Chapter Text
They were less than twenty minutes walk from Giles' apartment but the fight had left them both exhausted. In wordless agreement they headed towards the nearest subway station. It was late enough that there were only few other passengers waiting besides them, and when the train arrived on the platform, Giles deliberately picked a car that was empty but for a lonely homeless man sitting at the back. The man was clutching a bottle in a brown paper bag, and he gave them a suspicious glare as they passed him.
Spike kept his distance, waiting until Giles sat down before choosing a seat at the other end of the car. He hadn't said a word since they had left the body behind. Giles let him have his peace and settled for watching him from his own seat.
They'd been travelling just a few minutes when Spike stood up. At first, Giles thought Spike had changed his mind and was coming to sit with him, but instead Spike stalked across the corridor to the homeless man and grabbed his paper bag. There was a scuffle for the bottle that lasted only a second until Spike's face changed and he snarled at the man, baring his fangs. The man let out a weak squeal of terror and and fell off the seat as the paper bag tore and the bottle was snatched from his hands. He cowered on the floor, whimpering, but Spike ignored him, raised the unmarked bottle to his lips and emptied it in one breathless draught. When he was done, he threw the bottle away and it smashed against the wall in an explosion of glass. The homeless man squealed again at the sound and scrambled to his hands and feet, then crawled across the floor, leaving a trail of urine behind as he disappeared into another car.
When Spike turned around to face Giles again, his eyes were still gleaming yellow and his face was the hate-filled mask of a demon. Even over the rumbling of the train, Giles could hear the low growl that rose from the vampire's chest. For a moment he stared right through Giles, but then his eyes focused and he fixed his gaze on him.
"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," Spike whispered, his head tilted to the side as he ran his tongue over the tips of his fangs.
Giles stood up slowly, trying to avoid sudden movements. He felt like he couldn't breathe. There was a heavy band around his chest, tightening on every beat of his heart. Not now, not after everything, that was all he could think. This wasn't the Spike that groused about the quality of American beer and left wet towels on the bath room floor and used tea bags in the living room. Not the Spike whose presence Giles had come to rely on during fights, the Spike who Giles had come to think of not just as an ally but as a friend. And to his surprise, Giles found that as he looked the demon in front of him, he felt more sad than scared.
He realised he was standing in the aisle, holding his stake, but he had no recollection of when he had moved there.
"Spike?"
Spike's lips twitched into a smile, the expression almost mechanical, a mockery of human emotion painted on the face of a demon. He took a step forward, slowly closing the distance between him and Giles.
Giles held his place, his fingers cramping as he clasped his stake. He could feel the floor trembling beneath his feet as the train surged forward in the tunnel, the rumble accompanied by the buzz of the broken tannoy system.
"Stop right there."
Spike's smile widened as he came to a halt just few feet in front of Giles. He held Spike's gaze, trying to find even the smallest hint of humanity in the yellow gleam of his eyes, and failing. There was a change in the motion of the car as the train slowed and came to a stop. The tannoys buzzed again, and the doors slid open. From the corner of his eye Giles could see the empty platform outside.
"This is our stop, Spike," he said carefully, not taking his eyes off the vampire. "Let's go."
Spike didn't move or speak, just continued to stare at Giles with that same inhuman stillness. Giles' stake-hand twitched.
"Sp-"
The doors closed as the train lurched into motion, and for a fraction of a second Giles was distracted, trying to regain his balance in the moving car.
Spike leapt.
Giles had barely time to raise his hands to protect himself as Spike lunged at him like a striking adder, shoving him hard against the wall. A white flash of pain blinded him for a few seconds as his head slammed against the glass. He was aware of the sound of his stake clattering on the floor as it fell from numb fingers, and he blinked, trying to get his vision in focus again, only to see Spike's face mere inches from his. The vampire's fingers gripped the lapels of his shirt, digging painfully into his chest.
"Spike! This isn't you!" He tried to grapple Spike's hands and pull them off him, but it was like trying to move an iron bar.
"Isn't it?" Spike asked, the words hissing through his fangs. "Do you have any idea who I am? What I've done?"
Spike leaned closer, and Giles could feel his shirt tear as Spike's grip tightened on the cloth, could see his own image reflected in the yellow of Spike's eyes.
"Do you?" Spike asked, but this time his voice was nothing but a harsh whisper.
"I don't-," Giles started, but then fell silent again as Spike's face suddenly crumbled into a mask of despair.
It was a strange sight, to see human sadness reflected in the grotesque features of a demon. Giles forgot to be afraid as he stared at tears brimming in yellow eyes. Spike's knees buckled and he fell to the floor, pulling Giles down with him. His head was bowed, hiding his face from Giles, but Giles could still see the tremor in his shoulders as he cried. Spike's hands were still bunched in Giles' shirt, and Giles raised his hand to Spike's and carefully removed the fabric the from his fingers. He then gently wrapped his arms around Spike and pulled the vampire to him. Spike shuddered against him, his breath coming in desperate sobs, and Giles ran his hand down the vampire's back in soothing strokes as he tried to comfort him.
There was a sound from the other end of the subway car and when Giles looked up, he saw a cop standing in the doorway with the homeless man hiding behind him. The cop quickly scanned the car and then gave Giles a stern look.
"What's going on here?"
"I’m sorry," Giles said, pulling Spike closer to better hide his demonic face against his shoulder. "My friend is having a bad trip."
He met the cop's eyes and tried to muster every ounce of properness his upbringing had instilled in him. "I’ll take care of him."
The cop's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. He turned around to talk to the homeless man again. Giles ignored them and simple kept stroking Spike's back until he felt Spike's game face melt back into a human visage. He pulled away from the vampire, and then put his hand under Spike's chin and gently forced him to look up.
"We missed our stop."
Spike stared at him distractedly for a few seconds and then nodded. Giles gave him a reassuring smile and then wrapped his arm around Spike's shoulder and helped him up. As they scrambled back to their feet, the train came to a stop and the doors opened. Giles led them out into the platform before the cop could object.
They walked the rest of the way back in silence. Spike kept his distance again, his coat wrapped tightly around himself as if he wanted to disappear into it. When they reached the apartment, Giles automatically went in and then realised that Spike hadn't followed him. When he turned back, he saw Spike still standing in the corridor, not even trying to come in. It was as if he was afraid that his invitation had been revoked. Giles came back out and gently touched his shoulder.
"Come in, Spike," he said. With the slightest of touches he led Spike inside and sat him down at the kitchen table.
Giles opened the cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, pouring them both a drink. Spike's hands shook as he drank, the tremors carrying across his whole body like ripples in water. Giles watched him for a moment and sat down on his haunches in front of Spike. He wrapped his hands around Spike's hands and took the glass away, and then on a whim, slid his hand behind Spike's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
It was his body that remembered. Ethan guiding him away from Randall’s body and out the back before the police arrived, holding him when the tears came, whisperings soothing words of comfort that Giles now knew to be lies.
"It will all fade away," Ethan had said, and Giles echoed those words to Spike as he stood up again and gently pushed the duster off Spike's shoulders.
The black t-shirt followed, aided by Spike's own hands, and Giles slid his palms across the taut muscles of Spike's chest and stomach all the way and down to his belt. As he unbuttoned Spike's jeans, the vampire's fingers wrapped themselves into the fabric of his shirt again. The already frayed and torn cotton split in half as Spike pulled it apart, and Giles let the scrap of cloth fall off his shoulders.
He cupped Spike's head again and brought their lips together, acutely aware of the touch of Spike's hands now travelling down his sides to undo his belt and the buttons on his jeans. Spike's fingers brushed against his erection and Giles shuddered with pleasure at the strange sensation of the cool flesh against his skin. He let go of Spike and took a step back, his breath coming in harsh pants. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and Giles could see the same question on Spike's face that he assumed was reflected in his own expression.
He nodded, the affirmation just as much for his own benefit as Spike's, and then kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans while Spike did the same.
They made their way to the bedroom in a tumble of limbs, their hands and lips exploring every inch of each other's bodies. The back of Spike's knees hit the edge bed and he fell to the mattress, pulling Giles down with him. Giles began to crawl up Spike's body but Spike stopped him, gripped his arms and gently flipped them over. Giles tensed for the briefest moment, his watcher's reflexes taking control, but when Spike pressed down, grinding their bodies together, Giles arched underneath him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips.
He could feel the caress of Spike's cold breath on his throat. A part of him balked at the touch, but he suppressed the flight-or-flight instinct and bunched his hand in Spike's hair, pulling him closer as Spike's tongue traced a path across down his neck and to his chest. Their movements were growing more frantic by the second, both desperately searching for more friction as they moved against each other. Giles could feel the world grow narrower as the pleasure overtook him until there was nothing left but the touch of skin on skin, just two grieving souls trying to forget, to momentarily cast away the weight of their sins. He closed his eyes as his senses overloaded, and then opened them again, finding Spike's gaze and holding it as he went over the edge.
When Giles woke up the next morning, Spike was gone.
He lay on the bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, as he tried to process what had happened the night before. The Watcher's Academy had prepared him for many things, but post-coital guilt after having sex with a vampire was unfortunately not among them. Vampires were creatures of hate and destruction, incapable of love. That's what the books said. But he couldn't believe them anymore, not after everything he'd seen. He remembered the look on Spike's face after he'd killed the man, and the strange sight of the all-too-human tears brimming in his inhuman eyes. If this was supposed to be the face of a mindless best that felt no remorse... He closed his eyes, rubbing his hands across his face. The books were wrong, he knew it now. The books, the watchers' diaries, everything that the Council had taught him, it was all wrong. He felt almost light-headed by the realisation, weightless and out of balance, like someone had suddenly snatched the rug from under his feet. He could understand their reasons, could see why they would want to paint the world in black and white to make it easier to protect, but he still felt betrayed. He wasn't quite sure what it was that he felt towards Spike, but he could still feel the coils of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach at the thought that he might never have had this - whatever this was - had he blindly followed the Council's teachings.
He lay still for a few more minutes, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat, and then took a deep breath and slid off the bed.
He didn't bother to put on his clothes as he padded to the kitchen naked, trying to listen for any sounds that might tell him where Spike was. The kitchen was just as empty as the rest of the apartment, the bottle of cheap whisky he had left of the table gone as well. Some of the liquid had splattered on the floor, and Giles stared at the puddle for a few seconds, then grabbed his jeans from the floor where he'd cast them the night before and pulled them on.
He followed the spilled liquor like a trail of breadcrumbs out of the apartment, down the hallway, and all the way up to the roof.
Spike was standing on the parapet, protected from the morning light by the shadow the taller buildings still cast. The sun was already high in the sky, though, the light rapidly eating its way through the shade towards the vampire.
When Giles saw Spike, his first instinct was to run to him and pull him to safety, but he restrained himself, and remained rooted to his place, afraid to move lest he frightened Spike.
"Spike? Are you all right?"
Spike didn't answer at first, just continued to stare at the waking city. When he finally spoke, there was a strange, almost dreamy note to his voice.
"I can still hear them sometimes. All those people I killed. Can hear them inside my head. Crying. Begging. Praying. Never thought there'd be that many, never thought…"
He finally looked at Giles, a stream of tears running down his face. "I tried to list them once, you know, back in Africa. Lost count after the first thousand." He pushed the heel of his hand to his eye socket and let out a bitter laugh. "Never had much of a head for arithmetic."
He turned his back to Giles again and reached out with his hand, as if trying to touch the rising sun. Wisps of smoke rose from his fingers as the light touched them.
"Do you have any idea what it's like? To wake up one day knowing that all the bad things that have ever been done to you, every single one of them, that you deserve them all, and still-" He pulled back the hand just before it burst into flames. "And still, no matter how long you live, no matter what you do, you're still going to hell because nothing will ever be enough to balance the scales."
Spike reached toward the light again, looking at his hand as if expecting it to hold all the answers. "So what's the point, then? Why even bother? Just let it all burn. Nothing but ashes, and then it would be over. Just like that."
"Don’t-" Giles started, but at just that moment the sun rose above the buildings, bathing the roof with light. For a fraction of a second Giles could see Spike standing in the light, the sun creating a flaming halo around the vampire, before the blinding sunlight made him reflexively close his eyes.
When he opened them again, Spike was gone.
Giles brought his hand up to shield his eyes and stared at the place where Spike had stood, his dark silhouette still burned on his retinas. He was struck with a sense of loss so palpable that he felt like his chest was going to explode, his eyes and throat burning as he watched at the rising sun.
"There is a glurgg nest in the building across the street."
Giles spun around, laughter escaping his lips when he saw Spike standing in the narrow shadows by the wall, blistered and burned, but alive. He ran to the vampire and pulled him to an embrace, carefully manouvering them both back into the dark safety of the building. Once inside, he let go of Spike and shoved him against the wall.
"You bloody idiot," he muttered, and then pinned Spike to the wall, pressing their lips together.
He didn't let Spike go until his breath had calmed down again, and his heart had stopped trying to escape his chest. He rested his forehead against Spike's and smiled.
"C'mon. We've got work to do."
Been doing good for better part of twenty years now but I can still hear them sometimes, all the people I killed. Don't think it'll ever stop.
And I don't...
Oh, fuck it.
Just bugger off, will you. There's a Passions marathon on telly tonight, and I'm damned if I'm going to miss Luis and Sheridan's wedding just because you're feeling bored. Go bother Rupert, he's your watcher, not me. Ask him where babies come from, that should be entertaining enough.
And if you ever mention this to anyone-
Yeah, exactly.
And I do not brood.