Restive Nature
Rated NC-17
Chapter Fifteen
Broken
"Tired baby?" Angel asked solicitously as he pulled the car out of the parking lot. He watched his wife twist around in her seat to check on their daughter. He knew she was safely ensconced in her car seat, but it was a habit Max had. After making sure that Eva was still asleep, she turned a grinning face back to him.
"Not at all," she shrugged. "If we’d have had to wait for that later flight, I might have been."
"That is just so strange," he mused.
"What?" she asked softly, not wanting to wake the child. Eva had been fussy the entire trip back and no amount of cuddling from either parent would settle her down. Luckily, it hadn’t been a particularly full flight out of Heathrow at that time. So they just tried to keep her occupied and apologized to the people nearest them for the noise.
"No matter where we went, the time change didn’t bother you," he answered, just as softly. He kept his eyes on the road. He’d been driving a lot of years, but even he had to become acclimated to the correct side of the road again. Which was funny to him. He was Irish. When had he come around to the Americanized manner of thinking that American ways were correct ways? He mentally shrugged that off. The only important thing was getting his family home. To sleep. Because even if Max wasn’t affected by time change and jet lag, he and Eva were.
"It was thoughtful of Wes to bring the car," Max sighed. There’s been such a mix up about their flight time that they felt bad asking to have someone meet them. Wes had taken care of this instead, so they wouldn’t have to worry about a cab, unless they were both too tired to drive.
"Yeah," Angel nodded, then glanced again at the dashboard. "Although I’m going to have to ask him why the mileage is different than when we left."
"Angel," she mock whined, "you jerk. You told Wes he could use the car if they needed to."
"I did?"
"You did."
"When was that?"
"Right before we left," she reminded him gently. "You know, when Eva kept trying to eat my shirt." Angel thought back and remembered watching his daughter pulling on her mother’s shirt, reaching to stuff the soft fabric into her mouth to soothe her aching gums. And the resultant view from his daughter’s antics. He’d mentioned the car? It seemed to him that he’d been a little distracted.
"Oh yeah," he chuckled. But the look she shot him told him that she didn’t buy his false acceptance for a second. With another glance back at the slumbering child, she unclicked her seat belt and scooted across the seat to lean against her husband. Angel wrapped his free arm around her and they continued home. There was surprisingly little traffic on the road, even at nearly three in the morning.
Neither one questioned the gates that were slightly ajar, just taking it as another sign that Wes had thoughtfully prepared to make things easier for them. It was only when Max was lifting the car seat from its vehicle mooring that a whisper of sound caught her attention. She set Eva back in with a little click and pushed the door shut.
"Max, what?" Angel hadn’t heard anything aside from the usual late evening sounds in the distance.
"Someone’s here," she whispered harshly, then slashed the air with her hand, indicating for him to be quiet. They waited and the noise came a little more loudly this time. A moan. Exchanging glances, Angel jerked his chin towards the direction it came from, the main doors. With ease, Max moved forward. They’d developed an easy rhythm of silently communicating with each other. He was telling her to go and check it out while he protected Eva.
After he’d become human again, they’d had friendly competitions with each other. And while they were closely matched for strength, he had lost the majority of his sight advantage. She could see better in the dark than he could. Which made her more suited for this type of reconnaissance. Plus the fact that she was quicker than most everything they dealt with, he had no large worries that she was in that much danger. Just the unknown element of what they were dealing with. He watched her disappear into the shadows, tracking her movements only by the glimpses of her white shirt that showed briefly under her jacket as she moved.
There was a thump, another moan, then a surprised, "Spike! What the hell are you doing here?"
With a relieved grin, Angel reached into the car to get Eva. She really needed to be in out of the night air, warm though it was. The baby had slept through the entire mini adventure. Angel glanced at the trunk of the car, figuring they’d just need the diaper bag for tonight. He could get everything after he’d had some rest. He moved towards where the noise was coming from, the thought in the back of his mind that it had to be important if Spike willingly came over to the hotel, without Buffy.
And by the looks of things, it was dreadfully important. Enough so that Spike seemed to have tied one on. He was slumped on the ground, by the door. A beer bottle was dangling from his fingers and he had his other hand pressed against his temple. He was staring up at Max, stupefied.
"Why in the bleedin’ hell did ya ‘ave to ‘it me?" he demanded in a slurring, petulant tone.
"’Cause there’s a serious lack of demons in Ireland and I was homesick," she quipped.
"Thought you were in England," he groused.
"There too," she shrugged. "The question though, is why are you here?"
"’Cause there’s nowhere else fer me to go," he mumbled. He pulled his hand away from where she’d struck him. There was no blood, but he could feel the knot forming. "Damn woman! Ought to learn to pull yer punch a little."
"At least it wasn’t your nose," Angel reminded him none too gently of others propensity for attacking there.
"She’d ‘ave bloody broken it," he groaned. Max and Angel exchanged weary glances. They’d been very much looking forward to cuddling together, getting a little rest and having some time to themselves before their friends descended on them.
"I guess we better get him inside," Angel finally decided. Max nodded once and grabbed the hand with the bottle in it. It was empty, so she took it from him and tossed it to her husband. He caught it with his free hand and shook his head. "How many of these did you have?" he asked the other man as his wife hauled him to his feet and braced him up.
"He’s bleeding," she informed Angel quietly, having caught the scent and sight of it on his hand.
"’S not bad," Spike shook his head, whether to negate their concern or to clear his head, they weren’t sure. "Not like inside."
"You’re bleeding internally?" Angel asked with a modicum of concern. But Spike didn’t answer. With a sigh, he opened the main doors and Max forcibly dragged him inside, stumbling and moaning the whole way. "Should we call an ambulance?"
Max managed to get him to the nearest chair and settled him into it. She knelt before him and impersonally ran her hands over his torso, searching for other injuries. "I don’t think so," she shook her head. "Spike? Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"Jus’ my ‘eart," he admitted softly.
"You hurt your heart?" she asked, puzzled.
"I didn’t, but it is," he mumbled. Max rolled her eyes and looked up at her husband. The look she gave him told him firmly that it was up to him now. She stood and moved to him, taking the car seat and bag from him.
"It looks like he scraped his knuckles up," she informed him softly. "And the bump I gave him. But something’s not right." She glanced back at the blonde, huddling over, his arms cradling his waist. "I’ll put Eva down. See what you can find out." Without waiting for him to agree, she headed for their suite, moving quickly but silently.
Angel waited until she was gone before running a distracted hand over his face. He really didn’t want to deal with a drunken Spike, just after he’d gotten home. He figured he had a fairly good idea what had happened, having seen him in this condition before. Spike drank. But he drank to be drunk for only one reason. Woman trouble. With a sigh, he figured he’d get Spike to admit that he’d screwed up as usual, commiserate that Spike along with the rest of mankind didn’t understand women and then send him home. His mumbled ranting had begun again and Angel barely managed to repress the frustrated growl that rose in his throat.
"Again I ask," he tried to get the other man’s attention, "how much did you drink tonight?" It wouldn’t really be an indicator of anything, but he had to start somewhere.
"Don’t know," Spike shrugged heavily. "’Ave to ask Lorne."
"Lorne?" Angel’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t realized that they were on drinking terms. Or that Spike would go to a karaoke bar.
"Well, ‘e’d know," Spike answered angrily, defensively. "E was the one shovin’ ‘em under ma nose."
"Lorne was making you drink?" Angel asked suspiciously. "Why would he do that?"
"’Cause I tol’ ‘im to," Spike rolled his eyes up at the taller man. He shook his head. Really, Angel could be so incredibly dense at times.
"Spike, what’s wrong?" he discarded small talk and went straight to the problem. "What did you do?"
"Cleaned up yer mess," Spike grinned. He clearly remembered that. Killing the demon that Wes was counting on Angel to take care of.
"Mess? What mess?" It seemed utter confusion was on the menu tonight.
"Did my job," Spike continued. "Did it even though I wanted to go ‘ome and go ta sleep. Not like the great poofter runnin’ away."
"I didn’t run-!" Angel growled angrily before stopping himself. Why was he defending himself when he didn’t even know what it was he was supposed to have run away from?
"Buffy’s right," Spike continued to mumble. "You always leave. Leave when she needed ya, when Dru needed ya. Hell! Even when I needed ya."
"You needed me?" he asked dubiously. Of course, with the mention of Dru, he could see that Spike was referring to past times.
"’F course not!" Spike sputtered. "Ya got yer screws loose if ya think that."
"Yeah," Angel grunted. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The blonde was starting to wear on his nerves. He tried to focus on the events of the night that led Spike here.
"I mean, ‘s not like I have many friends," Spike defended. "Not that we’re friends. But I had to go somewhere. Couldn’t stay home."
Aha! They were getting closer to the problem now. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you went to Lorne first." The other man brightened visibly for a moment, the deflated again.
"’S not my friend," he muttered. "E’s my boss. There’s a difference."
"Your boss?" Angel grimaced. "What does that mean."
"It means I work for him, pillock," Spike growled. Honestly, there was that dense thing again.
"You work for Lorne?" Angel inquired skeptically. He shook his head again. "Never mind. Obviously I haven’t heard all the news yet." Which wasn’t a surprise. There’d been other things to talk about on the few occasions that he’d called home. "But I know from experience that bosses and employees can be friends."
"Oh yeah," Spike grinned. "Doesn’t matter though. You weren’t here."
"Spike, focus!" Angel snapped. "Why are you here?" he demanded, with emphasis on the ‘you’.
"I told you! I couldn’t stay home!" Spike yelled back. There was something about home that was disquieting in his mind at that moment. He couldn’t quite remember, having drunk enough to dull the memory, if not the pain.
"Spike, whatever happened, you’re just going to have to deal with it," Angel directed. "Go home, apologize to Buffy, tell her you’re an idiot, whatever, just deal with it. She can’t stay mad at you forever."
"Oh that’s right!" Spike exploded back. "Jus’ assume that it’s my fault! Bloody ‘ell! No matter what, it’s always Spike’s fault!" He stopped suddenly, caving in on himself again. Angel watched in disbelief as the man began to sob. "It’s my fault. ‘As to be. Not ‘er. It’d kill ‘er." This was too much.
"I’m calling Buffy," he sighed, moving to his office, and the phone.
"Don’t you dare!" Spike screamed after him, coming out of his stupor enough to race after him. "Ya leave ‘er alone. She doesn’t need this!" Angel watched, fascinated as Spike slammed his hands over the receiver and held it down. Angel hadn’t even touched it yet. He approached cautiously. This behavior was starting to worry him. Maybe something larger was at play here than just a simple fight. He settled one hand on the other man’s shoulder.
"Spike, what happened tonight?"
"Nothin’," he replied brokenly. "Nothin’ at all. Jus’ like always."
"Spike, either you tell me, or I’m calling Buffy," he threatened gently. The blonde stared at him for a moment before pulling his hands back to himself and slumping into the nearest chair. Angel bit his lip and perched on the edge of the desk. But Spike’s attention was caught by something else. The blonde reached over the seat to pull something closer. All Angel could tell was that it seemed to be a large frame, with a bow wrapped around it. He recalled quickly that the last time he’d talked to her, Cordelia had said something about having a surprise waiting for them.
Spike’s hand softly caressed whatever the picture was of. Angel moved from the desk to come around and see what it was. He crouched down and was stunned to see that it was an enlarged photograph from the wedding. But it wasn’t any of the ones that they’d posed for. It must have been one of the candids that the photographer had been trying to get. The artist in Angel appreciated the simple beauty of the scene before him. And he could remember with crystal clarity, that moment. Eva had been fussy, since everyone had been busy posing for the pictures. That meant she had been set on the floor to play.
The little girl had kept crawling to her parents, away from Karen, who’d been keeping an eye on her. After some laughing and joking, the photographer had called a five-minute break so that the couple could give their daughter the attention she so desperately wanted. He must have snapped this shot while they’d been playing. Angel had offered her his hands and pulled the little girl up to stand. She’d wanted to walk, as she’d been trying to do for a few weeks. So he got behind her and they’d walked around the room. After a few minutes of that, Max had come over for her turn. Angel had crouched behind the little girl, still holding her up with two strong fingers grasped in still pudgy baby hands. Max had bent over them and Angel had lifted his face for a kiss. The picture had captured them in that moment, when wedding parties, pictures, guests, gifts and plans had faded from them and they were a family at play together.
Angel glanced from the picture to Spike. The blonde had a desperate longing on his face. Something clicked in his mind and he knew that maybe he’d found the answer. He carefully took the picture from his friend and set it back on the floor where Cordy must have leaned it up against the wall. "Spike?" he asked gently.
"We’ve been tryin’," the other man whispered.
"To have a baby?" Angel clarified. That was where Spike’s fingers had lain, over Eva’s little face. The Slayer nodded. "And it hasn’t happened yet?" Another nod. "Have you been trying long?"
"Since the weddin’," he shrugged. Angel nodded, really not wanting the details.
"Well, that’s not so long Spike," he sighed.
"It’s not," the Slayer agreed with a slow nod, then glanced up at Angel. "But it’s forever too."
"Yeah, I guess," he could sympathize. In his life, he’d known the ache of wanting something with all his heart, only to be continually denied.
"The first time," Spike continued, "we were excited. And then there was a demon. Hit her, hard. Scared the piss outta me."
"Buffy went out patrolling when she knew she was pregnant?" Angel was aghast, but Spike was shaking his head.
"She was jus’ late," he shrugged. "She jus’ didn’t get a chance to tell me."
"Oh, I’m sorry."
"We jus’ shrugged it off, that first time," he continued. "There was so much goin’ on. Movin’, party, lookin’ fer work. The next time was normal. But this last time…"
"What about it?"
"We kept quiet," Spike turned his head away, his words quieter than before. "Didn’t want to jinx ourselves. And every day that passed, we’d get a little more excited." He turned to stare fully at the man he was confiding in. "Ya should ‘ave seen the light in ‘er eyes. So beautiful. She was so excited."
"And tonight?"
"’T wasn’t there anymore," he whispered brokenly. Angel closed his eyes. Just the thought of Eva having never been twisted his heart painfully. He couldn’t imagine how much worse this was for Buffy and Spike.
"Well Spike," he spoke slowly, not wanting to agitate him further. "Three months is not all that long to be trying. I know some couples try for a lot longer before it happens. I mean, not to be crude, but Buffy was late before. She was late again. You just keep trying and I’m sure it’ll happen eventually."
"Two an’ a half weeks," Spike mumbled.
"What?"
"This last time," he clarified. "She was two an’ a half weeks late."
"Oh."
"There’s gotta be somethin’ wrong!" Spike growled. "Somethin’ wrong with me."
"Or maybe Buffy," he suggested softly and instantly regretted it. Spike shot out of his chair, his hands slamming the larger man backwards onto his desk. He leaned above Angel, fury sparking in his eyes.
"Don’t say that!" he shouted. "It’s not her!" Angel grabbed Spike’s hands, clutching at his jacket. He exerted no small amount of force to push the Slayer back. He understood what Spike had been mumbling about earlier, how ‘it would kill her’.
"Why wouldn’t it be her?" he asked in low tones. Spike stared at him, uncomprehendingly for a moment, then deflated again.
"She came back wrong," he told the floor.
"From Heaven?" he asked cautiously. It would forever be a touchy subject in most ways. Spike nodded. "How do you mean, wrong?"
"We didn’t know then," he shrugged. "Jus’ knew that somethin’ was wrong. I could… hurt her, even with the chip. And she felt wrong."
"Did she get checked out?" Angel asked, concerned. He’d never known about this. The feelings and fears, yes, but he’d never given her physicality another thought aside from the most obvious ability to draw breath, to her once again beating heart.
"She had Glinda do some tests," Spike shrugged. "But witchy stuff. We never thought about this."
"Yeah, I can see that."
"But it’s not her," Spike argued. "It has to be me."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I was a Vampire you idiot!" he exploded. "An’ even before that. How the hell would I know if I could ‘ave fathered children?"
"Being a former Vampire has nothing to do with it," Angel snorted. "Look at me." Then he realized his mistake. He couldn’t use Connor or Eva as examples. He’d been a Vampire still.
"Oh yeah!" Spike snorted. "Golden boy here knocks a girl up and he’s the bloody perfect example for spontaneous fatherhood."
"Spike!" he warned, but it had little effect. "That aside, it could be you, it could be Buffy. If you’re really concerned, then you should be tested."
"Right! I’m not gonna wank off so some nosy little pervert can get his jollies!"
Angel held back a choke of laughter and turned his face away. "I ah, believe they give you a private room."
"Oh, yeah."
"Still, I’m saying, you should figure out for sure that there really is a problem before you give up," Angel counseled. Spike nodded resignedly.
"I’ll think about it," he sighed. Angel said nothing more. It was up to Spike to deal with this. And then there was his wife coming into the office. She glared down at the Slayer.
"Hey, thanks so much for being quiet and not waking my exhausted daughter up," she chirped mockingly.
"Sorry baby," Angel apologized immediately, knowing that he’d been louder than he should have at times. "Did she get back to sleep?"
It’s okay," she grinned suddenly. "She just fussed a little but went right down. I think she missed her crib." She turned to Spike. "I called Buffy." His head snapped up.
"’S she okay?"
"She’s not happy," Max grimaced. "She said that you didn’t come home from work. So she called and Lorne had said that you left. She found your car and a dead demon at the beach. Then she heard a noise and gave the phone to Dawn."
"Dawn’s up?"
Max nodded. "Told me that Buffy was about ready to fly off the handle. Said that she tried to go out searching for you a couple times, but Dawn kept hiding her cell phone to distract her."
"What’d you tell her?"
"Well, the noise was nothing, so Buffy got back on the phone, demanding to know why I was calling?" She shook her head. "I told her that you were here."
"What’d she say?"
"Wanted to know why. I told her that you’d found a second demon and tracked it back this way. You got scraped up some and knocked in the head. We saw you on our way home and stopped to help. Angel was patching you up while I called."
"She believe it?" he asked guardedly.
"Seemed to," Max nodded. "She wanted to drive over but Dawn apparently grabbed the car keys and told her she was too hysterical. So, if you’re done here, I’ll drive you home."
"You don’t ‘ave to-!" he began to protest. But Max cut him off.
"It’s okay," she told him firmly. "I think the best thing would be for you to get home." She paused and looked carefully at him. "She’s really upset and she needs you. And I think you need her too." Spike nodded slowly and stood up. He turned to face Angel and carefully offered his hand. Angel looked at him for a moment, before extending his own.
"Thanks mate."
"Any time."
Promises In The Dark
No comments:
Post a Comment