Honorable
Sons: 6
by Josie_h
Notes
“First you’re going to have to feed Sire.” Angel was about to protest when he saw from the corner of his eye that Spike had taken the warmed blood and finished all three packs quickly. Then, game face still in place, he opened his wrist wide with a savage bite, this time deep enough to hit the artery as well as slice through veins. He kept his mouth on the wound and moved over Angel. Staring down with golden eyes, he patted Angel’s cheek with his free hand until the vampire sighed and finally opened his mouth.
As Angel began to feed, Spike caressed and stroked the invalid through the white sheet that had been flung across his body for modesty sake in front of the others. As the feeding continued he pushed the cotton barrier away and ministered to pale flesh directly. He tickled around the nipples until they were hard nubs, then stroked down, circled and teasingly pushed into Angel’s extremely sensitive belly button. Access to his Sire’s neck was impeded so he licked, sucked and then bit just over the closest nipple as his hand continued to caress. Spike was hard from the feel of blood being pulled from his system but ignored his own needs for now.
He touched his Sire’s erect member and began repetitive feather light, and near frustrating, strokes from balls to now leaking tip. Starting to feel light headed with blood loss, the blonde was relieved as his Sire released the suction and licked the limb until the wound ceased bleeding.
“Gahhh, Spiiike…..”
With his Sire riding on the euphoria of feeding and the dual feeling of arousal, Spike knew he had to act quickly. He leaned up – never stopping the established pulsing of his hand over his Sire’s erection – and kissed him deeply, at once tasting his own blood mixed with his Sire’s flavour, whilst conveying his adoration in no uncertain terms.
He increased his ministrations and began to lave the length of the talon wound, occasionally rubbing his ridges over the older vampire’s skin and nicking the belly with razor sharp teeth. As he heard his Sire begin to pant, he increased the pace and the pressure, pinched a nipple with his free hand, and heard the groan as Angel’s climax began, at that he sunk his teeth three times deep and hard into the dark point of the still raw scar. Angel yelled his completion then screamed in agony as Spike poured one vial of the antidote after another into the open wound.
After the fourth vial, his Sire thankfully passed out.
As the seventh was poured into the open gash and bubbled its way to cleansing the vile poison within, Spike let the first tears fall.
Willow had entered the room at the first of Angel’s tortured cries and saw Spike’s distress build.
Moving in behind the blonde, she spooned his back to her and hugged tight, raising her hand to stroke silky strands now damp from the exertion and stress of the evening. Feeling the warm embrace, Spike could no longer hold in his anguish, and in a strange move, twisted inside the hug and pulled them both down until they knelt rocking in distress, his head on Willow’s warm shoulder, the young witch patting and caressing the sobbing vampire.
“Shhhh honey, you did great… you did great… C’mon, we need to be strong okay? Another four of those to go and he will start to heal and so can you…” She continued to rock and rub his back until the blonde calmed.
“So what now Red? You said it would get worse?”
Willow released her hold on the blonde and gently traced the fine cheekbones and stroked the face as one might a distressed younger brother.
“Yeah sweetie, it will get worse. But we’ll both be here OK. You’re not alone, and I’ll probably piss you off and get in your way and need you to give me a hug now and then but we’ll get through OK?” She stood and turned to leave.
“So how long before …”
“You have to re-administer? Um, I think two to three days, we kind of have to wait for this lot to really take effect. I’ll start doing a new batch late tomorrow anyways.” Willow left for the kitchen to check her supplies.
Spike slumped again. Patience had never been a particular strength of his, but waiting for the next ‘bad thing’ that might transpire with the curing of his Sire was pure torture. He did not have to worry for long.
Angel returned to consciousness with a strangled scream, then a snarl as his demon reacted to the pain. Willow hearing the cry had dropped all she was doing and returned. Spike was on his feet immediately stroking his Sire’s forehead while Willow stopped at the door, then ran for a towel and cool bowl of water, and more blood for Spike.
Angel’s demon features were to the fore and twisted in agony, bloodied tears streaming down either side of the restrained head and no recognition of his surroundings in the panicked golden eyes. He began to cry out repeatedly for William.
“Sire… Sire… It’s me, it’s your Childe…. Sire! It’s William… I’m here, it’s William, your boy… your favorite, I’m here…” But there was no recognition, and beads of sweat began to appear on the almost grey white forehead as the older vampire began to shiver uncontrollably. His game face fell away as the fever took hold, Spike grabbing his hand and squeezed to the point of breaking as a way of grounding them both.
Angel was floating in a sea of pain, unable to fight it past the horrors that had begun to envelop his fever stricken mind… Hell, he was in hell again, unspeakable acts, immeasurable pain, over and over and over… He saw himself torturing William, whipping him, demeaning him in front of others, buggering him, then he saw a beautiful love scene, with himself and his beautiful boy… worshipping each other in ways others could only imagine, adoring him, adoring him… until he saw his fangs sink into the receptive flesh and drain him, and then there was …. dust!
Spike felt his last two fingers break as the grip from his elder tightened through the latest onslaught, but in a way that helped. The constant whimpering, begging and hoarse howling from the bed, had the ache of fear in Spike’s chest well beyond its own fever pitch.
“Oh Goddess, Spike sweetie, look at me, come on honey, just focus on me for a minute.”
Spike heard the red head but was trapped by the scent of fear and pain, and wave after wave of agony and torment coming through the blood link from his Sire.
Willow pulled Spike’s face toward her and saw the glazed look in the crystal blue eyes. “Solamen!” Spike’s eyes cleared for a moment then tears began anew.
“Oh Red… Oh it’s hurting him *so much* Oh g…..” Spike was still firmly within the grasp of his shivering Sire, but buried himself into the warm, consoling embrace of the witch once more.
Despite the support at that moment, it could not last. And for Spike, the ensuing twenty four hours included transferred vague images of the deaths of Fred, Drusilla, Penn, Doyle, Cordelia, Wes, Gunn, Darla, and… himself …. The last laced with such hurt that Spike could do little but sob into Willow’s shoulder as she returned to the room to hug and pet the distraught male.
Much later and further into the fever, imagined images of Spike, Willow, Buffy and Connor dying at his hand plagued the dark vampire. Alternating between game face and soft features, Angel cried out and frequently succumbed to a sobbed appeal for clemency until he was hoarse, and there were no more tears to shed by the time he fell quietly unconscious again. Spike kept his vigil.
The blonde had eventually fallen asleep with exhaustion on the floor beside his Sire’s bed sometime early on the second morning, registering the change as his hand was released and thumped to the floor.
He stood to check the patient. What he saw was every carer’s dream… the untroubled features of a loved one in repose. Angel looked, in that moment, as if he had simply lived twenty years of a blessed and privileged life…
Willow was standing in the doorway, mortar and pestle in hand… “Oh…. Thank the goddess!!”
Spike turned to leave, registered that he was ‘seeing stars’ then hit the floor in a dead faint.