The Key to Connor: Chapter 4
By Rhi
Disclaimer: I don't own them. All Hail Joss.
Spoilers: This follows Ats ep "Forgiving" and contains spoilers thereto.
Distribution: Sure, just let me know.
Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com
Rating: NC-17 with warnings for language, pain, character death and
angst.
The burst of perfect joy that Angel felt at holding his boy again turned
into searing pain that coursed through his agonized body. He fell to his
knees, still clutching Connor to his chest. Then the pain was gone.
Angelus smiled wickedly down at the innocent boy in his hands. "Hmmm,
so many possibilities here, little one. I could eat you…I'm feeling really
peckish from all this running around I've been doing trying to save your
sorry ass. Or, I could have some minion raise you until you're old enough
to turn and I'd have a childe who is also my child. That sounds intriguing.
And who knows what abilities you'll turn out to have, born of that whore
Darla and me."
He locked the gurgling child carefully into his carrier and lifted him,
hurrying back to the Gate that called to him with promises of the pain
he would soon inflict on everyone the soul had loved.
*
Spike lurked in a dark corner of the Hyperion hotel, pacing restlessly
back and forth and chain-smoking with no regard for ashtrays or the polished
marble floor. This was taking too long and he had never had the patience
of his sire. Angelus would plot for years to destroy prized prey…torturing
and maiming first one loved one, then the next until the poor unfortunate
felt damned and despondent. Only then, when he'd utterly destroyed the
person, would Angelus feed. He claimed that nothing tasted better than
despair in the blood.
Personally, Spike thought he was crazy. Spike liked his blood spiced
with sex or violence…preferably both at the same time. Pheromones gave
it a great kick combined with adrenaline. Slayers practically reeked of
both when you fought them…it was why he'd sought them out.
Suddenly he felt a change in the pressure surrounding the glowing Gate.
He looked up and growled as a dark mass took shape within the scintillating
energy. With a huge boom and a rush of foul-smelling air from…somewhere…Angel
appeared in all his flowing black-dustered glory. He knelt for a moment
in the center of the gate, then rose, dropping Connor's carrier from his
hands and brushing the dust and dirt from himself as if he hadn't a care
in the world.
Spike looked at him sharply. Something was different about the Pouf…something
was…oh, fuck. He might have gotten Connor, but this wasn't the Pouf at
all…Spike could sense his true Sire standing before him and knew that all
Hell was indeed about to break loose.
*
With what little life remained to her, Buffy felt Angel's familiar presence
surge through the Gate she held open. Finally she could let go. She screamed,
allowing all the pain and anguish caused by the dread magics ripping her
life-energy from her body to escape in the terrible cry. The Gate collapsed
around her, its energy snapping back into her helpless figure like a bolt
of lightening. She convulsed in torment, the spikes ripping new gashes
in her limbs where they had almost healed. Her scream turned into a feeble
moan as she gasped for breath, trying to hold onto some semblance of life.
*
Spike heard the Slayer's scream and felt the energy snap into her as
the Gate collapsed. Dismissing Angelus and his spawn, he raced for the
stairs, leaping to the top and throwing himself through the door to help
her. He ran to Buffy's side and stopped, nonplussed by the damage she had
taken holding the Gate open for his damned sire.
*
Fred rushed forward grabbing Angel and hugging him with all her might.
"You're back. But…" she paused in worry, "how is Connor?"
Angel smiled gently down into her pretty face. "Connor? Oh, yeah," he
showed her the boy tucked so carefully into his carrier, then pulled her
close, whispering, "he's fine, see? Thanks for asking." Holding Fred to
him, he buried his mouth under her hair and sank aching fangs into the
pulse beating there so rapidly. He drained her small body in four heartbeats,
stopping just before she died, before anyone even knew what had happened,
then pulled slightly back, licking the blood from his lips. Wrapping one
long arm around her, he tore through his other wrist and held it to her
mouth, forcing the blood into her. His tall frame blocked the sight from
Lorne and Gunn as Fred began sucking, weakly at first, then voraciously,
as the Hunger swept over her. When he judged that she'd had enough, he
forced her mouth away and kissed the remaining blood from her lips. Her
eyes rolled back in her head and she lost any semblance of consciousness.
"Fred?" he said loudly. "Hey, guys…I think she's fainted from relief
or something. I…" he paused dramatically, "I barely saved Connor. Holtz
was going to kill him. God, I'm so broken up I can barely stand, myself…"
his voice trailed off and he sank to his knees next to the baby carrier
with Fred still clutched to his broad chest.
Gunn rushed forward to help, concern for Fred filling his kind face.
As he drew near, Lorne, who'd stopped moving in shock as the vampire spoke,
shouted, "NO!" but it was too late. Angelus sprang from his crouch, dropping
Fred's soon-to-rise corpse to the floor and reaching with powerful hands
to grab Gunn. Striking faster than a snake, the vampire sank his fangs
into Gunn's thick neck, taking his strong body to the floor as Angelus
sucked the blood from him. He fed Gunn from the wrist he'd given to Fred
and left him lying next to his love. "I never get tired of doing that,"
he grinned and started towards Lorne.
The green-skinned demon backed away in horror as Angelus approached
him. "So, from what Cordy tells me, just removing your head isn't enough,
is it…Lorne. Or do you prefer babycakes? I'm *not* really partial to nicknames
myself…they kinda…get on my nerves. Know what I mean?" With no further
ado, Angelus punched Lorne in the head, knocking him across the room and
unconscious with one vicious blow.
Smiling with unholy glee, he turned and headed for the stairs. "Fee
fi foe flavor…I smell the bloody of my favorite slayer…" he sing-songed.
*
Buffy's face was ashen, nearly all blood drained from it, leaving her
almost translucent. Her short blond hair lay stiffly clumped in brown dried
blood. Her slender body looked as if the life had been sucked out of it.
Gaunt and stricken, she raised suffering eyes to the vampire who loved
her. "Spike," she whispered, "Did Angel…"
"Yeah. He's back. Brought the little nipper with him and everything.
So we can get you the hell out of here now."
Buffy's hazel-green eyes filled with tears. "Then I didn't fail. It
wasn't all for nothing."
"Well that depends on how you look at things, Buff," Angelus joked playfully,
striding into the room. "Ooh, and just look at you, you've never looked
better, Babe. Nothing like blood, skin and a few spikes to get me in the
mood. Well," he paused, making a face at Spike, "not that kind of Spike…unless
you're feeling properly subservient, Childe?"
Buffy moaned as she realized that it wasn't Angel standing before her.
She didn’t know what had happened, but it was plain from the loss of the
soul bond that this was Angelus, not her beloved Angel. Fresh tears poured
from her eyes. "It *was* all for nothing then," she whispered.
Spike growled at his sire and stepped between him and Buffy. "Oh, Spikey.
How sad," Angelus drawled. "Still yearning after my sloppy seconds? Not
that she isn't a tasty little lay, but really, how pathetic can you be?
This is not how I raised you at all," he added, shaking one finger at Spike
mockingly and tsking through his teeth.
Spike just glared at Angelus and stood his ground, waiting for the inevitable
rush that he knew was coming. Angelus didn't disappoint, throwing himself
at Spike with a vicious roar and tossing him across the room to go crashing
against the wall like so much garbage. Spike pushed himself shakily to
his feet and attacked his sire.
Angelus had fed, and fed well, while Spike had rushed to LA with no
thought of anything but saving Buffy. He was hopelessly outmatched by his
sire's considerable bulk and freshly fueled strength. But Spike was determined
to save Buffy. He knew exactly what Angelus would do to her if given the
chance, and he was damned if he'd allow his sire to destroy the Slayer
after she'd given everything to save his useless brat.
Angelus pinned Spike to the floor with one powerful leap, ripping at
his throat, but Spike twisted to one side and rolled to his feet with lithe
grace. They circled each other, snarling like mad dogs and watching for
their chance to strike.
Angelus, though, was having difficulty concentrating on Spike with Buffy
lying there so delectably covered in blood. The strong smell was overpowering
to him. She was his marked mate and her pain and blood called to him overwhelmingly.
Rage filled him at the thought of her fucking Spike.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Buff. Cheating on me while I was gone was bad enough,
but with Spike?" Angel shook his head in mock sadness. "Now, Buff, that
was just a really low blow. I don't fancy appearing on Jerry Springer in
the "My ex fucked my childe and now I'm pissed" show. Really, Buff, I'd
think you'd have more taste. Mmm, but you do look so enticing, with all
your blood painted around you so prettily. Oh, and I love the look! Short
hair becomes you, darling." As he taunted the suffering Slayer, Angelus
took his eyes off of Spike for one fateful second.
Spike seized his chance…and his Sire…and head-butted him, smashing Angelus's
nose and knocking him backwards. Spike grabbed his larger bulk by the arms
and ducked down under Angelus, rolling backwards with lithe strength and
throwing his sire over him and through the window, with catastrophic force.
It wouldn't kill him, but it should incapacitate him long enough for Spike
to get Buffy the hell out of here.
"Gods, Slayer, look at you." Spike's deep blue eyes filled with tears
as he raced to her side. "How could you let them do this to you, Buffy?"
he whispered brokenly, kneeling and stroking the sticky blood-stained hair
from her face with loving fingers.
"How could you let those bastards from Wolfram and Hart crucify you
to open that damned Gate for him? You used your own life and blood to hold
it the whole damn time he was gone, didn't you? Look what they've done
to you, oh Buffy, Luv!" He sobbed her name in hopeless anguish, sure that
even the Slayer's extraordinary strength couldn't heal these horrific wounds
in time.
He stroked her face gently. She turned suffering eyes to him and blinked
dazedly into his handsome face. "Spike?" she whispered, "I-is the baby
all right? Did I keep the Gate open long enough?" her voice trembled with
pain as she struggled to stay conscious.
"Yes, Pet. You saved his bloody son. I'm going to pull these spikes
out and try to staunch the bleeding, Luv. Brace yourself" Spike ripped
his duster off and tore his shirt from his back, shredding it into strips.
He grasped the spike in Buffy's left hand and held her arm and fingers
down as gently as he could with his other hand.
Spike pulled the spike from her with one heave, tossing it away from
him as she screamed in renewed pain. Her torn hand gushed fresh blood from
the gaping wound in its center. Spike quickly padded it with fabric, then
wrapped it tightly with another strip from his shirt. Then, he performed
the same dread service for Buffy's right hand. She moaned brokenly in anguish,
her ravaged features contorted with the agony.
He moved down to her feet and hissed with fury as he saw the damage
the spikes had done to the delicate bones there. It would take a miracle
for the girl to ever walk again, he thought. He shook his head and grabbed
the spike, ripping it from his lover's broken body with a fierce pull,
fully aware of the twisted irony implicit in his ministrations. How many
victims had he impaled with railroad spikes over the years? He couldn't
even count. Now he faced the aftermath and cringed from the comparison.
He wrapped Buffy's foot as gently as he could, wincing at her barely
audible moan. *She can't even scream anymore,* he thought. *We've got to
get her to hospital now.* He worked quickly to remove the last of the spikes
from Buffy's other foot and wrapped it painstakingly.
Spike cradled the dying Slayer gently in his arms, wrapping the duster
around her and rising in one lithe motion. With anguished eyes and tears
poured down his chiseled face he gazed down at her. "I'm taking you to
the nearest bloody hospital, Baby, hold on!" he choked out.
Buffy stared at his beautiful face, amazed at the love she felt pouring
from him. He ran from the room and down the stairs with her and Spike spared
a quick thought for Connor, who was crying in his carrier next to Fred
and Gunn's dead bodies. Cursing, Spike shifted Buffy's light body in his
arms and grabbed the carrier awkwardly, stumbling in his haste to get the
hell out of the damned hotel.
He threw the brat into Angel's car and hot-wired the ignition, then
raced toward the nearest hospital. He crooning to the broken Slayer clutched
next to him in the front seat. "Hold on, Pet. We're almost there. Don't
you dare die on me again, Slayer, so help me, I'll kick your bloody arse.
I'll turn you myself…somehow…if you even try to get away. Please, Luv,
hang on just a bit longer. You've been so brave, so strong, just hold on,
Baby." His voice broke in anguish as he glanced at the wasted face of the
woman he loved with all his unbeating heart before facing ahead again to
try to concentrate on driving.
Buffy could barely focus on Spike's soft voice. She'd done her job.
Given her gift again. She could rest now, couldn't she? She was just so
tired. So very very tired.
Spike could feel her letting go, preparing to escape him yet again.
"Buffy," he said sharply, "Buffy, don't let go. You have to fight for a
while longer, Pet. You can't go yet, your work isn't finished here. What
about Dawn and Willow and Xander? You can't leave them alone on the Hellmouth
with Angelus loose. They need you. *I* need you. I love you Buffy. What
will happen to me if you leave?" His voice cracked with grief. "Connor
needs you, too, Buffy. Angel would have wanted you to take care of him.
We have to protect him from Angelus. Please, Luv, we'll find a way…together…somehow.
Just please don't leave me again." Tears streamed from his face as they
pulled up to the ER entrance.
Spike leapt from the car with Buffy in his arms, praying with everything
in him that they could still save her.
*
Doctors, nurses and orderlies ran through the hallways of the ER like
ants. They'd taken Buffy from Spike and carted her off to a sterile room
without another word to him. Spike sat and played with Connor, whom he'd
belatedly gathered from the car. *Good thing I didn't crash on the way
here, didn't even buckle the little brat in,* he thought ruefully.
"Heaven help you, Little Nip, with me as a big brother! But I guess
I'm all the family you've got now, what with your daddy being all evil
again. Trust me, you don't want him for a father…with his ideas on discipline
you wouldn't last a day."
Connor gurgled up at Spike, somehow sensing the connection between them.
Spike winced as he realized that he needed to get the kid something to
eat. Hell, *he* needed something to eat…he hadn't had any blood since before
he left Sunnyhell.
"I'm gonna look just dandy with spit up all over my black t-shirts.
How the bloody hell do I get myself into these things?" he asked the brat,
rhetorically. "One thing's for sure, the Scoobies need to get off their
respective arses and lock everything down, cause Angelus is sure to come
to town for a visit." Spike picked up Connor's carrier and made his way
to the payphones, praying to whatever would listen that Willow and Dawn
were home.
*
Buffy was warm. Warm and woozy and floating in a sea of peaceful calm.
Nothing hurt anymore…she couldn't feel her arms or her legs. She felt as
if she'd been wrapped in cotton and set adrift on a peaceful tide. *Mmm
nice,* she thought dreamily, then dove back down into the dark of healing
Slayer sleep.
*
Cordy and Gru strode through the doors of the Hyperion as fast as they
could and stopped dead at the sight greeting them. Gunn and Fred lay in
the middle of the floor and Lorne was lying unconscious to their left.
Cordy ran to the humans while Gru looked to Lorne.
"Singer, can you awaken?" he asked. " Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok
Clan, awaken. We are in need of your good counsel, friend!" He shook Lorne
ungently.
The green-skinned singer groaned and grabbed his head. "Aargh. That
boy can hit! Remind me not to call him Pumpkin ever again, K?" He sat up
slowly, looking dazedly around the lobby. Seeing the unmoving bodies of
Fred and Gunn, he groaned. "Cordy, get away from them. Angelus…he…they're
not our friends anymore."
"I saw them die," Cordy sobbed. "I saw Angelus kill him and Fred and
go after Buffy…God it was awful. What happened?"
"It’s a long story, darling," Lorne drawled from the office. "Why don't
we chain up our undead friends here and you and Grusalag come sit down
and Uncle Lorne will tell you the whole tale?"
"You know, Lorne, as scrumptious as that sounds, I have a better idea,"
Angelus growled, stalking slowly into the lobby. He was covered in garbage
and looked much the worse for wear. Clearly the fall from several stories
up had not been kind to him. "Where is Spike? That little fuck threw me
into a garbage truck headfirst. By the time I climbed out, I was halfway
across this damned city," he snarled.
Cordy laughed coldly at him. "That must just kill you, Mr. Billowy Coat
King of Pain. Good thing you didn't have your trademark leather pants on…you'd
never get the smell out! So, you want to give me one good reason we shouldn't
just stake all of you, Angelus?"
"Um, let's see, Cordy…how about 'cause you can't? Wouldn't want to hurt
your friends, now would you? Not when there's a chance that you might still
be able to save our souls," he sneered. "No," he barked as Gru moved towards
Gunn and Fred. "I have some uses for those two, stay away from them. Better
yet, get out," he snarled at the three hapless friends. "I don't have time
to kill all of you right now…my fledglings will rise soon. And unless you
want to stay for dinner, you really should scamper, kids." He laughed evilly
as he paced forward towards them.
Cordy backed away from her fallen friends, wishing with all her heart
that whatever demon powers the PTB had granted her were enough for her
to fight Angelus. Sadly, she didn't think that he'd be all that impressed
by floating or glowing. She grabbed Gru's hand and they ran from the lobby
with Lorne close behind, wondering what they could do now that hell had
arrived in the form of Angelus.
*
Buffy lay, aching and exhausted in the hospital bed. Her poor, maimed
hands and feet were wrapped in bandages and propped on pillows. The doctors
were amazed at her recovery, but she still had far to go before she regained
even a tiny bit of her Slayer strength. Right now, it was all locked into
healing her as fast as possible. At least, they'd found her a windowless
private room, she thought. It made it possible for Spike to spend daylight
hours with her without fearing for his own safety.
Spike had been with her every time she woke, lending his quiet support,
but at last she had convinced him to go feed tonight. He'd coaxed clean
clothes and blankets, bottles and diaper changes from one of the nurses
in the pediatric ward with his sad tale of Connor's tortured mother unable
to care for him with her injured hands. *The night blue eyes didn't hurt
either,* she thought to herself, chuckling a bit ruefully. God knows, she'd
fallen for them. He'd taken Connor with him, and she'd been grateful to
see the careful manner in which he cared for the baby. Spike not want to
admit it, but he was already half in love with Angel's son. The baby cooed
and gurgled at him almost as if he could tell that Spike was connected
somehow to Angel and Darla.
Buffy closed her eyes and started to sink back into blessed oblivious,
grateful for the respite from having to plan fighting strategies with Spike.
She was so weak, she knew she'd be useless in any battle. And Angelus was
sure to be making minions right this very minute.
"Well don't you look all sweet and helpless lying there, Buff," a well-known
voice sneered at her. As if her thoughts conjured him from the ether, Angelus
stood in her doorway, clad in black leather pants and a crimson silk shirt.
Buffy reached one bandaged paw for the call button, but Angelus strode
to her bed and grabbed it easily away from her. "Uh uh uh, Buff," he drawled.
"Now you wouldn't want to interrupt our little tete a tete, Lover, would
you? Besides, Gunn is waiting outside to kiss the pretty nurses if they
get too close. Do you really want that on your head?"
Buffy shook her head helplessly, knowing she was completely at his mercy.
Angelus reached one deceptively gentle hand to hers and began unwrapping
the dressings from it. "Oh, Buffy," he whispered, lust flaring in his dark
eyes, "this is just delicious!" He licked sensuously at the wound in her
palm, handsome features slipping to game face as he opened the scabbed
wound with his tongue and sucked at the powerful blood.
Buffy groaned in anguish as the renewed pain flared through her body.
She batted at him with her other hand, thrashing uselessly in the hospital
bed as he climbed on top of her, still holding her wounded hand to his
mouth and chewing at it with fangs and tongue.
Angelus ground his leather-clad erection hard against Buffy's bundled
body in growing lust as he lapped at the blood now flowing freely from
her hand. "Mmmmm, keep struggling, Lover, you're turning me on. So pretty
and fragile. I could just eat you up," he laughed. He pushed his tongue
into the wound obscenely and twirled it against the torn tissue and bruised
flesh, panting unnecessarily as the taste made his lust flare even stronger.
The end…for now…
Author's Note: Many thanks to Jean, who suggested some ways
I could try a different Angelus ending, where he doesn't kill Connor
-Rhi (who is becoming vaguely schizophrenic from carrying all these
endings around in her head, LOL)
Author's Note-2: Ok, guys, here's the deal. After all the endings
that I've done, I'm most interested in continuing this thread…Angelus has
Buffy, Connor is alive and presently safe with Spike and the remaining
Fang Gang. So I'm going to spin this off into The Key II: The Angelus Chronicles.
You can follow it there. I'm telling you right now, I don't guarantee that
anyone will survive…you know how dark I write Angelus. But I want to explore
the dynamics of his marking of Buffy, as well as develop some of the differences
I perceive between childer and minions. That's what I plan to do with the
new series. If that interests you, feel free to come along with me for
the ride…should be exciting…
*
Rhi turned and gazed up warily at the dark vampire who loomed behind
her in the shadows of her messy home office. "How was that? Are you happy
now? I'm letting you out to play with free reign."
Angelus smiled wickedly, Buffy's frail body clutched possessively
in his strong, cold arms. "Delightful…Rhiannon. One might even say…perfect
happiness. Now get to work before I'm forced to discipline you again,"
he growled with a particularly nasty smile.
Rhi winced and shifted uncomfortably on her soft chair. She began
typing as fast as her fingers could speed on the plastic keys…The Key to
Connor II: The Angelus Chronicles…
Continued in
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