Liliaeth (liliaeth) wrote,

Fic: Clipped Wings(2/?)

Title: Clipped Wings
Author: Lore
Rating: R (for implied violence and rape)
Pairings: starts out as B/A, includes very dark present time spangel and ends up B/S
Summary: AU s5, Angel has everything he wants, power, prestige, Buffy ... so why isn't it enough?
Notes: This was an experiment at using the fade to black. Small warning, Angel is very nasty in this one.

His whole world was pain. Pain, fear, loathing...

Angel hadn't been by in a while. He wasn't sure how long. They never told him what time it was, how much of it had passed, it didn't matter. He didn't matter. His gut hurt, straining for food, for something, anything. But they wouldn't feed him, Angel was the only one who'd keep him from starving. He almost wished his sire would make another visit, at least then...
He lay down on his side; the bruises on his back hadn't fully healed yet. He closed his eyes, barely listening to the music that one of the guards had put on when they'd brought him to the room.

Angel. Where was he, the... Angel would come.

The door opened and he sat up, remembering just in time to move to his knees, kneeled, eyes bowed down.

No Angel.

One of the guards turned off the music and ordered Spike to his feet. His ears were still ringing, but Spike obeyed. There was no use in refusing.

Getting dressed in white scrubs, easy access, even easier cleaning. Spike lifted his arms as they pulled the shirt over his chest.


Lifting first one foot, then another, waiting for them to undo the cock harness before pulling up the pants. Wanting to touch, wanting to, no Angel's; can't, can't, Angel will...

Minutes later he was finished, waiting in the white cell.

"It's what you deserve" Angel had said. That first day, getting his just rewards.

He'd followed Angel down, weak, unsettled with his recent death and return. Sire had seemed certain, knowing what to do. They'd walked down the stairs, one floor, two, three. He'd had to lean on Angel not to fall over. But Angel had held him steady.


No not yet.

The white room had been empty then.; ready for him to step inside its trap, ready and waiting and never letting go.


Angel had to force himself to stay in the room. He loved Buffy, he really did, but he just didn't get what was so interesting about the movie she was watching.
Sure the fight scenes were almost alright, but ....

Buffy was watching avidly saying the lines along with the character. "As you wish."

What was that supposed to mean anyway?

Buffy reached out for him, but he told her he'd remembered something he had to do.

"Just tell me all about it later allright?"

Buffy sank back on the couch and Angel got out as fast as he could. He wasn't even sure what he was planning to do, simply wandering the halls of the building, down the stairs, until he reached Spike's guards.

Back in the white room the vampire was waiting for him. Angel could see the boy looking at him. It had been almost five days since he'd last been down here.

Angel didn't even bother with words this time, he was bored enough as it were. Spike's skin darkened under his fists, rolling up like the little rat he was while Angel kicked his stomach, legs and head.

It was like the best stress ball he'd ever gotten, he could feel more and more tension leave his body with every hint of contact between his fists and feet and Spike's flesh.

And he hadn't even begun.


Buffy sat on the couch, holding her legs. Tired, alone and knowing this couldn't go on like this.

She'd tried, really, trying to get Angel to talk, spending time with him. She'd even gone along to a hockey game, as boring as it was. All in the hope that she'd been wrong. It just didn't work.

It was ok as long as they just sat together, but she started to realize, more and more, they weren't silently comfortable with each other, as much that they just didn't have anything to say.

She wondered what was wrong with her, did she annoy Angel? Was she too childish for him? What did she do wrong? Whatever it was, it was making the both of them unhappy and that's the last thing she'd ever want.

It was odd, the more time she spent with Angel, the less it felt like she actually knew him. Sure the brooding was familiar, the silence, the seriousness, but there were jokes he said that didn't make sense, times he expected her to know something and she was so far off the road to understanding that she was wandering somewhere in nowhere lands.

She'd tried to ignore it, he had spent lots of time with Cordy after all, but... There were only so many times that a woman could see her man get distracted during sex before she knew that the gig was up and she'd better get out before he'd ask her to dress up like someone else.
Oh God, it was like the whole cookie speech all over again, and this time she didn't even have Spike waiting for her in the basement to give her the strength to go through with it.

"Harmony where's Angel?"

The blonde was sitting behind her desk, doing her nails. She looked up, a huge smile on her lips and probably destroyed a few, hopefully not too important, papers when she put her wet nails down right on top of them.

"He's probably back in the basement, he spends a lot of time there."

"Basement, what is it with vamps and basements." Buffy muttered, not even looking at Harmony.

"Well they're dark and comfy and easily warmed and uhm, you weren't really asking me, were you?"

Buffy nodded no, but otherwise ignored her. She barely even waited for Harmony to give her directions.


It was almost scary to realize how easy it was to hate the lump of flesh at his feet. Undead copycat that he was. It was like hitting Angelus, or the closest copy of his demon remaining of his old days of terror. All the victims they'd made, all the innocents they'd killed together. All because Spike wanted to impress Angelus, because he wanted to be Angelus.

Lashing out was like looking in a mirror and hitting it in the face for all the guilt he himself carried with him, every day, every second of his existence.

Spike was ghastly white, silent, incoherent and Angel finally settled down next to him, taking the boy's bloodied head on his lap. His fingers played with blood mangled curls and he wondered once again if he should have the hair shaved off for easier cleaning. He never did, the longer the curls got, the more soothing they were.

Spike almost purred under his touch, some part, underneath the fear still trusted his sire, it was almost cute and Angel couldn't help give in and petting the poor deluded boy. He pulled up his face and made a small cut in his breast, letting Spike drink from the source of his existence. Sure, Dru might have sired him, but it was Angelus that weaned him into life, that took his hand and made him into whatever now sat down at his feet.

"Buffy says hi, she wanted to come over and hit you herself but I don't know if you've earned that yet. I guess I should stake you for touching her, but hey, it was nice that she had some kind of a toy to play me." He whispered the next words with a sense of reverence as if worshipping Buffy. "It must have been immensely convenient for her that you were around. Just cold enough so she could close her eyes and have me take her in her mind."

Spike stopped drinking and looked away. Broken, he looked like a child, begging for mercy.

Angel gently placed a kiss on his fingers. "I showed her those pictures I took the last time, she couldn't stop laughing."

Spike whimpered.

Angel quickly looked up as he heard one of the guards muffled voice responding too…


He couldn't quite hear what was said and got up, leaving Spike lying on the floor. He barely bothered to wash his hands, wiping a wet cloth over his face. Hoping beyond hope that his dark clothes would hide the blood from her. He didn't even look back as he went up the stairs, hoping to stop her before she got too far.

Buffy stopped and looked at him, sad, but…

"Angel, we have to talk."


Spike stared at them, his mind too broken to hear their words, all he could think was Buffy, Buffy with Angel, coming to… Should have known that Angel wouldn't just leave the door open, now would he?

Part of him wanted to crawl back and beg Angel for forgiveness for ever even trying to think of escaping, the rest of him ran, rushing through dark basement halls and hoping for salvation.


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