Chapter 12
Must Come to an End
E/D: Illy was so distraught topost this sheasked me if she could do it later 'cause it'd be the end of"Raising Hell"P,but here it is, in all it's glory. If there were any typo's or spelling errorsin any of the chapters, I swear she put them in after I checked it.
Bon appetit! (and tell her to write a sequel, I get so bored!)
A/N: A quick note on the story before I start the big she-bang good byes. The "shadows" are the spirits of Spike's past victims. I chose this as a threat, because as we repeatedly see as a vampire with a soul, Angel is tortured by his past crimes. For Spike these shadows are the physical manifestation of that guilt. Children often deal with things more physically than adults. Ok, so now that I've said that P
Last chapter! Wowo. I've got to say it's been a long enjoyable time for me. I've been writing this for nearly six months, it was the first fic I wrote in the Jossverse.
I want to thank you all for reading, because without readers, writing is practically superfluous.
Special thanks to the reviewers who keep coming back and reviewing. It's nice to see a familiar name on a review, I realy value you guys: msu, Screeching Dragon, and especially Spike's Girl Luna Ash who has reviewed since chapter 1.
Hello and hugs to my constant reviewer and fanfic friend Freezyboncoolipants! P does the dance of being 15! (remember that? Funny P)
And a very special thankyou to Higgy, who set the challenge for this fic and who reviewed me all the way.
I'm going to miss you all once this is over. I hope some of you will read my other stuff, but if not, then I guess this is goodbye. Sometime down the line I'm thinking of writing a sequel, so we'll see ay? Have fun ya'll. Thanks for reading.
If you'll all divert your eyes downwards, the last chapter of "Raising Hell" is below.
"What do you mean the "shadows" are coming for Spike?" Fred asked. She and Wesley were holding Tilly up between them, the little girl almost passed out in their arms.
"The shadows, I can feel them." Tilly said.
"Who are they, Matilda?" Wesley asked, "What do they want?"
"The things he did, the people he killed, they've come for him. They…they want him to pay." Her eyes flashed a brilliant white and her voice deepened with the echo of angry spirits. "We shall do to you what you have done to us. Are you afraid to die, little dead thing?"
Tilly kicked out violently as something coursed through her filling her with its rage. "Hold her still!" Wesley instructed. Fred grabbed Matilda and between the two of them they managed to hold her. The little demon in Fred arm's writhed and struggled as the shadows possessed her. Fred was terrified, her eyes were wide and her hands shaking."It's alright Fred," Wesley said calmly, "It will pass."
Fred looked into his comfortingly stable eyes and nodded. She had to be strong and help, for Matilda and Spike. This wasn't the time to be scared. The possession did pass, and within seconds the girl fell still again. Fred tried carefully to lift Tilly's head from her chest where it lolled after her collapse. "Matilda?" She ventured carefully.
"We need you to wake up now, Matilda." Wesley said loudly and deliberately, "We need you to tell us where the shadows are. Spike needs your help."
Tilly opened her eyes with effort, "A-Angel's office," she said. She tried to stand but her knees gave way and she fell heavily into Fred. She looked pleadingly up at the young scientist, "Spike's on his own. They're gonna kill him."
"We have to help him," Fred stated the obvious. She carefully lifted Tilly onto her lap as the little girl wobbled dangerously close to falling over again.
"What about Matilda?" Wesley asked. "She can't stay here alone."
"I want to come too." Tilly said. The adults exchanged dubious looks, "Please? I'll be ok in a minute. Spike's my best friend. He's my only friend. I have to help him."
"Alright," Wesley agreed. "Fred, you wait with Matilda while she recovers."
"Where are you going?" She asked Wesley.
"To get weapons." He replied.
Fred furrowed her brow, "What sort of a weapon do you use against a shadow?"
"M-mummy?" Spike asked, looking up at the imposing spectres. The shadows swirled around Spike, leering and shouting, baring their hideously long teeth and glowering with their red eyes.
"Remember us?" his mother screeched, "remember how sweet your mother's blood tasted on your sinful lips?" He did remember them, all of them. The way they cried when he bit into their necks, the way their bodies fell limp, the way they tasted on his devilish tongue. "You thought you could run, you thought you could hide. But we have found you."
"No, it's not true. I don't want to hide." Spike sobbed, "Mummy, I just want you to forgive me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to take our lives? You didn't mean to kill us all? You didn't mean to laugh over our cold bodies?"
"I'm sorry," Spike said.
"Sorry helps nothing!" The ghost shrieked. She lashed out at the boy, her arm impossibly long, and slapped him hard across the face. Her ghostly nails solidified and scraped the skin from his cheek. Spike cried out. His cheek stung. "How dare you cry, little killer? How dare you shed a tear? It is we who have cried. We who are dead!" She lashed out again at his cheek, this time drawing blood.
Angel struggled through the office. The air was thick; it was like trying to run through water. He thrashed wildly at the shadows to no avail. "Let me through!" He screamed at the shapeless smog before him, "Spike! Let me through damn it! Don't you dare hurt him!"
"This is not your business vampire." The shadows hissed, "the thing will pay for what he has done, you cannot stop us."
"The hell I can't." Angel said, thrashing his way toward the office doors. From behind the wooden barricade, he heard Spike's feeble sobs. "Spike," He yelled, "I'm coming. It's ok."
"Angel?" Spike called hopefully. "Angel?!" Frightened tears dribbled down his face, mingling with the blood there from his cuts. "Help me, Angel. Please, help me!"
The shadow smiled maliciously, "Think your hero will save you?" she asked, "Think you deserve saving? You don't! The vampire cannot save you, nor should he. He's as vile and disgusting as you. Just as much a killer. Once we have killed you, we will kill him. Do you know why little vampire?"
"Be-because we're killers." Spike whispered.
"What are you?" The shadow screeched.
"Killers!" Spike yelled. "Killers! Bad, evil, killers!" He jumped to his feat and screamed the word over and over again, believing it more and more as his voice got louder and louder. "Killers, killers, killers! We're killers!"
The shadow smacked him down again, the blow sending him tumbling backward. "Killers." The shadow agreed, "this is all you are. Your precious "soul" will not save you, will not redeem you, will not hide you. You cannot pretend you are good, because we know, we know what you are, what you always will be." The great shadowy hand lashed out again, clawing at Spike's chest. The little vampire tried to scramble away, but the shadows were everywhere. They tore at his clothes and scratched his skin. Their nails were long and sharp, the cuts they caused stung, filled with a shadowy and unseen poison. Spike could feel all their hands and teeth clawing and snapping. His mother's face loomed above him, the way she had been moments before her final death, hideously glowing yellow eyes, the heavy demon brow, sharp animal white teeth; a vampire. She was screeching at him "This is what you get little killer! This is what you deserve! We'll kill you, vampire scum, just like you killed all of us!"
Spike stopped struggling, letting the clawed hands rip and tear at him. The hands attacking him tossed his little body from side to side, but he simply crossed his arms over his chest and shut his tearful eyes. "This is what I deserve." He whispered, "I am bad, and I should be punished. Kill me, mummy, please. Just kill me"
The door slammed open. Crashing against the wall so hard it came flying off it's hinges. His mother's face vanished from above Spike, as the shadows turned to see to intruder. They squealed in anger as something very strong forced them apart, thrashing its way toward Spike.
"Kill me!" The little vampire yelled desperately, eyes still clamped shut waiting for his pain to finally be over. He thrashed out violently at the invisible creatures around him, tumbling and kicking wildly on the carpet. "Kill me!" He screamed again "I'm a killer, I deserve it! Why aren't you killing me?!"
Something strong and heavy grabbed him round the waist and held him tight, stoping his mad thrashing. "Spike," It was Angel. Angel had come to rescue him after all. "Spike stop it." He said.
Spike fell still. With much effort he opened his red eyes and looked up into the face of his grandsire, "Angel?" he asked, "No!" he screamed, struggling wildly again, "Let me go. I want them to take me. I deserve it, Angel. Don't you see? I'm bad!"
"No, Spike," Angel said, "You're not bad."
"Yes I am!" the vampire screamed. "I killed them all! I just killed them. I'm a murderer, a killer, I need to die. I'm bad."
"Not anymore," Angel insisted, still struggling with the madly thrashing child, "You were bad, but you're good now, I know it. I've seen it. You died once to save the world, do you remember that? You're good Spike, you're a hero now."
"No," Spike sobbed, "No I'm not."
"You have to be," Angel said, his voice barely a whisper, "You have to be good, so I can be good. We'll be heroes together Spike."
Spike stopped kicking. "Angel," He sobbed, crying into the older vampire's chest, "I wanna be good. I do."
"So do I, Spike," Angel said.
"Well guess what?" screeched the spirit, suddenly looming above them, "you're not good, either of you. You've come to save him? Then you can die as well." The shadows flew around the vampires cowering on the floor, the cold wind whipping Angel's coat as he crouched over Spike to protect his little child.
"You want to take him?" Angel shouted "Then you'll have to go through me."
The angry spirit laughed, "Don't you listen?" it hissed madly, "I'm perfectly happy with killing you both." All at once the hundreds of shadowy bodies charged at the pair. As each one passed through him, Angel felt his dead hart freeze with the icy wind. They were like cold knives, stabbing every inch of him over and over and over. He cried out as they attacked him, knocking him backward. The pain was unbearable. He could feel every inch of him screaming in agony. It was like having all his muscles ripped from his bones, all his flesh scratched away. He was paralysed by cold and pain and something else entirely; guilt. He tried to move, tried to reach out; he had to find Spike and protect him at all costs. "Spike!" He yelled. "Spike!"
"Angel!" The little vampire struggled to break free of the shadows clawing at his legs. With a great effort, Spike dragged himself over to Angel, grabbing hold of the vampire's hand. "Angel, don't let go of me." He said.
"I won't." Angel promised. "I'm here Spike, I'll always be here. I love you."
The shadows worsened their attacks. Angel looked down at the little vampire beside him. Spike's eyes where closed, he wasn't moving. The shadows rushed at him, causing his little limbs to spasm, but Spike didn't open his eyes.
"Spike?" Angel called out desperately, "Spike?" He could feel the little vampire's hand clasped in his own growing hot and then suddenly very cold again. "Spike? What's going on?"
"Your demon magic won't help you, vampire." The shadows yelled, "Nothing can save you now. You will not be redeemed; you will die as we did."
"Demon magic?" Angel mumbled confused. The shadows we're consuming him, he was going to fall unconscious, "Spike," he whispered, "Spike it's ok. I'm here."The shadows loomed above him, laughing maliciously. They were coming in for the kill.
Then there was light; glorious heavenly light. It flooded the room; huge beams of hot white light spilling in through the door destroying the shadows. The dark spectres screamed and wailed, but they could do nothing to fight the glow that was pouring in through the broken doors. Their dark bodies dissipated, their vengeful voices faded.
"Sunlight." Angel mused. The shadows were gone, but he and Spike would burn in seconds. The sunlight had saved them only to condemn them once more. He struggled desperately to help Spike somehow; he had to protect the little vampire from burning under the sunlight. But he couldn't find the strength to move.
"Angel," it was Wesley. Angel looked slowly towards the door, squinting past the streaming light. He could just see Wes and Fred, and Spike's little friend Matilda, framed in the doorway. They where holding something in each of their hands--Torches; big, bright torches. It wasn't sunlight after all, it was torch light that had saved them.
"Wesley," Angel said gratefully. The watcher walked carefully into the office, shining his torch in the corners to be sure the shadows where well and truly gone. "Great timing," the vampire said, sitting painfully up.
"We-we brought torches," Tilly shouted to Angel from the safe distance of the doorway.
Angel smiled gratefully at his friends. "Thanks. Good idea."
"Are you hurt?" Wesley asked.
"No, but… Spike…" Angel tried to find the words, still recovering from the shadow's attacks, "we have to get Spike to the hospital."
"Why?" Fred gasped, "Were we too late? Is he… he's gonna be ok right?"
"I don't know," Angel said, "He just - he fainted- then he was really hot, and then cold. And he won't wake up- I don't know what's happening to him."
"I do," said Wesley, "He's growing up."
They were gathered in the same hospital room they had been in almost three months before; Wesley, Fred and Angel. Tilly was with them this time, standing with Fred's arms around her, holding Wesley's hand. Angel was on the other side of the bed, sitting in the same chair he had sat in last time, watching the small blond vampire sleep, as he had done so long ago. Spike's makeshift family waited around his bed, looking on worriedly at the little vampire they had come to love.
It had seemed like such a curse when it happened; this little demon child thrust into the vampire's hands. Angel had resented him, been angry with him, maybe even hated him a little for causing all this trouble. Still, he had taken Spike in, because some part of him wanted this son to love. And he did love Spike. It was impossible not to. Which was, by fate's cruel conditions, why Spike had to grow up.
Lying in the hospital bed, the white sheets tucked up under his little pale chin; he looked so helpless. So loveable. So untroubled. Why couldn't it stay like this?
"Did…did the Doctor say how long it would take?" Angel asked slowly.
Wesley shook his head, "He described it as a very fast process, perhaps five or ten minutes."
"What's happening now?" Asked Fred. "He's still all little… shouldn't he… do something?"
"Spike's body is gathering the strength it needs to grow." Wes explained, "that's why he's asleep. It will be a few hours probably, before his body is ready."
The group was silent, all eyes on Spike. Everyone in the room had grown to love the little child and now he was being taken from all of them. It didn't seem fair, that they could all be so happy one minute, and the next minute, all be so sad. They would all be so much happier if Spike stayed a child, but that wasn't fair on him. He had to grow up; they had to let him go.
"Will it hurt?" Tilly asked finally.
"No," Wesley assured her. "It will be painless. He probably won't even remember."
"Will he remember us?" Tilly asked.
"I don't know." The watcher answered quietly.
Fred took a shuddering breath in, trying to push back her tears. Wesley gave her a reassuring kiss, and Tilly squeezed her hand, "It's ok Aunty Fred." She said.
"Sorry" she sniffed, "look at me, all teary eyed like he's dying or something."
"It feels like he is." Angel said quietly.
"He's not," Wesley said firmly.
Angel sighed, "I don't want to lose him, not again."
"Do you think he knows? That we love him?" Fred asked after another silent pause.
"I'm sure he does." Wesley said.
"I-I don't want him to grow up not knowing that we all love him." She whispered, through her silent tears. She tip-toed over to Spike, leaning down carefully to whisper in his ear, "Spike," she whispered to the sleeping boy, "I love you."
Tilly scurried over to the bed as well, "Spike, I love you too." She said, "but not in a cooties way!" she added hurriedly, "I just… I love you. A-and when you grow up, you can come find me and we'll fight ninja's together ok?"
Wesley put an arm around Fred's shoulders and offered his other arm to Tilly. He gave Fred a comforting kiss on the forehead. "Thankyou Spike," he said, as he absently patted Tilly's dark grey hair. "It has been… quite the experience knowing you like this."
All eyes moved to the ancient vampire, sitting stoically in his chair. He held Spike's little hand in his own, watching almost mournfully. "Spike," Angel said quietly. "I love you." He sighed, wanting to say more. There weren't any words to say it with. "Just- just don't forget that. Ever. I will always love you."
The little family was silent, all huddled around the bed of the vampire child who had changed their lives so much; waiting for him to grow up and leave them all.
"Is that enough?" Tilly asked. "Does he know we love him?"
"Yes," Fred said, kissing Tilly softly on the head, "I'm sure he does."
"What will happen when he grows up?" Tilly asked.
Angel wondered the same thing.
Angel sat alone in his office, staring at a piece of A4 paper.
Spike had returned to his normal size and age without incident at about 10 O'clock that evening. The first thing he had done was ask for his duster and a pack of cigarettes.
It had been very awkward. Spike was angry and groggy and he had soon yelled at them all to "leave him the hell alone". Dr Mordred said he would talk to Spike, explain his condition. Fred and Wesley took Matilda home with them. Angel returned to his office.
It was now 11:53
He wondered where Spike was now. For the last three months, Spike had hardly left his sight, had been completely under the older vampire's care. Now he was grown up again. He could go where he liked, he could do what he liked. He was back to hating his grandsire.
The days of paint wars and fighting ninja's were over. For a moment, existence had been worth existing in, but for Angel, it was back to brooding through his un-life.
Angel looked down at the piece of paper clasped in his hands. It was a picture Spike had painted that morning with Fred. Spike had smeared the page with thick black paint. All over were little white stars. Spike's tiny finger prints were left in the paint where he had pressed each spot onto the paper; impressions in the white stars that would last forever. At the bottom, there were two figures, Spike, and Angel.
His contemplation was interrupted suddenly, by an all to familiar voice. "Oy, Angel are you—here?" Spike called, saying the last word more quietly as he waked into the office and found that Angel was indeed "here"
"Spike," Angel said, standing slowly, "Hi."
"Yeah, hi," the younger vampire said. They stood at opposite ends of the office facing each other for a long while. Spike looked vaguely lost, as if he had forgotten why he had come, or changed his mind about it. Angel was almost expressionless as usual, though his eyes were nervous. "You know what?" Spike said tersely heading for the door, "Stuff this. Don't know why I sodding well came."
"Wait Spike-" Angel said.
"Wait what?" He snapped.
"I-I think we should…talk… about this." Angel said.
"Talk about what?" Spike retorted sharply, "Talk about how you played happy families for the last three months and used me in your father-hood fantasies? No, I don't think I want to talk. I want to have a good strong drink and bloody well repress it all."
"Spike!" Angel barked. He was back to his usual rivalry and anger toward Spike, and he hated it, "That's not what it was like."
"What was it like?"
"It was… I-I cared about you Spike." Spike scoffed. "Look, I'm trying to talk to you Spike and you're making it very difficult for me!"
"Difficult?" Spike seethed, "Try living as a defenceless snot nosed kid for three months. Try not knowing how to read or tie your shoelaces. Try looking up to you like you're some soddin'… hero. That's difficult"
"Spike, just grow up!" Angel said through gritted teeth, "Can't we have a sensible adult conversation for five minutes; without you acting like a child?!"
He smirked maliciously at Angel, saying slyly, "I thought you liked me better as I child."
"I did." Angel seethed, "I liked you a lot as a child. I loved you. You were all I cared about. You made me happy." He dropped his voice low, anger bubbling in his voice "But those times are over, as you've just proven to me. You're the same annoying brat you were three months ago."
"Fine," Spike said, "Fine then. I'm leaving, does that make you happy?" He stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Almost immediately, he opened it again. "Do you know…why I came to see you?" he asked. He wasn't the angry-brat-Spike who had slammed the door moments before though, when he spoke, he looked tired and smaller somehow. "No, 'course you don't. I came to say- "thank you". For looking after me an tuckin' me into bed and tellin' me bedtime stories." His tone was softer now, completely devoid of his previous venom. "I was defenceless and well… you know… little. And you looked after me. So I just wanted to say, thanks." He said the last word so soberly he seemed to surprise himself. "Ok, so… I'll leave now."
"Spike," Angel called him back for the second time that evening, "I…um…you're welcome." He said. Angel raised his eyes to look at Spike. They looked at each other for a long while, the anger subsiding and being replaced by awkwardness and uncertainty. Angel didn't know how this was going to work. He didn't know how they were supposed to act anymore. "How's this gonna work, Spike?" He asked. "The last three months meant so much to me, you meant so much to me. Is there some way… we can not lose that?"
"I don't know" Spike said uncertainly, "But, I don't wanna kill you any more, Peaches, that's a start right?"
"Yeah," Angel said, knowing Spike not wanting to kill him was a pretty big deal, "that's a start."
"I see you-uh- got my picture." Spike said, pointing to the painting in Angel's hands.
"Um-yeah." Angel said, "Thanks."
"It's the sky-at night." Spike explained superfluously, "it's supposed to remind you of the good times-the fun we had-dancing under the stars and all. You can just throw it out." Spike said, reaching for the picture to dispose of it himself.
"No-" Angel snatched it away, "I mean-no, I was going to stick it up on the wall. To remind me of the good times," he said pointedly, "the fun we had."
"Great," Spike smiled, "I mean, yeah. Ok." He corrected himself, the latter in his usual badass tone. He smiled and Angel felt that there might be hope after all. A new kind of truce was forming between them. "I'm gonna go find Fred." Spike said, pointing over his shoulder at the door, "Thank her for being my aunt and all. I'll have to see if she'll kiss me so often now I'm big again."
"Good," Angel agreed uncertainly, "Yeah, best to go… see Fred." He didn't want Spike to leave, but he couldn't very well make him stay.
"I'll come back after?" Spike suggested. "to see where you put my painting. As the artist I should check that you're not displaying it in a way that wrecks my creative vision."
"Great," agreed Angel, "I'd like that."
"See you later then, Peaches," Spike said.
"Stay out of trouble." Angel said almost instinctively. He wished he hadn't. It sounded so fatherly and he didn't want to aggravate the delicate situation further.
Spike stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Angel smiling his most devilish smile, "You know I won't" he said, before sauntering out of the office.
That was how it was going to be, Angel thought. That was ok.