RockStarPeach

Okay, so this is the continuation of the little ficlet I posted yesterday, Scenes From A Life.

I'm calling it a good day, cause, well, it's better than being dust!

Title:  After Life  
Pairing:  Spike/Angel (kind of), Spike/Giles (kind of)
Rating:  PG
Summary:  Spike's plans get interrupted and he thinks about what to do next

 

After Life

 

He had been there for hours.  The sun was less than half an hour away now.  He could feel it.  Only 30 minutes and he wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore.  He had been a good little vamp lately.  Saved lives, helped little old ladies across the street, ate his vegetables.  Maybe he’d get lucky and go to the same place he was sure Rupert had.

 

He wasn’t counting on it, but anything had to better than this.  He reached forward then and wrapped his arms around the gravestone, leaning his cheek on the smooth marble, silently telling Rupert that he was coming, soon.  That’s when he felt him.  The other him.  The one that had always been the other one, for his entire eternity.

 

Angel.

 

Spike hadn’t seen Angel since he had left LA over thirty years ago.  He heard what had happened to everyone just months after he left.  Heard about the battle and the losses and cursed Angel for leading his friends into all that and being the only one to come out alright.  He had cried for them all; Percy and Fred and Gunn, and had blamed Angel, refusing any contact with him over the years.

 

Angel had respected Spike’s decision, up until now.  He knew what Spike was planning to do, had known what he would be planning since Angel found out about Giles’ death over 24 hours ago.  He had come as soon as he heard, not entirely understanding why.

 

If Spike wanted to end himself, no matter how much it would hurt Angel to suffer yet another loss, Angel would have to respect that, just as he had all of Spike’s recent decisions.  And if Spike died now, it would be a loss to Angel, even if Spike didn’t see it that way.

 

He had been alone since the attack on Wolfram and Hart.  Everyone he had loved had died, or left, and he hadn’t bothered to make new friends, knowing he’d only have to watch them leave him too one day, one way or another, and he was sure he couldn’t have handled that.

 

Spike was all he had left, and even though Spike hated him, or thought he did, Angel couldn’t stand to lose him too.  If he did, he would truly be alone.

 

“What the hell are you doin’ here, ponce?” Spike croaked out, voice hoarse from crying, as he pulled back from the headstone and stood up on wobbly legs.

 

“I came to pay my respects.”  I came to see you.

 

Spike let out a small hiccup of laughter, and placed his hand on the stone before turning slightly so that he could look at Angel.  “Respect.  Funny Angel.  You never respected him.  Only used him when it suited you and ignored him the rest of the time.”

Angel opened his mouth to respond, but Spike cut him off.  “When was the last time you saw him?  Or even talked to him?  Or any of us for that matter?”

 

Spike was right, it had been a while.  It wasn’t as if Angel hadn’t tried though.  But every phone call went unanswered, every letter sent back unopened, and finally Angel had given up, accepting that Spike didn’t want any contact with him.  But Angel didn’t think it was the right time to point all this out.

 

“I thought about you every day,” he offered, hoping it would make up a little for not being there, even though they both knew that had been Spike’s decision. 

 

“I’m not the one lying dead in the ground Angel!  When was the last time you thought about Rupert?”

 

It threw Angel a little to hear Spike refer to Giles by his first name, but he knew it shouldn’t have.  They had been lovers after all, so what did he expect? 

 

“I don’t think about him much,” Angel admitted, and took a few slow steps in Spike’s direction.  “We were never friends.  The only thing we ever really meant to each other was another possible resource.  But he was kind, and good, and I’m sorry he’s gone.  I’m sorry for his friends and the council, and I’m sorry for you.”

 

“Don’t need your sodding sympathy,” Spike groused as he pushed off the stone with his hand, turning to fully face Angel and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Be joinin’ him soon enough.”  Spike cast an eye to the horizon and warned, “you too if you don’t get inside.”

 

Angel took another step closer to Spike.  “If this is really what you want, Spike, I’m not going to stop you.  But think about how many people you’ll be hurting if you leave them the way Giles left you.  Think about the slayers, think about your friends…. Think about me,” he finished quietly.

 

Angel was almost close enough to touch now, and Spike was buzzing with the proximity.  He brain was telling him to hurt.  Punch, kick, stake… anything to get Angel to hurt like he was and get him to leave him alone.  His heart was telling him something else.

 

Angel had always been there.  Even in the long periods of time throughout their history when they weren’t talking, or trying to kill each other or any sort of other nonsense, Angel was always there.  That thought had been a constant comfort to Spike, and even as he had moments ago prepared to join his lover in eternity, he had been thinking in the back of his mind about Angel, and had been happy that Angel would still go on.

 

With Angel’s last words Spike thought for the first time about what Angel would feel, knowing Spike wasn’t there anymore, and let himself believe that it would be even a fraction as heartbreaking as it would be for Spike, if Angel was gone.

 

Of course, Spike would dance a fuckin’ jig right now if Angel could be dead in Rupert’s place, but whether his lover was alive or dead, Angel being gone… would hurt.

 

Angel could sense Spike’s inner conflict, but tried not to get too excited just yet.  He needed to be clam and rational with Spike, and maybe lay on the guilt a little more, and perhaps they would both walk out of this cemetery.  He needed to hurry; the sun was only 15 minutes away.

 

Angel invaded Spike’s personal space then, placing a hand on his arm, gently rubbing it up and down.  “Don’t leave me Spike.  You’re all I’ve got left.  Even when you weren’t with me, knowing you were okay kept me sane, but if you go… just... don’t.”

 

A part of Spike thought that if he hadn’t been planning to kill himself, that plea would have been enough.  He wanted to punish Angel; hurt him and break his heart, and if he had to kill himself to do it, that would be a small price.  But another part, a bigger part, admitted that Angel’s happiness was important to him in some fucked up way.

 

Angel had nobody, and anyone Spike had only reminded him of something he didn’t want to be reminded of just now.  Maybe he and Angel could be good for each other.  Maybe they could leave England, and fight evil somewhere else.  Maybe they could help each other cope, get along, or pretend to get along, or at the very least not try to kill each other.  Maybe now, they were finally on even ground, without any other bullshit to get in the way.

 

Spike was about to decide not to die, to go with Angel.  He was about to decide that it would make Rupert happy, knowing that Spike was continuing a fight that they had both lived for, and knowing Spike had some company that could understand him.  He was about to suggest they get into the van that Angel had driven up in… when Angel kissed him.

 

Spike was so shocked at first he didn’t even try to fight it, tripping over his own feet as he unconsciously moved backwards, backside falling on the top of Rupert Giles’ headstone. 

 

Then his shock faded and all he could feel was a long repressed desire, and he responded to the kiss eagerly.  Angel was kissing him.  Angel, who he had loved in one way or another since the day they met, Angel who had always blown him off, Angel who he had never been good enough for, with the exception of a quick fuck back in the bad old days.

 

Then the headstone dug into him, making him uncomfortably aware of their location, and exactly what they were doing, and he growled and pushed Angel away from him, standing up straight.

 

“Wot the fuck do you think you’re doin’?!” Spike almost screamed.

 

Angel wondered the same thing.  He hadn’t intended that.  He was only trying to let Spike know how much he would be missed, and the next thing he knew he had the other vampire in a lip lock.  “I…”

 

Spike stomped the ground hard with his booted foot.  “My lover is under there Angel.  My bloody reason for being.  And all you can think about is getting a leg over?”

 

“Spike. No,” Angel protested.  “I didn’t mean to do that.  I just…”  I just missed you so much, and it was more than I could handle to have you so close again.  I didn’t want to waste any more time pretending that I don’t love you when I do.  I wanted you to know, now, just in case this is the last time I ever see you.

 

Angel stepped back a bit, giving Spike some space.  “Come with me.  I want you to.  You want to.  Giles would want you to.  We can start again, together.  Help people.  And this,” he gestured between them, indicating the aborted kiss, “doesn’t have to be part of it.”

 

Spike took a step closer to Angel now.  “It doesn’t?”

 

“It doesn’t have to,” Angel repeated, but they could both hear the hope in his voice that it one day might.

 

“You’d only be disappointed.  You’re not him, and I’ll never be able to give to you what I did to...” Spike trailed off, unable to say the name around the lump in his throat.

 

“No.  You’ll give me something different, and it won’t be any less for that difference.  And whatever it turns into won’t matter, because I’ll know how you feel, and now, you’ll know how I feel.  Even ground Spike.  We’ll be equals.”

 

Angel felt the first tingles of the approaching dawn on his skin and knew then that he would not be leaving the cemetery without Spike.  He took a step back, toward the van, and held out a hand to Spike and with a lopsided smile made an offer he knew Spike couldn’t resist.  “Let’s be heroes.”

 

Spike returned the half smile, and turned back to pick up his duster and ghost his fingers over the monument to his love.  “Turns out I’m not quite done with this yet pet,” he said, slipping on his coat.  “But don’t you go forgettin’ about be.  We’ll be together again one day baby.  I promise.”

 

He let one more tear fall before he sucked in a strong breath and faced Angel, placing one of his hands in the offered one.

 

Angel squeezed the hand, and closed his eyes and they both felt a fire start.  Whether from the sun or the touch, they couldn’t have said, but they broke out in a run toward the shelter of the van on the road. 

 

Angel opened the sliding door and jumped in, Spike following and pulling the door shut behind him.  They ended up in a heap in the floor, Spike on top of Angel, and the older vampire remained very still, waiting to see what Spike would do.  It wouldn’t take much at this point for the blond to open the door and step out into the light like he had planned.

 

“Don’t worry mate,” Spike said, sensing Angel’s apprehension.  “You’re stuck with me for a while.”  He tried to answer with as much humour as he could muster given the circumstances, and Angel was grateful for the effort. 

 

Spike adjusted his weight to roll off of Angel, but was caught around the waist by an arm, and his movement was prevented.  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

“Just… I want you to know…” Angel said, and broke off to pull Spike’s face down into another kiss. 

 

Spike responded eagerly.  For long minutes they were both lost in the feel of a body they feared they’d never again know, touching and rubbing and pushing, but eventually Spike pulled back with a sad smile and sat up. 

 

He turned and looked out the window, back to Rupert’s grave and said nothing for a while.  Eventually Angel came up behind him, and wrapped an arm around his waist, placing his head on Spike’s shoulder.  “I know I can never replace him Spike.  And I’m not going to try.”

 

Spike seemed to like the sound of that, if his head leaning just slightly closer to Angel’s was any indication.  “It’s not about substitution, Spike.  It’s about living.”

 

Spike had been enjoying some of the things Angel was saying out on the grass.  Liked the idea of going on, fighting the good fight, having someone there who understood, having Angel back again.  Maybe having a little more… eventually.  But when the thought actually sunk in, it frightened him. 

 

“What if he doesn’t forgive me?” Spike whispered.

 

Angel frowned.  “Forgive you for what?”

 

“For moving on.  For living my life without him.  Being happy without him.  For… you.  For God’s sake Angel, I stuck my tongue down your throat over his soddin’ grave!  How can he forgive me for that?”

 

Angel tightened his hold around Spike’s middle and answered as best he could.  “I don’t think he needs to forgive you Spike.  He would have wanted you to pull yourself together and get on with things.  And if those things include being happy and finding… love, then I’m sure that’s what he would want for you.”

 

Angel could see Spike’s hand twitch as he almost reached for the door handle, but only gentled the movement of his own hand across Spike’s side until he relaxed, and let his hand drop to his side.

 

“As for today, for all of what happened today, you’re grieving.  You’re not thinking straight, and I’m sure that he’ll forgive you.  For kissing me, for wanting to kill me… for wanting to kill yourself.”

 

Spike abruptly turned from the window and made his way to the front of the van, and took his place in the passenger seat, waiting for Angel.  He didn’t wait long as Angel took the hint and got into the driver’s seat, starting up the car, and driving them out of the cemetery.

 

Angel was heading them straight for the airport, not bothering to stop by council headquarters on the way, and Spike was silently thankful for that.

 

They drove for almost an hour in mutual quiet, until Spike spoke.  “Thanks mate.”  And the two short words spoke volumes.

 

END