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Snow crunched beneath Spike's boots as he hunted in the thick forest, high in the Rockies. What little breath he had exited in tiny plumes of white fog. Snow fell silently around him, thick, wide flakes that clung to the vampire's skin and hair, making him appear even more ghostly white then usual.
He paused, then whirled, rifle coming up against his shoulder as he fired off a shot, and a yelp exploded into the night as the wolf that had been tensed to spring at him caught a bullet right in the chest.
Spike lowered his rifle, features hardening as he approached the downed animal, it's pitious whimpers almost heart-breaking to hear. Spike stopped a few feet away, holding his rifle loosely as he watched the animal twist and snarl at him, trying to drag himself back up, and Spike brought the rifle back up, and fired off another shot, this time, straight into the animal's eye.
The sound of howling filled the night, and Spike glanced around the dark forest, then let out snarled out a challenge, then slung his rifle over his shoulder, then picked up the dead wolf and trotted back towards the campsite, where the others were waiting for him, the sound of panting and short, gruff growls dogging him.
He picked up his pace as the wolves followed him, catching glimpses out of the pack through the trees on either side of him, but none of them attempted to attack him, Flagg's point being made.
He was watching them, just as the wolves would watch them till they came out of the mountains.
They veered off when the golden light of the fire broke through the darkness, and Spike found himself breathing a sigh of relief as he entered the small campsite, seeing the three mortals huddled around the fire, trying to keep warm in the cold, mountain air.
Buffy looked up, eyes widening slightly as he dropped the dead wolf by the fire, and the snow in Spike's hair began to melt as the fire's warmth touched him. "Another one?"
"They're gettin' bolder," He told her quietly, "No one is to go into the woods alone from now on...stay close to the fire. They're shunning the light."
Willow looked at the dead beast mournfully, reaching out a gloved hand to stroke it's soft fur, but Xander only removed a hunting knife from his pocket and handing it to Spike.
Spike slit the animal's throat, allowing the blood to drain into a large pot, then looked up as he began to slice away the thick, fur coat, "Where's Peaches?"
"In the tent," Buffy replied, "He said he was resting for his watch..."
Spike nodded, then poured half the blood into a thermos, then straightened, "Harris, you can get dinner started all right?"
"Yeah, sure," Xander picked up the discarded knife, then started to cut chunks of meat out off of the wolf as Willow turned away, slightly sickly, and Buffy stared into the fire, a worried frown marring her face.
"Oi! Peaches!" Spike kicked Angel's side, and the dark-haired vampire groaned as he rolled onto his back, and Spike winced when he saw Angel's face, and knelt beside him, his manner become insantly more gently. "I brought some blood...eat up while it's still warm," He told his Sire quietly, and Angel muffled a cough with his glove as he sat up, taking the thermos from Spike gratefully.
"Thanks," His voice was raspy and his voice cracked as he started to cough again.
"Don't mention it," Spike frowned as he felt along Angel's throat, shaking his head, "Lymph nodes have started to swell..."
"Yeah...having trouble talking," Angel told him, closing his eyes as Spike's hands moved along his throat. As soon as the blood hit his stomach, he had trouble keeping it down, and he started to gag.
Spike immediately tilted his Sire's head back, "You fight it, Peaches...that's all you're bloody getting, and I don't fancy washing blood out of your goddamned sleeping bag," He said harshly, trying to mask the concern that he was feeling, but Angel glanced at him through half-lidded eyes, the worry very evident on Spike's face.
It had the desired effect, however, and Angel managed to keep his blood down...for now, and Spike released his head, crouching down on balls of his feet.
Angel closed his eyes, wheezing heavily, though he didn't need to breath, "Will...it's gettin' worse...don't know how much longer I can hide it from the others..."
Spike didn't answer him, only glancing towards the front of the tent, where he could see Willow, Buffy and Xander around the fire, talking and laughing a tiny bit as they cooked the meat Spike had brought.
"You said...you would make it fast..."
Spike looked towards Angel, inhaling sharply, feeling a tendril of fear curl around him. He couldn't do this alone...he couldn't take care of a bunch of mortals, not alone. "I...Angelus..."
Angel reached out, and placed his hand on the back of Spike's neck and drew him towards him, faces close enough to touch, and Angel gently brushed his lips against Spike's, closing his eyes again as he rested his forehead against Spike's tiredly.
Spike felt his body start to shudder, and he shut his eyes tightly against the tears that wanted to come, and he inhaled a large lungful of air. "At the end...Dru...she was askin' for you...wanted to know where her...daddy was. Started screamin' at me...that I made you go away...that I always made you go away..." Spike lifted his head slightly, tears of blood shining in his eyes.
"Christ...how I fuckin' hated you...I was ALWAYS there for her! I was the one that was with her when she died...but all she wanted was you...always you..."
Angel averted his eyes, pained by his Childe's words, and he shook his head slightly, "I'm sorry, Spike...I know you loved her..."
"Damn right I loved her. All I ever knew was lovin' her...and I cursed your name...wished that you would die...wished you into nothing more then a pile of soddin' dust..." Spike pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes as his shoulders shook with barely repressed emotions, and then he raked his hands through his hair, making the gelled strands stand a bit on end. "I can't do this...I can't lose you again...not like this..."
Angel looked at Spike in surprise as the younger vampire began to cry, then wrapped his arms around him, pulling the blond against his chest, holding him tightly.
"You can do this, Will," Angel told him quietly, "You're strong...always been strong. And I am...and always have been proud of you...proud of the way you took care of Dru after I left...how you never abadoned her. Proud of your ability to love her, despite all that she was...and I'm sorry that I ever hurt you...that I ever made you hate me..."
Spike sobbed, burying his face against Angel's throat, inwardly cringing at showing his Sire such weakness, but he was unable to help it. For all that Angel and Angelus had done to him...he was still his Sire, his father, his lover...and he couldn't stand to lose the last of his family, leaving him alone in the world.
"I'm so proud of you, m'boy..." Angel whispered in Spike's ear, "You were always my favorite Childe...and I'm trusting you with my entire life..."
Spike slowly lifted his head, looking up at Angel, "Huh?"
Angel smiled wanly as he stroked Spike's hair affectionatly, regretful that it had taken this to bring his Childe back where he belonged, "They look up to you, you know," Angel tilted his head towards the mouth of the tent.
Spike followed the gesture, looking out towards Buffy, Xander and Willow, shaking his head, "I...don't know if I can do this anymore..."
"I saw you, Spike...I know you care for Buffy..."
Spike ducked his head, and Angel smiled a tiny bit, "I need you to watch out for her, Spike...her and the others. I need you to stay with them...just like you stayed with Dru...I need you to be strong and get across the desert with them. I need you to get them somewhere safe..."
Spike lowered his head, his gaze sliding away from Angel, "I can't do it...I thought...I could...thought I'd enjoy it...but..."
"I don't want Xander to do it, Will...he'd like it too much...and you already said you don't want Buffy too...Will, you're my Childe...I love you...and I'd rather you then anyone else..."
Slowly, Spike nodded, and then he shoved away from Angel, slipping outside of the tent. The kids huddled around the campfire looked up as Spike grabbed his rifle before racing into the woods, and Angel closed his eyes, feeling his Childe's pain throbbing through him.
"What happened?" Willow asked in a soft voice as she watched Spike disappear into the forest, and Xander rubbed his arms as he stared intently into the fire.
Buffy could only shake her head in confusion, "Did they have another fight?"
"He was crying," Xander replied almost beneath his breath, and Buffy looked towards him.
"What?"
"Spike...he was crying..." Xander looked up at Buffy levelly, his eyes slightly moist, "You should go see Angel."
"What? Why?"
Xander didn't answer her as he turned his gaze back into the fire, "Spike and I can crash in Will's tent tonight..."
Buffy frowned, confused, but she got to her feet and headed towards the tent, then froze midway when her slightly heightened hearing picked up the sound of a muffled, watery cough.
Angel looked up, startled when Buffy burst in the tent, the anger coming off her palatable, "How long?!"
"Wha--?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Angel! How long have you been sick?!"
Angel closed his eyes, sighing deeply, "A few days now...did Spike...?"
"No, Xander told me...sort of..." Buffy found her knees couldn't support her any longer, and she sat down on the ground, cushioned only by the sleeping bags. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Angel shook his head slightly, "I didn't want you to worry," He told her quietly, being partially the truth. "That's why I wasn't dreaming like the rest of you. I was never immune. It just took me longer to get sick," He smiled wryly, "Must be my sturdy Irish heritage."
Buffy rolled her eyes at him, but tears were already making the expressive orbs shine with a fine sheen. "Angel..."
"Shh..." Angel tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, leaning forward to kiss her gently, "Don't cry, my love..."
Angel stared up at the fabric of the tent, toying absently with a strand of Buffy's hair as the girl lay cradled against his side, her warm, bare flesh pressing against his. Her head was lying on his chest, her warm breath fanning out across his skin, and he inhaled her scent deeply, committing it to memory.
Slowly, night seeped into an overcast dawn as the snow continued to fall, leaving the tent bathed in darkness, offering it a kind of quiet solitude that he relished.
The scent of the dawn was sharp and fresh in his nostrils, and he instinctively tightened his hold on Buffy as the sound of quiet footfalls distrubed the silence.
The footsteps stopped outside the tent, and Angel gently disentangled himself from Buffy's still form, and tenderely covered her body with the sleeping bag, watching as she snuggled down into them, murmuring something too quiet to hear.
He took a few moments to watch her sleeping, feeling his chest constrict before pulling on his clothes, careful not to disturb her, and then removed the Claddagh ring from his finger and pressing his lips to it before lying it beside the sleeping Slayer. Just once...I wish you could have woken up beside me...he thought mournfully.
He unzipped the tent slowly and carefully, then stepped outside into the bitingly cold morning, looking up at the black clad figure standing beside the tent, a cigarrette hanging between his full lips.
He re-zipped the tent, then straightened, taking a deep breath of the sharp, mountain air before looking towards the man at his side, looking him over carefully.
Spike's face was slightly gaunt, his eyes red-rimmed and his lips were thoroughly chewed upon. His hair stood on end from having his hand run through it constantly, and his chipped, black fingernails were bitten to the quick.
"You didn't sleep," Angel said matter-of-factly as he started to stride in front of Spike, careful the sound of his boots breaking the frozen top crust of the snow did not awaken the slumbering mortals.
"Had a few things to take care of," The blond replied listlessly, eyes on his feet as he shuffled after Angel, his nostrils flaring slightly as he picked up the intermingled scents of Buffy and his Sire.
Angel watched knowingly as Spike's head shot up as they entered the woods together. "Ironic, really..." Angel said softly, "Finally find out my soul's not going anywhere...and now..."
"Don't," Spike's voice was strained, "Just...don't, Angel..."
The pair of vampires lapsed into silence, the only sound disturbing the morning the sound of their feet sinking into the snow. Even the wolves were silent.
Spike kept his eyes on the ground as he fingered something in his duster pocket.
Angel looked upwards into the gray, dismal sky, large, soft snowflakes pelting his face, and he sucked in a lungful of hair, the scent of pine and then sulfur as Spike struck a match, then cigarrette smoke curling into the air.
He suddenly bent over double as a fit of coughing overtook him. He stumbled on a stone submerged in the snow, and he landed on his hands and knees, fighting to draw in breath that was only exhaled in explosive, painful, racking coughs.
He felt Spike's hand on his back as his Childe knelt by him, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears of pain that sprang to his eyes. "Peaches...?" Spike's voice had none of the mocking it usually held when he addressed the older vampire by that name, and Angel shook his head as he forced himself back to his feet, and leaned against a tree, taking great, painful breaths that burned his abused throat.
Soon, he had composed himself, and he turned his gaze on Spike, who was standing with his shoulders slumped, hands shoved in his duster pockets, and face turned towards the ground.
Angel smiled as he pushed himself away from the tree, then reached out to cup Spike's chin, forcing his gaze to meet his, "Will...you know you'll always be my boy, right?"
"Don't..."
"Right?" Angel was insistant, and his grip on Spike's chin tightened somewhat when he felt nausea making his insides churn, but he staved it off for a few moments longer.
I can't do this...Spike yanked himself out of Angel's grasp with an angry snarl, glaring at the dark-haired vampire, "I hate you for this!"
Angel regarded him mournfully, hurt flashing across his face, and Spike let out another snarl before grabbing Angel's shoulders forcefully, and smashing his lips against his Sire's.
Angel wrapped his arms around Spike, pulling him closer, the taste of blood and smoke coating his tongue as he kissed his Childe lovingly, and after several minutes, Spike pulled away, resting his forehead against Angel's as he met the older vampire's gaze squarely, "I love you," He said softly, and Angel's smile filled his vision.
Angel's eyes suddenly widened, but the smile never left his face, allowing that to be the last thing Spike saw before his flesh turned to dust in an outward explosion, his bones following scant seconds later.
Spike slowly lowered his arm, stake held limply in his hand, and he took a few steps back from the ashes littering the pure whiteness of the snow, and then, squeezing his eyes shut, he threw his head back and let out an animalistic howl.
Buffy smiled in her sleep as she started to reach out for Angel, and the Slayer frowned a tiny bit, opening her eyes groggily when her hand closed on nothing but air. She rolled onto her back, pulling the covers up to her chin as she tried to force her mind to wake up with the rest of her body.
'Angel...are you sure...your soul...?'
'Shh...it's all right, Buffy...everything's going to be fine...I promise, it'll be all right...'
It seemed like a dream, now, in the light of day...a dream that finally allowed her and Angel to be together...to join together as they were always meant to do, but were afraid to do because of his soul.
She felt a tendril of fear curl around her slowly waking mind, remembering vividly the last time she had awoken alone, and she sat up, running a hand through her hair, then smiled when she saw the Claddagh ring lying on the covers. She picked it up and slipped it over her thumb after pressing it lovingly against her lips.
'How long till...?'
'Probably not long, my love...' He smiled at her sadly, fingertips brushing along her face, 'I'm sorry...I thought I was immune.'
'I love you, Buffy...more then anything in the world...and it kills me inside...to know that I won't be able to look at your sweet face anymore...even in my dreams...but I love you...and I wished that we had more time in the world...'
Buffy shook off her thoughts as she slowly began to pull her clothes on, then tensed involuntarily when a howl ripped through the silence of the morning. She finished dressing hurriedly.
She frowned as she came outside the tent, looking down at the two pairs of footprints in the snow, leading towards the woods, then looked towards Willow's tent as she and Xander came out, their breath fogging out in front of them, and Willow shivered, buttoning her jacket firmly.
"Is Spike with you guys?"
"No, he didn't come in last night," Xander said, heading towards the dead fire to try and start another one, "I figured he stayed on watch all night again..."
"Oh God..." Buffy nearly collapsed right then and there as she looked towards the woods, seeing a slumped, dejected figure making his way out, white blond hair seeming to blend in with the colorless landscape surrounding him.
It was Spike...and he was alone...carrying a stake limply in his hand.
Buffy felt something explode inside her, and she launched herself across the campsite at the blond vampire, and Spike lifted his head as Buffy slammed into him, and he closed his eyes, doing nothing to stop the barrage of blows and curses she leveled on him.
He welcomed the pain, actually.
He collapsed to his knees when Buffy punched him with all her strength in the abdomen, his head whipping to the side with her backhand, and he felt his cheek split open against one of his fangs, and he dimly realized that he had gone into game face without knowing it.
"BUFFY!" Xander tried to drag Buffy off the already beaten vampire, but she shoved Xander away from him.
"You killed him! You son of a bitch! You KILLED him!"
Spike bowed his head as she rained blows down on his head and shoulders, spitting onto the snow, crimson staining the purity of the substance. Tears were dripping from his eyes, but he wasn't sure if they were from the physical pain of Buffy's attack on him, or Angel's death.
He lifted his head when her blows lessened a bit, and she sucked in a lungful of air with a hiccuping sob.
She stared down at his bruised, battered face, streaked with blood from his tears, and from a cut in his forehead from when the ring on her thumb had split open his skin.
He slowly pushed himself to his feet, wincing when he felt his ribs grind together unnaturally. Several of them were broken from the feel of things, and he spat out some more blood.
Buffy was starting to calm down, and she drew in breath raggadly, her face flushed from exertation, and her being starting to fill with a odd sort of horror as Spike gave a sharp cry and gripped his ribs.
"Oh God...Spik--" She started to reach for him, but he moved away from her with a pained hiss, and she chewed on her bottom lip as he ignored her, hoarsely addressing Willow and Xander.
"We'll...have to camp here tonight."
Xander nodded, and Buffy sank to her knees in the snow, and Willow hurried to her best friend's side as she began to sob in earnest, her face buried in her hands.
Spike started to limp towards the tent Buffy and Angel had stayed in the night before, closing his eyes against the sound of the Slayer's mourning wails.
Can't do this...I can't...bloody well...do this...
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