I Will Remember You -- Revisited

by Saber ShadowKitten
Revisited 5

Angel walked around the corner to the dead-end side-tunnel, frustration, confusion and anger in his steps. He saw Spike immediately rise from the cot that was pushed up against the back wall, the chain manacled to his ankle clinking as the blond vampire quickly took a few steps to shut off the battery operated television sitting on an ice chest across from the bed. The jeans-clad younger man then walked two steps towards Angel and stopped, his head down submissively.

The dark-haired vampire grabbed the ring of keys resting on the pipes at the entry of the side-tunnel and walked to Spike. He squatted and unlocked the manacle around his childe's ankle, stood and growled, "Let's go."

Spike led the way back to Angel's apartment, his bare feet silent on the moist tunnel floor. He ascended the ladder and was waiting beside the grate when Angel emerged. The older man grabbed Spike by the back of the neck and led him over to a set of chains hanging from where Angel's punching bag normally hung. Without prompting, Spike raised his arms, and Angel locked the manacles around his childe's wrists.

Angel patted Spike on the top of the head mockingly. "Good boy," he said, rounding the front of his childe.

"Woof, woof," Spike muttered, his head still down.

A cruel smirk tugged at Angel's lips a moment before his fist shot out in a hard uppercut, snapping Spike's head back. He followed up with a quick left cross to Spike's cheek, then a straight punch at the younger vampire's throat. Spike gagged and coughed at the hit to his larynx. Angel stepped back with his right foot and put his fists up, putting himself in a fighter's stance.

Then he proceeded to use his childe as a punching bag.

Growling quietly to himself, Angel tried to work through his emotions caused by Buffy's visit and his loss of being mortal again. His knuckles connected with Spike's bare flesh with satisfying smacks. Bruises began to form under his hits, and blood began to run down Spike's face.

Spike gasped and grunted with each hard blow, the sounds appeasing to Angel's ears. The dark-haired vampire drove his right fist in to the younger man's stomach. His left elbow came up and clipped Spike across the jaw, then he continued around to back elbow the blond with his right in the same spot.

He returned to prime for an instant before throwing his booted foot out in a side kick at the center of Spike's chest. The blond vampire swung back on his chains with the kick, the cracking of his cartilage echoing in Angel's home. Angel dropped his foot and drove a powerful fist into the same spot. Spike's breastbone shattered and he let out a loud growl of pain.

Angel continued his abusive tirade on Spike for over an hour, punching and kicking the chained vampire. Spike slipped into unconsciousness three-quarters of the way through. Angel's knuckles were as bruised and bloodied as his childe's battered body, yet he did not stop, for Buffy's pleasure-filled face as he made love to her again and again haunted his mind.

He could still see the pure happiness radiating in her eyes. He could remember the utter completeness he felt for the first time since they gave themselves to one another on her seventeenth birthday. With each drive of his fist, each snap of his leg, each sickening crunch of another of Spike's breaking bones, Angel sought to drive the feelings he felt for choosing duty over love.

Eventually, Angel dropped to the floor at his childe's feet, panting heavily and covered with sweat. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and sat there for several moments, waiting for the threat of tears to go away. Then he raised his head and looked at the bloodied body of Spike hanging limply from the chains.

Standing, he took the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the manacles on Spike's wrists, letting the blond drop to the ground unheeded. The younger vampire's body hit the floor with a hard thud. Angel stuck the keys back into his pocket, bent and grabbed Spike's arms, then dragged him to a corner of the large living area where another chain was lying in wait to be used.

Angel quickly locked his childe up again. He went into the bedroom and came out a moment later with an old sheet. Carelessly, he threw it over Spike, so the blond looked like little more than a dirty heap of laundry. Then he turned and headed for the bathroom, hoping to wash the pain of his aching heart down the drain.

End 1