Angel whispered soft words in his ear; Spike could feel it by the softness of his breath touching his broken eardrums. No sounds, just a soft wind. He could not move towards that breath, he could not move, but Angel's mouth rested on his neck, his lips suckling on his skin. Spike lay bound on the bed, bound by his own self. He couldn't even moan as Angel picked up his body.
"Sire" he wanted to say, but all that came out was a gurgle.
Angel undressed him, Angel bathed him.
And Spike couldn't even cry.
He had no eyes.