Honorable
Sons: 13
by Josie_h
Notes
F’Iaid was on their doorstep before Spike had even stirred. She rang a second time then waited without regard for time, suspicious that it might be her patient attempting to answer the door, rather than the somewhat drained carer.
Sure enough, an obviously stressed dark vampire stood (courtesy of heavily leaning on his wheelchair) before her. “Thanks for coming at such short notice…”
“Dis is serious, so I came.” Her matter-of-fact manner somehow calmed Angel as he ushered her through to the lounge and happily sank onto the couch. F’Iaid noticed the vampire’s worried glance toward the bedroom and the careful placement of the wheelchair next to the seating, apparently ready for immediate use.
Angel took an unnecessary breath and felt a prickling sensation through his spine as the dark witch turned her full focus on him.
“Why have you not contacted your… son…?”
“What? But Spike…”
“Your son not your Childe. Dis is a mos’ critical matter. He is very close and now you are becoming well, it may be he is reaching for you.”
“Conner is here? But he… we… to protect…” Angel’s voice faulted, “He’s… he’s at Stanford and… Oh God!! He doesn’t know we survived!” The stress channeled through the blood-link pulled Spike to consciousness. “What’s wrong? I mean… they haven’t got him… they could have… Oh Guhh! Is he OK?”
Spike wandered into the room nude, but for a low slung pair of ill fitting boxers. He stood leaning against the door, absently scratching his midriff. Vampire hearing had allowed him to take in much of the previous conversation.
“So you’re sayin’ that me ol’ Sire’s brat needs help? That’s what this is?”
Angel turned to stare at his Childe, “You knew?”
“Course I bloody knew – what you think Wes ‘n the rest of ‘em kept schtum on that sort o’ info?”
“But you’ve never… and I thought if you knew?!... Oh Will, I never meant to…”
“Oh get a bloody grip mate! You were so banged up, I was ‘ardly gonna bring up the wonder lad. ‘Sides I figure he got out an’ he’s safe, ‘n he’s family so… One more for the Aurelians, eh pet.”
Angel was overwhelmed. His Childe had known about Conner and the history that came with him, not only known, but had accepted without mention. He may not have understood all the details – even Angel doubted his own ability to do that! But the fact that his stunningly beautiful, faultlessly loyal, fearless lover had respected the need for silence on such a sensitive and hurtful personal matter, left Angel bereft of any normal response. At that moment, the love and respect he felt for his Childe was so profound that it hurt to his core. Angel inhaled unnecessarily, and on the exhale, slid into game face and let all the exhaustion and emotion of the past few hours, days and months, flood out along with the flow of silent, bloodied tears from the golden eyes.
F’Iaid watched in respectful silence, aware that this was a pivotal moment in Angel’s healing process that had seemed hitherto, all to slow in her opinion.
Spike moved to kneel between his Sire’s knees and grasped the larger hands in his own, kissing the back of each in turn. “You are my Sire. You are my everything. If we need to find the lad, then let’s do it, and quick smart. If you ever doubted my loyalty or my love for you and our clan then…” Angel’s passionate kiss cut him off completely. He pulled his mouth away and tugged his Childe up onto his lap, grasping him in tight hug. The two intertwined their limbs then locked teeth onto each other’s neck. They sucked, kissed and licked age old marks whilst rocking gently, instinctive reassurance of family fealty. Both vampires were apparently oblivious of their dark observer.
Finally Spike pulled away, wiped the tears from his Sire’s face and slapped his arm affectionately. “Yah daft ol’ bugger! Anyone’d figure you’re a chit the amount ya bin sobbin’ lately.”
Angel smiled weakly and replied with a hint of mirth in his words. “Yeah well, seem to remember you’ve been doing most of the fainting!” Spike growled with mock annoyance then turned to their, thus far ignored, onlooker.
“Right, so give us the where to’s for us to sort this. Why’s me ol’ Sire havin’ blood drenched dreams n’ gettin’ all fang happy all of a sudden? This jus’ about the kid or…?”
“I believe the son may be in some difficulty, it may or may not be physical. There is a bond between you all, yes?”
“Blood bond between me and the Sire – but don’t see as that would apply to the boy. He’s a pure blood but I don’t reckon the boy has snacked on ‘is dad of late – if ever?” Spike looked at Angel and saw the head shake indicating it had never happened.
F’Iaid answered as best she could, “As you say he is pure blood. Even with no exchange of life fluid, a bond will manifest when harshest emotions arise, or life is threatened. He is simply calling for family… I believe dat your proximity and Angel’s recovery may have renewed de connection.”
Angel’s look of anguish said it all.
“So what? We find the pup and all’s well?”
“It might be so yes. Or it may be that he needs your help.”
“Oh bloody hell!”
F’Iaid looked genuinely sympathetic, “I can perform a locator spell if you need it.”
Angel looked up knowingly. “As I said he’s at Stanford… Palo Alto… studying… at least he was last year, that’s some sort of a lead and if you say he’s close then…”
“Right well” Spike stood abruptly and headed for the study. Angel shifted into his chair, and rolled after him, F’Iaid moved to walk quietly alongside.
Angel and his regal companion entered the former ‘sickroom’ to observe Spike. The one hundred and thirty something vampire booted up the computer and did a quick Net search for Stanford and related files. “Can’t hack the records without Red, but I reckon all we need is some sort of fraternity - should give us an address, or ideas of what ‘e does for sport n’ such.”
Angel looked on with awe and pride as Spike spent the next half hour cross referencing Conner’s given name with accommodation files, student publications, lecture times and notes, university magazines, sporting teams and clubs, and fairly quickly, despite not ‘hacking’ the database, had a fairly accurate picture of where Conner *should* be on a day to day basis. He hit print, then looked up from the keyboard with a mildly smug grin, “Kid’s done well pet – here.” With that, Spike handed Angel a page containing a near perfect profile of Conner’s university lifestyle.
“Suggest you ring ‘is Uni digs first pet, Lambda Nu… number’s there. Figure he’s livin’ in from the varsity mag. ‘parrently he’s a bit of a high achiever. Got ‘is name all over the thing. Sure he’s really yours, pet?… Don’t recall you saying you were too flash at your studies?!” Spike had delivered the message with a wink and a smile, and Angel realized the ‘windup’ for what it was, so didn’t take the bait.
Angel, who had been staring at the proof of Spike’s statement on the page he was holding, finally looked up and smiled.
“Ring ‘em pet. It’s only 6.30 at night, they’re probably all just about at the dinner hall… just ask for the tutor on duty.”
“You never cease to amaze me Spike – how do you??...” Angel stopped mid sentence, “Oh… of course you and Cambridge and…”
“No not Cambridge, you git! That’s a real bloody university and we ate in our rooms most times! Red ‘n your golden girl, soldier boys, USC Sunnydale, you know, just figured ‘t would be the same here…”
Angel looked suitably sheepish, yet again he had overlooked his Childe’s long history with Buffy’s group. He picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello? Yes I am looking for Conner Reilly? Oh OK… yes, I’m one of his older relatives, just wanted to make contact as I’m in town… Of course… Liam Aurelius… It is sort of important, can you ask him to ring my home number 510 642 1425… Thanks… Um, Sure… Bye”
“Wanna go chase him pet?”
“Not yet.”
F’Iaid had been observing the proceedings from her position leaning against the traction table, “I believe you might need to wait for a time. Can I perhaps proceed with a review of your progress.”
Almost two hours later, Spike was standing in the kitchen heating a snack for them both. F’Iaid had departed and Angel was exhausted but happy.
F’Iaid had been pleased with his progress and acceleration of healing – despite his recent lack of sleep. Angel had done several laps of the hallway without assistance, and completed a number of somewhat successful attempts at a flight of stairs in the fire exit. ‘Somewhat’, because it seemed odd that going down somehow seemed harder than going up. Spike had chosen to stand ready during the ascent in case the muscles shaking with strain had failed. But Angel had made it without his Childe needing to assist. Going down was the problem, each time a foot left a step, his remaining knee felt too weak to support him, and he found himself gripping the rail so hard that the metal occasionally buckled. Yet he had made it to the bottom again – then determinedly repeated the exercise another two times.
“See pet, another week or two of this and you’ll give me a run for me money in that trainin’ room downstairs.”
Angel, though again sitting in his wheelchair, smiled in anticipation, knowing the goal had been set, but was prevented from answering by the shrill ring of the phone. Spike darted into the study to retrieve the call.
“Hello?...” Spike walked out toward his Sire.
“Yes, I’ll just get him.” He handed Angel the phone then stood beside the chair and placed a supportive hand on the shoulder of his partner.