Honorable
Sons: 8
by Josie_h
Notes
All too soon, Willow was stroking Spike’s forehead and coaxing him to consciousness. F’Iaid was standing at the doorway ready to assist.
“What’s your dark princess bloody doin’ here?” Spike’s words brought a blush to Willow’s face, but she shifted to ‘business’ mode quickly to cover her very real attraction to the ebony beauty watching them.
“She’s here to help with the traction bed, and also to assist with the next treatment.”
At the last statement, Spike immediately went into game face, sat up to shield his Sire from the dark woman’s gaze and growled. “She’s not bloody coming *near* Sire in anytime! No F#$ing way! Don’t care who she is… Queen of bloody Sheeba, she doesn’t come near! Not while he’s feverin’!…You hear me Red?!!... *I* help Sire, it’s mine to do… No one else!” The game face melted away and the posturing ceased as Spike shrank back with tear-filled blue eyes, and in every passing second thereafter, resembled the thousands of other carers of critically ill family members worldwide… all desperate to do whatever was needed to see their loved ones healed, clinging to slivers of hope, and defiant to the last, foregoing their own needs regardless of extreme circumstances.
“It’s OK Spike…. It’s OK!! F’Iaid will only come in if needed, and otherwise she is going to help me with the antidote, you know, so we can do this more quickly…. Spike, *please* honey!… This is going to be hard enough as it is, without you going all ‘Grrrr’!”
Spike looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes and shed a blood tinged tear of sheer frustration with the ‘whole damned business’, then stormed off the bed to the sanctuary of the en suite, slamming the door hard as he sought privacy for a few minutes in order to regain his composure.
Willow and F’Iaid exchanged a patient look and retreated to the kitchen to chill that night’s antidote ready for use. Then they heated the blood Spike was going to need so desperately if he was to get through the next few hours relatively unscathed.
Willow looked across shyly at her fellow wiccan, who had begun to seek the ingredients in cupboards for batch number three, “Thank you for staying.”
“You are mos’ welcome esteemed mistress.” Said the elegant medico.
“Ooh I am not so esteemed! You are much wiser and stronger than me… and older? You *must be*. I can feel you and your aura is … gold!”
“As is yours to me, Willow. We are kindred spirits.” F’Iaid’s voice dropped to a whisper, “After all dis, let me show you why…” She smiled, the brilliant white teeth and green eyes contrasting the rich black of her skin. Willow took on the appearance of a deer caught in headlights, then smiled back.
Spike chose that moment to appear at the end of the kitchen bench, towel firmly tied around himself and thankfully more the blue eyed Childe than the demon of the previous argument. “So what’s the plan?”
“More of the same sweetie…” Willow dropped her gaze to the floor and her tone along with it… “Are you OK with that?... ‘Cause you know we can…”
“*No*!!! *I’m doin’ it.*Saved* the bloody world at least twice, and I *can* do this!”
His eyes flashed yellow again “It’s family witch! It’s me and me Sire, and it’s family! So let’s get started.” Spike spun around and returned to the bedroom to collect Angel.
The older vampire was awake when Spike entered. “Hey pet you’re up.” The trademark smirk and eyebrow wiggle had Angel lifting his head to note that, if he hadn’t quite managed a morning erection when Spike entered, he certainly had one now!
“When we get over all this, I swear….!”
Spike dropped onto the bed and gave his Sire a long, passion filled, and exuberant kiss. As he pulled away Angel looked a little puzzled.
“You said *when* pet…. You said *when*…” Spike fixed the older vampire’s chocolate stare with a blue one, filled with such adoration and love that Angel reached a weakened arm up and pulled him into a close hug, whispering, “For you Spike, all because I love you… Not gonna leave you, never again…”
They held the hug for several seconds until Spike pulled away with a loud sniff and a simple, “Right, let’s start gettin’ to that ‘when’, shall we?”
Spike slid his hands under his Sire’s hips and shoulders, and gently lifted the invalid. Cradling Angel to his chest, he felt the tension rise as they approached the ‘sickroom’, so whispered to him, “Just imagine what we can do on that mahogany desk when you’re well… promise I’ll be the one leanin’ on it.” Angel lifted his head momentarily and saw the lascivious grin, returned it with a slight smile and, more importantly, relaxed a little.
Willow had delivered the blood and medicine to the room already. F’Iaid dutifully hooked up the paralyzed body to the traction as Spike drank his fill, then she withdrew. After that, Spike was left to repeat the process of three days ago.
He paused.
“Just do it Spike… please… just… no precursors this time just bite and do it!” The desperation in Angel’s voice, such a contrast to the previous relaxed hours, almost undid the blonde.
He took an unnecessary breath and opened his wrist for his Sire. As the older vampire began to drink, he plunged forward biting hard and deep into the dragon wound, then swiftly poured in the anti-venom. Angel had pulled off the feeding immediately. Spike, agonized by the pain through the link and the sight of the tortured loved one in front of him, ignored the screams of his Sire, and continued to wash the wound with the pain inducing liquid until every vial was empty.
As his Sire retreated from pain into unconsciousness with the last vial, Spike’s legs gave out. He curled up on the floor in a fetal position, sobbing and rocking himself a little. Willow found him an hour later, still on the ground, all cried out but continuing to chant a desperate mantra… “Three to go, three more to go. Oh God in heaven, let it work. Please! Three to go, just three more to go.”
Forty eight hours passed much as before. Spike rallied and tended to his Sire. Four hours respite as Angel regained his lucidity, a bath and a short nap, then the whole thing was repeated. F’Iaid stayed, Willow appreciated, Spike… survived.
The third time. They removed the still unconscious patient from the bed and bathed him, but returned him directly to the sick room to ready him for another ‘round’. Spike kissed his Sire sadly and bit the torso yet again. They rode out almost fifty hours of hallucinations, screams and desperate crying… more often than not, Spike joining his Sire in the tears.
The forth time. Angel had a sponge bath, remained unconscious and was not even moved. Eventually he woke to see the Childe he was feeding from appearing almost wraith-like with black rings around desperate eyes. Smiling as best he could to the begging blue orbs observing him, he muttered his ‘Thanks’, then gave in to the blackness as yet another treatment began.
Willow and F’Iaid determined that the recovery time was stretching longer and longer, so applied the final treatment to Angel even though he had not regained full consciousness after number four. Spike did his part by biting as he had done so many times before, but then curled onto the floor, chin on his knees and withdrew to one of the dark recesses of the room sobbing, “I can’t… I can’t … please don’t make me… Oh Guuhhh… I can’t… Sire I’ve failed you… Oh Sire… Sire.”
Willow administered the antidote, realizing as Angel arched in agony with each successive vial, just what Spike had endured for the last two weeks. She and F’Iaid tag teamed with Spike through the final round of fever, but the final twelve hours were exclusively the blonde’s.
He had held Angel in a tight embrace for the last few hours, growling loudly in full game face when either of the women approached. He held tight, despite the violent dreams and extreme convulsions. Finally his Sire had calmed, and Spike slept awkwardly, perched on the narrow bed as close as he could manage to the older vampire despite the traction harness.
“Pins and Needles.” Spike jolted awake and as a direct result, unfortunately fell off the bed.
Full game face to the fore, he stood up “Bloody Hell!.... What?” Yet he saw the wonder and excitement in Angel’s face, and dropped immediately into human guise.
“Pins and Needles… I’ve got them in my feet… oh… G…. it’s… Oh Spike!... I can feel them! It’s only a tiny…but…”
Spike stood and wandered to the end of the bed in a daze. With tears streaming down his face, he gently cupped the previously inert feet in each hand and gave them a squeeze.
He was rewarded with a tiny movement of toes on each, and yelled for the witches to attend, through tears of sheer joy and relief.