angel was on the roof of the building and Spike headed up the stairs, taking his time. Angel would probably be aware that Spike was coming, but it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was trying to sneak up on him or anything. "Pondering life's great mysteries?" he asked drily. *** Angel couldn't be sure what it was about Spike. He was pretty sure it had to do with the way he seemed to...get that all wasn't exactly right. It was almost unnerving. At least it would be if he didn't know the younger vampire as well as he did, if he didn't understand where that...understanding came from. But then, yeah. It was a little unnerving. Because Angel knew too well how very unreal this all was. How back home his life was nothing like this and it didn't have much to do with being transplanted to the Midwest. "You know me," he replied in a calm tone, not moving yet from his position. He could Spike in his peripheral vision. "Have to set aside time for that kind of thing." Sometimes it was maybe better just to agree rather than argue. And in this instance, it was easier than admitting what he really was thinking about. The thought did occur to him though as he looked up at the partially clouded stars above that he had been meaning to speak with Spike, a little seriously, about what had happened. And what he'd done for him. He hadn't had much of a chance to since their conversation with Buffy. He'd been focused on getting back to normal, after all. *** As Angel replied, Spike moved closer to where Angel was still in the same spot on the roof. And since Spike had no plans to take a spot beside him, he remained standing, an eyebrow raising briefly at the answer he did get. Fun banter that didn't tell Spike exactly what Angel was thinking about -- but then again, Spike could guess exactly what Angel was thinking about. He didn't need it spelled out for him in the least bit. The only reason he had no plans to mention it, though, was because he didn't come here to do a serious talk. Well. He didn't know why he'd actually come here, but he still knew why he hadn't. "Does that happen at the same time as your garden variety brooding? Or is it in a whole league of its own?" Spike said then, because banter was… good. Spike was good with that, anything that didn't involve talking about serious things. Spike had actually been a bit grateful that Angel hadn't tried to talk about anything real as of yet. *** "It's got its own special time and place," he answered fairly readily. "Needs air to breathe." It was apparently one of those nights where he didn't mind the brooding comments that much. Possibly because for Spike, it was tame. But also because with Spike, he was at ease with it. The younger vampire had had those opinions for over a century. He was used to it. But if Spike was hoping for a night of light bantering, then he was going to be very disappointed. Angel looked up at Spike when he moved closer, his expression already somber despite their words. Not so much more than usual, but certainly not entirely...relaxed as his position might imply. "What brings you up here?" *** Spike was definitely not being as… sardonic as his usual affair. He didn't want to think that he might've been going easy on Angel, because the very idea of it was completely out of Spike's realm of comprehension, but the reality was that yeah, he probably was. And wasn't that just something in itself? And that was not the sort of question Spike wanted to answer, because Spike didn't have a legitimate answer and Angel shouldn't be expecting one, either. He couldn't see anything good and easy coming out of something like that. Spike wanted good and easy. Way too many of their conversations as of late -- even before Angel had disappeared from town and got the update from hell -- involved talking about serious things. Yes, Spike had pushed for one of them, but it'd only been one of them, and he'd long passed that phase, too. "Enjoying the view," Spike answered. "Nothing like it." *** "Of course. How could you pass up the easy access to one of the taller buildings in this town?" Angel took the opportunity to sit up then, looking at Spike. He made no indication that he was going to rise or that he was otherwise disturbed by the younger vampire's presence. Because he wasn't. Not really. As strange as it still was...he was thankful. He wanted that communicated. He lowered his gaze to the floor of the roof a moment, thinking over his options. He wanted...God, there was a lot to say. He was also pretty sure Spike would resist any attempt he made. Which was just as well, and he could do what he wanted, but Angel was also not just going to sit by and stay quiet anymore. So, yeah. He could try this. He took a small, imperceptible and unnecessary breath before looking back up at him. "Or you're here to check up on me." *** Spike was good with the first part of what Angel said, because it fit with what he had planning for at least the next ten or so minutes. Not actually talking about anything that was Connor, or Pryce, or whatever else might've happened back in L.A. for Angel. Those kind of things. And then Angel had to tack on that second part. Spike couldn't help the sharp look he gave Angel, though he tried to play it off was something a lot less obvious. Less like he'd been caught in the act of doing something that he didn't want to be caught in the act doing. "Why would I come here to check up on you? Last I checked you were well aware and able of taking care of yourself." Bloody hell, he didn't think that sounded all that convincing even to himself. *** "Spike," his tone was its usual quiet, but it held a knowing note in it. He suspected Spike would deny everything he'd done for him since his return. He knew Spike wouldn't want to admit that he'd come to WAMM to check up on him. But if his poor excuse was any indication, that was exactly what he was doing. And Angel was surprised -- yes, still, even though it wasn't the first time -- and peculiarly grateful. Because no, he'd never expected that from Spike. The blond vampire was a carer, that was true, part of his problem, wasn't it? Angel knew that well from all of those years he'd looked after Dru. He'd just never thought any of that would be turned his direction. That was new. "Thanks." Angel's gaze had lowered, finding it harder than he'd anticipated to say this much, but his tone was sincere. "For looking out for me when I got back. For sticking around when you didn't have to." I know that's what you did, Spike. Don't deny it. *** The expression on Spike's face didn't change, even though he could tell that Angel wasn't exactly buying what he was selling. It didn't matter. Spike didn't want to talk about this, just like he hadn't when Buffy had disappeared and he couldn't help keeping an eye on Angel then, either. He didn't know what it said about him. About… things, with them. He spent the majority of his time trying to piss Angel off as much as possible -- though he hadn't done that more than the once since Angel's return -- and then every time things when to shit, he somehow ended up dodging a conversation about him being there, he guessed was what it was. Of caring. Bugger. "Right. Well, if I hadn't, I'm sure Buffy would've just skipped whole days of school and it's not like much happens in my day, anyway. It was nothing." Which was a lie, but Spike would go to hell before he admitted that he stayed out of his own personal feelings on the matter. About Angel, and their relationship. and reasons involving Buffy hadn't been at the top of his list. *** Angel didn't believe the 'it was nothing' line for a second. But he considered letting the younger vampire get away with that. He considered letting him off the hook -- he'd done enough and obviously didn't want to acknowledge what he'd done. But Angel wasn't really in the mindset for ignoring it, either. Or letting Spike think that it wasn't a big deal -- because it was. He should know that. Angel wanted him to understand that his actions were appreciated. He just didn't know how to do so without everything exploding in his face. Or causing an apocalypse. "Doesn't mean you had to spend your days with me," he pointed out softly, raising his head to meet the other vampire's gaze. "As I recall, that's not exactly your favorite thing to do." It wasn't their way. And wasn't that always his refrain? He found it difficult to explain exactly what his feelings and his reactions were when it came to Spike, but he knew instinctively what they weren't. 'Hanging out' wasn't something they did. Although they did spend time together. Yes, it was confusing. "Look, Spike. Just -- thanks. I don't know what I'd be doing right now if it wasn't for you. And I'm really -- I don't know anyone else who'd have met me the way you did, and stayed as long as you did." And there he was referring to the violence of their first encounter when he'd come back, because Spike remained one of two beings he knew who'd take that from him and keep coming back. *** "No, it's not," Spike agreed with Angel, though that might've been a lie, too. Most of the time, Spike didn't know what he thought about Angel, or how he felt. They were just this big mess of century-old complications and all those things with knowing someone too well and then, in some ways, still managing to not know them at all. They were beyond complicated and Angel leaving and coming back hadn't changed that for Spike, though he guessed it might've for Angel. Maybe that was why he thought he needed to do this, this thanking Spike thing. And here was Spike, torn between not wanting it at all, and glad that Angel recognized that, even if it was after the fact. Very after the fact. Even if the recognition wasn't why he did it. "Luckily for you, I'm apparently a tiny bit out of my mind, so that explains that," Spike replied. Yeah, he was still playing it off a bit, even as he finally took a seat on the roof, not quite next to Angel but also not that far away. It was still sort of true, though, wasn't it? Not that he'd gone after Angel, because if Buffy couldn't, then that sort of left him as the second option. The part that made him insane was that he'd gone back to Angel's with him, looked through all those books as if there was a chance in hell that they'd be able to help. That he'd stayed and even gotten a hold of Buffy because he'd known better than to take Angel at his word. And then, that he'd stayed every day from the time Buffy'd left until she'd come back just to keep an eye on him, make sure he ate and things of that nature until he'd had the bright idea to anger him out of his stupor. Yeah, all of that made him out of his mind. And then he added, "You were also a tiny bit out of your mind, which explains that, too." *** Leaving had changed everything. Or at least, it'd turned things around in a way Angel hadn't been prepared for. He'd been told what was coming, what was going to happen in his future, and he still hadn't been prepared for what it meant in his heart -- in his soul. Home meant his world was turned around. He was back in Los Angeles, back with his team, and far, far from the Slayer and Spike. That was a messed up thing in itself, knowing Spike was in Sunnydale, but knowing he, too, was nothing like the Spike who was here. Nothing about his life -- his real life, that was -- resembled his days spent here. And he found he was pretty grateful for that. Because he honestly didn't know how he'd possibly handle all of this without...support. Or maybe he did know. He knew himself well enough to know that he'd weather it resolutely, and without help. From anyone. And he'd sink into that for as long as it took -- for forever -- until he lost all perspective. And carry on. It was...kind of better this way. "Only a tiny bit?" Angel's tone was almost light, but he was glad Spike had taken a seat. That he wasn't running. Which was why it seemed safer to play it off, too. Still, though... "You didn't have to do any of it. And I know that." And I appreciate it, Spike. I really do. And then, just so it wasn't hanging there all bare like that, because Angel could hardly handle it himself, he added, "I'm glad you never came to L.A. in, uh, my time." *** "I was giving both of us the benefit of a doubt." Almost a joke, but not quite. Since they were playing it light for the moment. Some part of him that Spike didn't recognize at all -- at least not when it came to Angel -- wanted to ask him how he was actually doing. And not the bullshit he gave off for the humans, because Spike was sure that he did to some degree. Thankfully, though, Angel spoke up before Spike had the opportunity to give in to the urge, though he wasn't sure if he liked that any better. "I know it too," Spike replied, looking at Angel then for a moment before he had to look somewhere else, at anywhere else, honestly, until Angel spoke up again. "Yeah, I reckon that'd been fun in all sorts of ways." Mostly, Spike was sure they might've tried to kill each other. From what Spike remembered, that was last year, in the midst of Buffy's self-loathing and deciding to use Spike as a temporary fix, he guessed it was. Yeah, that was sure to have started a rumble. *** Angel's expression actually softened into a smile at that -- a brief one, but a smile nonetheless. Playing it light with Spike took a great deal less effort than it took with humans. His humor was definitely intact, if careful. And then he said that next part and Angel was genuinely surprised -- taken aback, almost, that Spike wasn't trying to deflect the statement and instead was in agreement. Acknowledging it. Even if he was avoiding his gaze. Hell. That was...that was good. Yeah. Definitely good. Angel shook his head slightly in disbelief and looked at his lap, thinking. Not seeing Spike back in their world worked in his favor. Because seeing Buffy had definitely, absolutely thrown him off in a way he was still trying to deal with. At Spike's dry statement he looked up, his expression much more pensive than it'd been. "Better off that way, I guess. Not knowing what you were up to." Though Angel had an idea, given past conversations about the state of things in Sunnydale. "You never saw Darla, did you? In the last few years?" A seeming nonsequitor, but it was firmly in Angel's mind. Darla. Their family. *** Acknowledging that he'd done something that Angel was grateful to him for was foreign to Spike. Even more so than when Angel had furnished his living room. Because they hadn't had a conversation, not really. Something said on the network where they weren't face to face wasn't the same. Not at all. But one thing for sure was that it was a good thing the two of them hadn't seen each other, Spike more than agreed. "More like not being faced with what I was up to. Pretty sure you've already got a good idea of it." If he remembered what it was like to be here while he was back in L.A., that was. Spike didn't know what that felt like, and he was glad for it, considering that his future was a bit iffy back in Sunnydale. "Haven't seen Darla since before she died the first time." Spike on the other hand, didn't think about Darla that often, if at all. It was the weak link in their happy little family, he guessed. The two of them not caring all that much about the other -- at least Spike assumed Darla hadn't cared about him. *** Angel had found it strange to be back in LA. He remembered Madison Valley while he was there, though it’d been a little fuzzy. But not gone. That distance though had made it important to him to try to keep living as though it hadn’t happened. To slide back into his life without acknowledging what he’d learned here. But he remembered. And knowing it hadn’t helped entirely. He nodded at Spike’s answer about Darla though. He’d suspected as much. Once Darla had reunited with the Master, there wasn’t any reason for her to hang around Dru and Spike. And no, there had never been much between her and Spike -- ever, really. She’d never really cared about any of the fledglings Angel was interested in, but she’d allowed him to...play. Angel kind of thought she’d assumed Spike wouldn’t last. But despite that, Spike was the only person who knew Darla. Who understood how important she was to Angel, even if Angel tried to make it seem like she wasn’t, not anymore. Especially around the humans. “Right,” he said, the single word a little more tense than he’d intended. Of course, knowing Darla didn’t mean Spike wanted to hear anything about her. Particularly her death this time around and how utterly screwed up and wrong that had been. *** Spike tossed a glance at Angel then, something about the tone of his response. It was easy to forget that Darla was one woman they didn't have in common, would never have in common. Because they'd been at odds over Dru from the start. And would likely be over Buffy now, too, if they were where they belonged. But Darla was just Angel's to be hung up on. And he was, even if he played a good game in not showing it. She was his sire after all. Spike couldn't see himself not willing to do anything for Dru even if they had no chance in hell of ever being what they were again. So Spike thought he got it. And the glance at Angel told him why he brought it up. Of bloody course. Spike didn't know what the hell it meant the world was coming to if he was going to start going soft on Angel. Occasionally. Slipping his pack of cigarettes out of his duster pocket, he took one out and stuck it between his lips. "So what happened?" He asked, his tone nonchalant as he pulled out his lighter and lit the cigarette. *** Angel looked at him. He couldn’t tell if Spike was just humoring him, and it was another couple of seconds or so before he realized that thought was ridiculous and absurd and impossible. The thought that Spike would ever just be humoring him. Even if it may be true. The smell of the cigarette was strong, but not overpowering and it mostly just...matched Spike’s scent, in his mind. His memory for identifying him, and all that. It was comfortable and familiar, anyway. He exhaled a little, unnecessarily, looking down at the top of the roof. “She came back to Los Angeles pregnant and almost ready to deliver. She hadn’t said a word about it, traveling all over the place -- to shamans and healers in every corner of the world trying to figure out how it was possible. When nothing came up, she came to me.” Angel remembered first seeing her, that shock to his heart. “To make a long story short, there weren’t any explanations. The baby -- Connor -- was a miracle. Completely impossible. And a lot of people, including Wolfram & Hart, including some vampire cults and including a time-jumped John Holtz, wanted him. So we did what we could to protect him.” He knew Spike would recognize the name, even if he didn’t remember the details. He and Darla had told them a lot of stories of the past. “Darla was different. She was carrying our child...our human child, and that meant she was housing his soul, too.” *** He was mostly glad that Angel didn't bother to question why Spike was even asking, or acting like he cared about the answer. Spike just… didn't want to get into that. It was more than enough in his opinion that they'd already had the conversation about his motives, kind of. Yeah, his motives. Spike mostly focused on his cigarette while Angel was talking, wondering what the hell that must've actually been like. For Darla, since getting up the duff wasn't supposed to be a thing for the dead, and for Angel, because getting someone there wasn't supposed to be a thing either. What definitely did prick his interest was the mention of the name Holtz. Spike had definitely heard about him before, even if he was sure that he'd pretended that he hadn't been paying attention when the storied had been told. Holtz had been some hunter after the two of them for a bit after they'd killed his family or something along those lines. Yeah, Spike could see how Angel's kid would be a thing the bloke wanted. "And how did that go? Having the soul?" Spike was actually interested in the answer to that one. *** Angel made a grim sort of smile at the question, thinking back. He rested his arms over his legs and considered it. "Slowly," he said. "It didn't -- she was every bit Darla. Down to threatening my team every other sentence. But she was also...hormonal, I guess. It was...weird." It had been weird. Seeing Darla fragile and emotional and...motherly in a way drove home how sometimes she was...that way with him. He'd never really noticed it before. Before his soul. "And she...loved the baby." Angel's voice was very small then. "More than I've seen her love anything. More than I think she's ever loved. And he wasn't even born yet. She -- she wanted him safe. And protected." He paused, thinking about her reluctance to even have him. He let out a sigh. "She was afraid for him. That if he was born, she wouldn't be able to love him. She -- she recognized that she could love him, and she was afraid that would end up twisted and wrong if he -- if his soul left her body." *** Weird sounded about par for course. Both here and back where they were supposed to be, honestly. Even if a bit of that sounded like the Darla he remembered. What he got to see, since he definitely hadn't known her half as well as Angel did, which only made sense. Spike looked at Angel then, though, a frown on his face and his cigarette in hand. Souls were funny things. Didn't know what you'd get if you had to deal with one, and you didn't know what you'd get when it was gone. Which sounded exactly like what Darla had been worried about. "Yeah, that sounds like a happy ending," Spike commented sarcastically. Because it really didn't even in the least bit. and he was more than sure that whatever Angel told him next would just prove that. *** Angel shook his head, more at himself and the situation than at Spike. His sarcasm cut, but he couldn't fault him in it. Not this time, really. "I killed her the first time," he said. "Back in Sunnydale. When I first got there. For Buffy. To protect her and to prove I wasn't...part of that, anymore." It had killed him a little then, to do it, but he'd had to. It was the right thing and his own personal suffering in it didn't matter. Buffy did. She was what was important. Only increasingly so ever since then. "Then Wolfram & Hart brings her back and I try to save her," his tone was a little more bitter then. "And fail. And somehow we end up with an impossible child." It was a messed up situation, wasn't it? There was very little about his life that was ever...normal. "She was having...trouble with the pregnancy. She's a vampire. She wasn't meant to sustain a human. We weren't...we weren't sure if she'd be able to have him, in the end. Her body wasn't equipped to...give life. After all that." And wasn't that...hell. That was hell, right there. "Holtz found where we were hiding out. He threw an arsenal at us. I tried to get her out, get her safe so we could find somewhere else, escape...but she wouldn't go. We were in an alley. And she told me to tell our son that he was the...one good thing she and I had ever done. The only good thing. And then she took up a piece of debris and stuck it in her heart." *** Spike knew about the first bit, Angel killing Darla. How couldn't he, being around Dru at the time? He couldn't ever imagine doing it, if he'd been in the position, because Dru had been everything to him. His entire world, really. She'd made him, was his destiny, his dark princess, all that Even if she was a bit wishy washy. And then he'd fallen in love with Buffy and threatened to kill Dru as proof of that, but Spike still didn't know if he could have actually done it. Ending his sire? Even if there wasn't a chance in hell that he and Dru would ever be what they were to each other ever again, he just didn't see that happening. So Spike felt that he got a little bit of how that might've felt for Angel, actually staking Darla the first time. And he knew all about her coming back human and Dru turning her already from when Dru had rode into Sunnydale in the middle of that mess. The rest was new to him. "She killed herself for the kid," Spike said almost matter of fact in tone. It made sense, in a lot of ways, to Spike. Besides worrying about what not having a soul would do to him, it made sense. And had also left an impression on Angel, too. *** "...Yeah." Angel's brow furrowed a little in thought, wondering about Darla and how things would have gone if she hadn't had to die. If she'd somehow...been a part of Connor's life. Maybe even part of his life, in Los Angeles. Was that even possible? Or had her life been destined to end in order to make room for the life of their child? Where did that leave him? He wasn't sure why he'd told Spike all of it, except that he kind of felt like he'd needed to. He'd needed to tell someone. And he thought...maybe someone else needed to hear it, how Darla died this time. How selflessly she'd done so. "He was so small," he said after a long moment. "Tiny. Just laying there in the alley where she'd been." Angel shook his head, letting the memory go, his expression wistful. "I never would have thought Darla had it in her." *** He didn't really think too much on why Angel had decided that Spike was the person he wanted to tell any of this to. He figured it made sense, in a certain way. Lacking as it was, Spike had still known Darla. He also thought he knew more than a bit of what it felt like to have a soul, even if his was still on the newer side of it. And he got the whole sire thing. So, no, he didn't think much of Angel deciding to tell him anything, even if he was a lot less sure of why he'd gone along with it. Other than the obvious -- and he was right back to not thinking much on that for good reason. "Every once in a while, someone'll surprise you," Spike answered with a shrug. He definitely wouldn't have credited Darla as someone who didn't look out for herself first, that was for damn sure. He figured, though, that it took the whole picture for her to do something like that. The soul, the kid being human, all of it. *** "Every once in a while." Angel's head was turned to look at Spike as he spoke, his tone quiet, the wistful expression faded into something else. Something maybe a little...gratified. Pleased. Not that he let it last too long. Darla was gone. Again. Angel couldn't say he missed her. He couldn't say he wished she was around or that it had gone...differently. Not really. But he did think about her. His sire. She'd been part of the focus in his life for so long, and she'd carried his child into the world. Of course he thought about her. He was surprised Spike had listened to him. Hadn't interjected with more comments about her or the story or any of it. He was...grateful for it, but he wasn't going to expect him to sit around and listen to him tell stories about the rest of his time back home. "Going back is...weird, Spike," he said. "Everything's all jumbled. Too much happened. Remembering this place and how...different it is..." *** The thing of it was, Spike just so happened to be perceptive enough to realize that one of the major differences in Angel now was how he thought of Darla, when he thought of her. Obviously because of Connor, since a lot of things at the moment were because of the baby. So making a snide comment or two about Darla might have been something he'd have done before, but it wasn't something he'd do now. Well, all right, he couldn't exactly promise he'd never do it, but in the middle of serious talk time wasn't it. Which Spike didn't even know why he was entertaining still, anyway, but seeing as he was already this deep in it, what the hell? "It doesn't fit?" Spike hazarded a guess as he flicked away what remained of his cigarette. "It's got to be a bloody mess. I can't imagine it. We're just meant to… what? Pick up where we left off before we ended up here. Is that it? If that's the case, I pick door number two where I don't go anywhere at all." *** A serious talk was something Angel had sorely needed, even if he hadn't exactly realized it. He'd been making an effort to get engaged with the people he knew and their problems and get back into the swing of his life here. He'd forgotten that pretending only did it for others. Even if things with Buffy were better resolved than they'd been, he was still...less there than he should be. He still needed this. So it was good. That he could do this with Spike. Debrief, or whatever the hell this was. "I don't know. I guess for some people, they forget this place so it doesn't matter, going back. Their time here's just gone to them. And if they come back, it's all new again." Angel didn't think he'd ever want that to happen. That'd be worse than suffering through whatever fresh hell his dimension had in store. "But you're right. It is a mess. A really confusing one." He'd gone straight back to the break he'd taken, to mourn Buffy. He'd had to go on as though he didn't know she'd come back. And as though he didn't know Spike would soon have a soul. He'd had to go on without either of them, and that had been...so much weirder than he'd expected. Spike's words made him pause though and he looked at him, eyes intent and curious. "You wouldn't want to go back? If given the choice?" *** The very idea of going back to Sunnydale and ending up back in Madison Valley without any memory of it didn't sit well with Spike. Because of a lot of reasons, he figured. Some of the people he'd met here, Veronica and Thalia for a couple of instances. And ones that weren't in town anymore, like Pam. And then, yeah, there were things with Angel. Whatever the hell things were supposed to be with Angel. Their… relationship was beyond undefinable. It'd been that way even before Angel had gone and disappeared from the town and Spike considered the possibility that the older vampire wouldn't come back. The weirdest part of that had been that while a good deal of it had been being concerned with how that might affect Buffy, he'd been almost similarly occupied over what that meant for him. "You go on and you go through a few months, while as far as things are concerned here, you've only been gone a few days. Yeah, it's confusing on all sides." Spike gave Angel a look at the question he posed. He knew several months ago that had been the only thing he'd wanted to do, at least until Faith had first mentioned the very real idea of him dying in Sunnydale. But he still didn't think it'd completely been a feeling he'd let go of until right about now. "It just seems like it's in my best interest that I don't go anywhere," he answered, aiming for casual with his tone. "Not like there's anything good waiting for me there, anyway." Well, there was Buffy. But he wasn't thinking about that right now. *** Angel had to make sure he wasn't staring too hard at Spike when he admitted that much. He was looking at the younger vampire almost in disbelief, and maybe a little surprise, a little...wonder. It wasn't what he expected to hear at all. This was Spike, who'd complained all the time about how boring it was here, how he didn't have anything to do. He wanted to stay? When had that changed? What had changed? Honestly, Angel was fighting back the sudden urge to react more strongly. To do something he'd probably regret because he was -- glad, really. Relieved. And wanted to say as much, show he was. He exercised his immense restraint and instead nodded slowly, averting his gaze. "Yeah. I'd, uh, prefer you didn't go back, either." For a lot of reasons. For a lot of complicated reasons. Because of whatever was apparently in store for him, if he did go back. Because there was no way to control how it happened. Because if Spike went back, then he wouldn't be here. *** Spike's reasons for staying in Madison Valley -- or wanting to stay, at least -- were entirely about the people. Beyond the ones that weren't from his world that he'd lose if he left. Beyond the fact that he potentially had death waiting for him if he did go back to Sunnydale. There was also the very obvious fact that Spike didn't have… this in Sunnydale. For all its messy confusion, he'd gotten a bit too used to having the other vampire around regularly he guessed. He just -- it was complicated. It would always be complicated, but it was constant. He sort of liked having that. Spike had met Angel's gaze at first, able to see the surprise at his answer, and there was… something, he thought, before Angel just gave him a nod and looked away. And Spike didn't know what to think about what he said then, either. He guessed it was that he hadn't thought that this conversation would even be a possible thing. There sat the two of them, being alright with each other's presence, preferring it almost. Bloody hell, maybe they were both going a bit soft on each other. "Well. That's… nice. Glad we're agreed on that." And if that bit of information was even a little bit pleasing for Spike to hear, he tried to not have that show on his face or in his voice. *** Angel had experienced what it was like to not have Spike around. He'd known what that was for a century. But going back for the months he had this time... God. It was weird. It was different. Probably because it was this Spike. This one that never seemed to stop causing him headaches and complicated...feelings. This one that he'd grown far more attached to than he'd even realized. The one he had a lot of hope for and a lot of...yeah. Complicated...feelings. So...what? Had they both just admitted to being glad to be around each other? Well -- sort of. Angel thought maybe there was something even in Spike's answer. Something that was just as confused about this conversation -- and about his own part in it. But as ever, it was hard to tell. And Angel eyed the younger vampire a moment, before giving his own reply, trying to find less mercurial ground to stand on. "Guess we are." Who would have thought? "Still wish there was something here worth fighting." *** Yeah, Spike had no idea what this was anymore. He didn't even know why he bothered trying to sort it out. It was never going to make sense to him. This idea that they were... what they were. Whatever the sodding hell that was. "Been saying as much for months now. Town's still boring -- that hasn't changed." Spike was grateful for the topic change, though. It let him try to focus on something that wasn't their relationship or all the weird feelings that came with it and with everything that happened here between them. After a moment, Spike looked over at Angel. "We could go down to the training room. Try to stab each other a few times." *** Letting things between them stand they were, while confusing and complicated and lot of other things was also...preferable to Angel. For all its messiness, he kind of liked how things were. And he figured they were fragile and he didn’t really want to change it -- do anything that might shake it up too much. So it was best just to ignore it and let be, he guessed. He considered the suggestion, looking back at Spike, meeting his gaze a moment before nodding and looking down at his hands. “You just want a fair chance at stabbing me,” he pointed out, but he was almost smiling. “Yeah, I could go for that.” *** Spike didn't think there would actually be a time where things would not be complicated between them, whether they were trying to kill each other, or they got along. That was what came with knowing someone for over a century, he guessed. Maybe this wouldn't even last more than a few weeks -- it was entirely possible with the two of them, Spike was well aware. Spike was focusing on the present, though, and that was them going to spar for a bit. Since Angel had agreed to it and all. "I'm almost offended you'd say that," Spike started as he pushed himself to his feet. His tone was light, but not the same as it would sound if he was forcing it to be. "I'm much more of a fan of hitting you with blunt objects." He added that last bit with a smirk before heading for the door. *** Angel rolled his eyes, the action an almost automatic response to Spike, but it was that same familiar one he was good with falling back on. More than good. Comfortable. “Funny,” he commented darkly, following after the blond vampire. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I do inventory. All the blunt weapons can go to you.” So, this was where they were. Even after all of those months apart on his end, even after the fighting and the silence and unsaid...whatever. They were still okay. And maybe a little better than okay. Things between them were never going to be entirely...clear. It couldn’t be, not with their history and not with the way their situation was laid out now, either. But on some things, on some of the most important things, Angel was really glad to have some reliable stability in his relationship with Spike. Whatever the hell it actually was. |