Kin of the Soul

[lit_gal]

Once upon a time there was Kin of the Heart where Angel and Xander learned to be friends. Now we're working towards something entirely different.

Kin of the Soul
Slash: Angel/Xander, Angel/Spike
Rated: ADULT 
banner by objectivelypink


Angel showing up out of heaven has really made a mess of things.  It's going to take a while to sort any of this out.


( Part One ) ( Part Two ) ( Part Three ) ( Part Four ) ( Part Five ) ( Part Six ) ( Part Seven ) ( Part Eight ) ( Part Nine ) ( Part Ten ) ( Part Eleven ) ( Part Twelve ) ( Part Thirteen ) ( Part Fourteen ) (Part Fifteen ) ( Part Sixteen ) ( Part Seventeen ) ( Part Eighteen ) ( Part Nineteen ) ( Part Twenty) ( Part Twenty-One ) ( Part Twenty-Two ) ( Part Twenty-Three ) ( Part Twenty-Four ) ( Part Twenty-Five ) ( Part Twenty-six ) ( Part Twenty-Seven ) ( Part Twenty-eight ) ( Part Twenty-nine )( Part thirty )  ( Part Thirty-one )  ( Part Thirty-Two ) ( Part Thirty-Three ) ( Part Thirty four )  ( Part Thirty-five ) ( Part Thirty-Six ) ( Part Thirty-Seven ) ( Part Thirty-Eight ) ( Part Thirty-nine ) ( Part Forty ) ( Part Forty-one ) ( Part Forty-two ) ( Part Forty-three ) ( Part Forty-four ) ( Part Forty-five ) ( Part Forty-six )  ( Part Forty-Seven )  ( Part Forty-Eight )  ( Part 49 )

50

Spike stopped just inside the doors of the Hyperion. He was ninety percent sure Wesley’s message was a trap, but even if it was, enough was enough. They’d been run to ground too many times. Cordelia and Blair could disappear places Spike couldn’t. They could run during the day and get on a bloody airplane without worrying about getting turned to dust. Since Angelus hadn’t made any secret out of the fact that all he really wanted now was Spike, it was time for Spike to take his lumps and let the others jack themselves free of the mess. Once Angelus had whipped him raw and raped him a few dozen times, Spike would get his way back into his sire’s good graces. He always had.

A minion snarled at him, and Spike slammed a stake into its heart before it could blink. Too bad. He’d done it too fast for the others to notice, so he’d just have to make his point a little clearer.

“Olly, olly, all in free,” he sang. “Security around here isn’t worth shite. Who do you have to dust to get a little attention?”

A half dozen minions threw themselves at him, but Spike hadn’t dusted more than four before the others started backing away. Under other circumstances, Spike might have chased them down to dust them, but if this was Angelus’ trap, he wanted to stay focused. It wouldn’t help him much, but he was determined to get in a few good hits before he went down.

“Spikey!!” a voice sang from the top of the stairs. Spike cringed at the sight of Harmony sailing down the stairs, her arms open like she was going to sodding hug him. Daft bint. “I’ve missed you so much.” Ignoring Spike’s death glare, Harmony actually fucking hugged him. “The master is waiting. He wants to see you,” she said with a smile as she backed away, but Spike frowned. There was something in her expression that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“That right?” he asked as he brushed his shirt off. Harmony had a bad habit of wearing lotions and shit that had glitter, and if he had one sparkle on him, he was dusting her—trap or no trap.

“Yep. Wesley promised to get you right away. Oh, but Angelus and Xander were having sex.” She leaned in closer like she was sharing a secret. “Angelus likes sex. A lot. You should wait until he’s done having sex first.”

Spike stared at her, wondering, and not for the first time, whether some demon other than a vampire had gotten into her as she lay dying. Spike knew full well that sometimes a vampire didn’t turn out violent. Angelus had beaten him enough for that very flaw. However, Spike had never seen a vampire turn out like Harmony. He hadn’t even heard of one.

“You should go see Faith and Graham. They’re home too. Just about everyone is home now,” Harmony finished, smiling at the minions and assorted demons gathered in the lobby. In a distant corner, a minion muttered about the fact that someone needed to put Harmony down. Spike didn’t even bother to turn and look before he flung a stake into the corner. The screams that followed meant he missed the heart.

“Bugger it all,” Spike said, pushing past Harmony. Behind him, there was a puff and the screaming stopped, so someone had put the minion down. “Next one ta talk out of turn dies a lot slower than that,” Spike warned as he got to the top of the stairs. “If I want some minion alive and screaming, you lot let him scream, got it?” Spike demanded. It was better than letting them think he’d missed. Some minions nodded—others vanished into the shadows. Good. They needed fewer minions around.

Spike headed for Faith’s room. The scent of blood and magic swirled heavily in the air, and his eyes just about watered when he opened the door. Wesley knelt next to the bed with some magical incense that made Spike’s skin crawl and Faith paced the room, a cigarette in hand.

“Spike.” Faith said his name the way someone else might say a prayer, and for a half-second, Spike considered preening in that praise. Then he caught sight of Graham.

“Fuck. What, the idiot couldn’t keep his bloody head down?” Heading for the bed, Spike tried to see how bad the break was. The skin was purpling and an end of the broken collarbone stuck out at an odd angle, threatening to poke through the skin at any point. Graham’s breathing was shallow and had a sort of wet rattle way down deep that was bothersome. “Get the bedspread on that side. We need to lift him down to the floor,” Spike said, pulling the bedding out on his side. Faith just about shoved Wesley to the side as she hurried to do the same. “Angelus order him to stay here?” Spike asked. Hopefully not. Spike wasn’t sure what was broken or how easy it would be to fix him. He needed to go to hospital.

“The cuff causes him pain if he leaves,” Wesley answered. Faith and Spike got Graham to the ground and Spike started feeling around the injury. His collarbone had snapped like a twig. The fucking soldier was just lucky the broken end hadn’t cut through a vein.

“How much pain?” Spike asked Wesley.

“Thrashing and screaming sorts of pain,” Wesley said, his voice tight with emotion.

“Fuck.” Spike grimaced. “That’d kill him. We need to stabilize the bone. I’ll get it in place.” Spike looked over at Wesley. The man was gaunt, but he had a steel to him that he hadn’t before. Sometimes prey was like that. You thought you had a soft one, and the first sign of pain and hardship, and they toughened right up. “Do you have anything to make the bone knit? We need to get it stable before the ragged edges cut something we can’t fix.”

“I have a potion,” Wesley said, but the doubt on his face made Spike wait for the other shoe to drop. “Last time I used it, he screamed and thrashed a lot.”

“That’s out then. Go get something that will hold the bone in place—potion or spell,” Spike ordered. He’d suggest calling 9-1-1, only he didn’t think a riot in the lobby with minions scrambling to eat the paramedics would help much. If they got the bone set, Spike could actually drain off some of the blood gathering in the joint easy enough. That would stabilize him for the time being, unless the bone had already done some sort of lung damage.

Wesley nodded and got up.

“Nine minutes,” Spike called after him. “You be back in nine minutes.”

“Yes, master,” Wesley said. He cringed at his own word choice, but Spike would play the bloody master if it got things done.

“Right then, what the fuck happened? Wesley talked like Angel is back in his message.”

Faith nodded. “He is.”

Spike frowned. This was a new wound. If Angel was back, that wasn’t making a penny’s worth of sense.

“He was in heaven, Spike. He thinks this is hell.” Faith bit her lip. It wasn’t a gesture Spike was used to seeing on her.

“This fucking well is hell,” Spike said briefly. “Watch soldier-boy,” Spike said as he got up. “Is Angel in his room?”

Faith nodded. “With Xander.”

Spike felt his guts knot with worry. “Is Xander still in one piece?”

Faith nodded again, her fingers resting on Graham’s arm. “Yeah. Graham was trying to get him to back away from Angel and give him some space.”

Spike snorted and didn’t point out that Graham was thick as pig shite if he thought taking Xander away would calm Angel down. Instead he just headed for Angel’s room. His demon wanted to rage and rip and tear. Angel had hurt Graham, maybe fatally if that ragged bone edge cut something vital or if the fluid built up in his lungs. He’d left Wesley gaunt and Faith nearly trembling with fear. He was holding Xander, a boy Spike had broken in, who had submitted, who had laid under Spike’s hands. The demon raged at all the insults, but Spike didn’t have illusions. As long as Angel was feeding on human blood and working out, Spike wasn’t going to beat him without a whole lot of luck on his side.

Treading softly, Spike pushed open the door that connected the sitting room with the sleeping area. Angel was rocking in the corner, his body bent at awkward angles. It took Spike a second to realize that he was holding Xander. For a brief second, Spike’s demon slipped free, his rage poured out at the fear that Angel had killed Xander. Xander’s upper body lay in Angel’s lap, arms hanging limply.

Xander turned his head, and brown eyes found his, eyes full of confusion.

“Shhh, a choi,” Angel muttered. “It’s illusion. It’s all illusion. I’ll protect you.” Angel pulled Xander closer. Well, fuck. The soul might be back, but it brought a few bats to hang out in the belfry.

“Peaches,” Spike said softly. Angel paused in his rocking. Xander brought his hands up to touch Angel’s shoulders, but the second he made contact, Angel shivered and vamped out.

“No problem. No problem,” Xander said and he let his hands fall awkwardly to his sides again. “Hey, I have an idea. Does anyone want to get on the bed?”

“They shouldna have sent you here. Won’t let them hurt you.” Angel looked around the room with yellow eyes, and for the first time in a hundred years, Spike found himself utterly flummoxed. Usually he could come up with a plan for any situation. Oh, it might not be a particularly good plan, but he could come up with a plan. Right now, he had no idea what to do.

“Peaches, you’re on Earth. The boy’s been here the whole time, so he’s pretty good at protecting himself.” Spike crouched down near the door, his hand holding the door so he could get out fast, slamming the door behind him if need be. This version of Angel was feeling more dangerous than Angelus, truth be told.

“I’m not sure all of him is on Earth. He seems to kinda have his own world here, Spike,” Xander said. “And my back is hurting.”

“Not surprised, pet. He’s holding you odd, that’s for sure.”

Angel’s eyes found Spike and suddenly Angel snarled like a dog and pulled Xander to his chest.

“Hey, human bones here. Take it easy.” Xander’s hand rested on Angel’s shoulder and Angel surged up, his eyes darting from Xander’s hand where it rested against his shoulder to Spike and back, but he continued to hold Xander tightly to his chest. “And now I’m feeling emasculated,” Xander complained, his voice muffled from being pressed to Angel.

Spike glanced back out at the hall. He should go deal with Graham, but this wasn’t a version of Angel he trusted. He could kill Xander without even understanding what he was doing.

“Mate, you have to let humans breathe. Do you remember breathing?” Spike asked, modeling it by taking a deep breath and letting it out. Angel snarled louder.

“Seriously, he’s better when you guys aren’t helping. Give him some space,” Xander said.

Spike’s pressed his lips together and debated with himself for a few seconds. “If you let him kill you, I’m bloody chasing you into the next life and whipping you raw,” Spike threatened. The words were no more out of his mouth than Angel threw himself forward.

Even though Spike had been prepared to run for it, he still barely had time to clear the door and kick it closed. Angel slammed into the door so hard that the frame shivered and something made a crunching sound. Spike curled his hands into claws and picked the best spot in the sitting room to defend himself as he watched the doorknob, waiting for it to turn. Fuck, he was an idiot. He was dumber than pig shite. He was dumber than Graham. Angel was feeling threatened, and he had to go and offer to take a whip to the boy. Well, at least they knew Angel was processing and understanding language somewhere under all that feral growling.

Spike braced for Angel to come out and attack, and Spike suspected he’d have to fight for his life. Instead Angel hit the door again, and this time a couple of books fell off the shelves and clattered to the floor. A few more hits, and Spike realized that Angel couldn’t get to him. “Daft bugger,” Spike muttered as he backed up toward the hall. If Angel could figure out how to use a door knob, they might all be in trouble. Spike closed the door to the sitting room and found Harmony waiting for him.

“Does he need anything?” She had that hopeful look on her face as if having something to offer would make her the happiest little vamp in the world.

“Find the key and lock that door,” Spike said, poking his thumb toward Angel’s door.

“On it,” Harmony agreed with a wide smile as she rushed down the hall.

Spike stood in the middle of the empty hall listening to the minions mill about below him. Thankfully Xander had soundproofed Angel’s room or he really would think he was in hell. Angelus hadn’t chosen the best and brightest minions, that’s for sure. They were an argumentative lot, and Spike could hear several of them making fun of Harmony as she hurried through the first floor.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? He hated courts. The only time he’d tried to run a court had been Sunnydale, and that had just turned out just bloody lovely. The fucking Mayor had corrupted most of his minions, Dru turned him out, and he’d eaten Xander’s little slayer friend. Actually, that last one had been the bright spot of his time as Master of the Hellmouth, but he couldn’t exactly go bragging about that without both Xander and Angel threatening to brood their way through the fucking week. But always before, when one of his plans went belly-up he could just move on. He never feared making a right bollocks out of something because he could just leave the disaster behind. He’d shoved around most of Europe and Asia that way, both with and without Dru. He didn’t want a soddin’ court. Only now, he had one, and he couldn’t see any way to get out easy. They couldn’t even run for it with Angel and Graham both down for the count.

They couldn’t run and he had no bloody idea how he was supposed to deal with an Angel who’d clearly gone ‘round the twist. He’d call for Cordelia to come back, only he didn’t know where she was. He’d given her strict orders to head for the hills and wait to see what the scuttlebutt was on the court before showing her face. So, he didn’t have a lot of choices. The second Angel was back on his feet, though…. Spike was going to bloody torture the vamp until he remembered that he had bloody duties that he was supposed to fucking tend to. With a scowl, he strode back to Faith’s room.

Wesley was back, a huge book laid open next to Graham. “I found a spell. If you can hold the bone straight, I think I can get it to set.”

“Make sure you can,” Spike said. This was going to hurt like hell, and if Graham woke up and thrashed about, that bone was going to hit a vein or artery for sure. But he was too weak for pain spells.

Wesley’s back stiffened. “This will work,” he said firmly, showing that hint of steel at his core. “It has to. That git Finn emailed back and he is declining to get involved.” Wesley’s face twisted with anger.

“He probably figures it’s a trap,” Spike said. He couldn’t really blame Finn, especially given that Finn had ordered Graham to leave, and Graham had chosen to follow Spike’s orders instead. Graham wasn’t theirs, anymore. They weren’t going to go out of their way to put their own people at risk to help him. That left the clan to take care of him.

“The spell is ready,” Wesley said with a sort of formality that didn’t really match the mood. Faith stood by the window, her hands trembling, and Spike put his knees on either side of Graham’s head and used his fingers to probe the wound. There was swelling enough to do some real joint damage, but first they had to get this bone stabilized. Funny, he’d learned most of what he knew about the human body by breaking them. Putting them back together—that had been a sport that Angelus had only indulged when he wanted to torture some poor bloke more. Now Spike felt a cold desperation that he might muck this up, and he didn’t know what would happen to Angel or Faith if Graham went and died. Spike dug his fingers into the purpling flesh, pushing at the broken bone. He could feel flesh yielding and muscle straining.

“Luv, if this goes wrong, am I letting him die or turning him?” Spike asked Faith. She turned and looked at him, her eyes large with panic. Right then, she wasn’t up for any big life and death decisions. “Nevermind. We need the clan strong. He dies, and he’s getting elected the first fledge of the clan,” Spike said. After that, he concentrated on getting the bone straight. He’d make Graham a fledge if need be, but if he did that, Angel was going to birth kittens just as soon as he found where he’d left the rest of his mind. Giving Wesley a nod, Spike held the bone in place as Wesley started to chant. The feel of magic skittered across his skin like spiders.

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[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

He's really stepping up to the plate. Angel owes him.