Severed Dreams


by Rebecca
R.E.M. - Recalled Emotional Memories 7



"Miss Edith would like to hear another." the vampiress' soft voice stated. She sat on the thick rug by the fire, legs curled up underneath herself. The porcelain doll in a matching outfit to her own was cradled carefully in her lap. Drusilla held a brush in one hand, combing it through the doll's honey-coloured locks. "Yeah, Angelus, another," a second voice chimed in. Angelus looked into the sparkling blue eyes of his favourite childe. William lay on his back -- hands laced behind his head -- on the floor between where Dru played with her dolls and where Angelus reclined on a sofa. William raised one eyebrow slightly, accentuating his request. The three vampires were housebound due to the heavy downpour outside. It had been easy enough to find a residence suited to their needs once they'd been trapped outside in the rain. They posed as well-to-do travellers from out of town, unfortunately caught in the storm. The good samaritans who invited them in lived just long enough to regret their grave error. Hunger satiated for the moment, William stoked a fire and they relaxed, allowing its glow to warm their cool blood. The dark haired vampire had observed William brush Drusilla's hair for a while, and was pleased. His boy seemed to be taking to his younger childe, which was good news. Angelus did his best to encourage their relationship, knowing that William would be able to care for her when he was away, his charge being in a somewhat fragile state of mind. It hadn't taken long, though, for Angelus to tire of watching, and pull out his favourite book to help pass the time. Dru's eyes had lit up, and although William pretended not to be interested, Angelus saw the twinkle in his eyes... The vampire chuckled and looked down with affection and a fair amount of pride at his favourite. "What's the magic word, Will?" William made a show of thinking. "Now." he answered cheekily. Angelus had him up off the ground by his collar in an instant. "*Now*?" the vampire queried, his face aggressively close to the younger man's. William's eyes widened for an instant before they dropped submissively, dark lashes fluttering against pale skin. Dru looked up with interest from brushing Miss Edith's hair. "Know yer place, boy," the older vampire said in a pleasant voice, belying his threatening actions. "I- I- do, Angelus," William choked out. "Let's go over how ye *should've* answered tha' question... care t' attempt it again?" "Now.. sire..." his eyes raised just enough to look up through those sooty lashes. "...please?" Angelus groaned inwardly. He moved closer, brushing his slightly rough cheek against Will's smooth alabaster one, until his lips reached his ear. "Why d' I put up with yer insolence, Will?" "Because I'm your *favourite*.." William answered, making the word favourite as breathy as he possibly could. A small smile curved Angelus' lips. The older vampire slid over on the couch, simultaneously pulling William up next to him. He passed his errant childe the book, open where it had been left. "Now." He gestured to a passage halfway down the page. Angelus looked at Will, whose eyebrow was raised in question. The dark vampire's lips itched to smile, but he settled for a look of tiresome acceptance. "Please." Will grinned, eyes sparkling, and he began to recite the lilting verse after shooting Dru a salacious smile, but not before interlacing his fingers with his sire's... + + + + + Angel was jolted out of his reminiscing reverie by his office door opening with a jolt, muffling Cordelia's indignant exclamation. Even thought he entrance was abrupt and violent, he did all he could to reign in the automatic response to smile, instead opting for a look of tiresome acceptance. "You wanted something, Spike?" The blond vampire seemed offset for a moment, before regaining his composure, but he still remained silent. Angel half-stood from behind his desk and looked out his door. "You didn't terrorise anyone on your way here, did you?" He observed Cordelia overseeing Wesley as he cleaned the coffee from the floor, that spilt when it was rudely knocked over. The older man looked back over to Spike. "I hope for your sake that doesn't permanently mark the floor." This comment prompted some action from the other man. Spike screwed his face up in distaste. "Fuck, you are *such* a pussy. As I don't live and breathe, I feel the demon being sucked outta me just by being in the same room as you." There was a condescending sneer on his face, that somehow didn't reach his eyes. They were wild and bright... glistening with a deep-seated hurt and rage that had only just been realised. Angel raised his eyebrow, trying to gauge what had set his childe off. Which, knowing his temperament, could be anything. Spike snorted. "Ah, the brow's furrowing, I can see you're having trouble following the plot. Well lemme give you the summary." With that, he flung the heavy book onto Angel's desk. The dark haired vampire drew his hands back quickly to prevent his fingers being flattened. A scolding word was on his tongue, but it died when he saw the book. He remembered. It didn't take longer than a second to read the implications of Spike finding this book. He answered in the best way he possibly could. "Oh." "Got it in one, tosser." He ran his fingers over the edge of the slightly worn cover, fibres rubbing against the soft skin of the pads of his fingers, attempting to figure out what he could possibly say. "I-" "You *what*, Angelus?" Spike interrupted. "Because as far as I can see, you've kinda fucked up big time, and don't really have a leg to stand on." Angel's heart constricted painfully. Looking at his childe, he knew what he was feeling.. the anger and the betrayal was as tangible as if he were experiencing it himself. "Spike, maybe if you calm down...." he flinched, knowing that the blond would not agree to the suggestion and cut him off. He was right. "I don't think there's much of a chance of me calming down about this, Peaches, d'you?" Spike fixed his sire with a burning gaze, silencing him. The blond's countenance relaxed into a bemused expression. But Angel wasn't fooled. He'd always been able to read his childe, the eyes always gave him away. In Spike's eyes he saw sadness.. and heart-wrenching disappointment. "So, I'm tossing up whether to hear you out," the blond casually walked around Angel's office, and picked up a small vase. "because I think it'd be quite amusing. Or," he pinned the dark vampire with his eyes. "maybe we'll just never speak of this again. I think that'll be pretty easy from your end if I rip out your fucking tongue, eh?" He smiled -- a little too happily -- before hurling the vase at the older man's head. Angel ducked, to have the ceramic object plough into the blinds behind him and crack the glass. He looked at Spike's eyes. There was nothing there now but fury. The blond grabbed another item, a statuette, and hurled it towards the same place. This burst through the already damaged blinds and smashed the window, allowing the deadly afternoon sun in. Angel leapt out of the way before he was singed. He whipped his head around to witness Spike begin to reduce his office to a warzone. The dark haired vampire was having a serious case of dejavý, and not surprisingly, so was Spike. The younger man rampaged. He tore through his sire's office, breaking, destroying, ruining. It wasn't even a case of having to fight the tears coursing down his face -- they did not come. That was for later, just before he ran himself through with something nice and wooden. Wesley poked his head inside the office a fearful look on his face, Cordelia behind him. "Get out!" Angel barked, waving the ex-Watcher and his secretary out. "Angel-" Wesley started, trying to speak over the din of a toppling bookshelf. "Out!" the vampire repeated. "I'll handle this." "Bull you will!" Cordelia shouted. "You've got to get out of there before he tears you to pieces, too!" That much was true. Spike was systematically destroying anything he could get his hands on.. and Angel knew better than to underestimate his childe. He glanced at the door again, and the wide band of sunlight from the broken window blocking his exit that way... the other way was blocked by a frenzied demon. Angel stood his ground, until Spike turned his wild eyes towards the pair at the door. Even with the chip, he could still probably do some damage before it incapacitated him. The older vampire decided he needed to act. "Spike, stop it!" he growled, advancing on his childe. The blond ignored him, punching a hole through a cabinet on his way to the door. "Spike, *now*." He snarled. This was enough to shake the vampire out of his destructive madness. He slowly turned to face his sire. "*Now*?" he queried. "D'you think with a word, this is over? You think you fucking control me like you used to? Do you think I can just stop when YOU TELL ME TO?!" "Will..." Angel's face softened. "..please?" The ridges formed quite unexpectedly in comparison to his smooth human features while he had been tearing the place up. "MY. NAME. IS. SPIKE." He thundered, before ploughing through Wes and Cordelia towards the door. Kicking it viciously, he pulled the collar of his duster over his head, he ran out into the sunlight, heading for his car parked across the street. Angel pushed past his coworkers to get into the main office. He looked through the open door as the blond revved the engine of his DeSoto and sped off. All he could do was watch. It seemed, in the end, that was all he could ever do. + + + + + 1898 He peeked through the door. It wasn't too hard, it was hanging off its hinges, having obviously seen better days. Or, better tempers. So had the room. Books, trinkets, pieces of furniture lay strewn everywhere. In the middle of the mess, Dru wept in a huddled ball on the rug. And around her, a tornado of demonic proportions ravaged the room. His Will became an animal, breaking anything he came into contact with. In that way, not that dissimilar to himself. A surge of guilt erupted in Angel's gut, and made him want to vomit. He had to keep reminding himself why he was here. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood of his whittled stake. It had to end. He brought these monsters into the world -- he could take them out again. Easier said than done. No, actually, even *saying* that hurt. Angel put his head in his hands and moaned softly, trying desperately not to fall apart. How could he live without his beloved childer? He had spent at least one hundred years molding them, teaching them. (to kill) [to read] (to hurt) [about poetry] (death) [existence] Angel's moaning grew louder. It felt as if his body were being torn in two from the inside out with indecision. But one thought stuck in his mind. He couldn't- no, *wouldn't* - kill his creations. They were demons, but they were nothing he had not made them to be, it was hardly their fault. The vampire watched as Will gathered his sobbing sibling in his arms. On the carpet, amidst the ruins of a room, two frightened children sought comfort in each other at their father's death. And he was, he *was* dead to them. Angel dropped the stake, and instead picked up the few possessions he'd salvaged before William had gotten home. Even with her prescience, Dru had been unable to sense him through the haze of her own grief. William looked up, and Angel caught his breath. It seemed like they had made eye contact, but it was too dark even with preternatural eyesight to see him. And then he saw them. They glistened on his cheeks. Clear tears, tinged pink with blood on dirty cheeks. Those azure eyes wept for Angel, they wept for Drusilla, and they wept for himself. Angel watched, his own sadness overpowering. He watched until he could take no more, and then disappeared into the night. ~fin

1