159 Ficlet: Amnesia!Spike Scene
Feb. 26th, 2010 12:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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still_grrrTitle Amnesia!Spike Scene
Author dragonyphoenix
Rating PG-13
Word Count 993
Prompt 159 - LoveFest Free For All
Characters/Pairing (if any) Spike/Angel, Buffy
A/N: Scene I wrote for Mahaliem's Amnesia!Spike. I, naturally, did get Mahaliem's permission before posting.
“It’s almost morning. We’ll talk about this later. In the meantime, we’d better get to bed,” Buffy said.
“Angel can sleep with me,” Spike suggested.
Buffy stumbled on a stair. Angel began to cough noisily. “Know the cot’s small, but could scrunch up a mite.”
“No!” Taking a deep breath, Buffy added more calmly, “It’s too small. I’m sure Angel would be much more comfortable on the couch.”
Angel’s smirk was even bigger than before. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Shut up, Angel. You’re on the couch.” Buffy grumbled her way up the stairs, muttering, once again, to somebody who wasn't there or at least somebody Spike couldn't see. Spike hung his head and sighed. He glanced down the hall, towards the basement door, and then over to the couch where Buffy had said that Angel had to sleep. Alone. Family belonged together.
Smiling, Angel took Spike's hand and started down the hall. Spike stumbled behind, deliberately tripping over his own feet, not wanting to be alone, even for the night, after he'd finally found his family again.
As Angel started down the stairs, Spike looked up from the floor, confused, and pulled on Angel's hand to get his attention. Still smiling, he turned and put a finger over his lips in a shushing gesture. Spike looked thoughtful for a moment and then, grinning back, he quietly closed the door behind them and tip-toed down behind Angel.
When they reached the basement, although he didn't let go of Spike's hand, Angel flashed into vamp face and growled, “They dinna value ye.” Spike looked around and his heart sank. He'd been ashamed of the crypt but that, at least, had been his own place. This? This was a cot against the wall. Everything became too much for him: the memory loss; the terrible places he lived; nobody liked him. I must be a monster, he thought as he folded himself up against Angel and started crying
Letting his vampire features melt away, Angel tentatively petted at Spike's shoulder a couple of times. When Spike didn't back away snarling but instead burrowed closer in, Angel wrapped him in a tight hug. Angel held him there, the hug giving way to tentative pats and then long strokes down Spike's back until, by the time Spike's tears began to lessen, Angel was rubbing along the small of his back. After Spike had wiped most of the tears from his cheeks, Angel pulled him in and kissed him, full on the lips. Spike seemed surprised at first but returned the kiss. Mouths opened and Angel's tongue slipped in.
Shocked as Spike tensed up, Angel broke off the kiss, leaning back but still holding onto Spike, who looked as if he were struggling for words. “You want me even though I'm ugly?
Angel's grip tightened. “Who told you you're ugly?”
Spike looked at Angel with guileless blue eyes. “It's OK. I'd rather know than not.”
“You're not ugly.” Angel could tell Spike didn't believe him. He gazed at Spike for a long moment. How could he not know he was beautiful? He could he know? No reflection. Letting Spike go, Angel started scanning the basement. Spike slumped over a bit until Angel asked him for paper.
At Spike's confused look, Angel repeated, “Paper. And a charcoal stick, or, um, pen. Crayon. Anything.”
Not knowing why Angel wanted them, Spike turned up a pad of paper and a pen that Dawn had carried down there, making a list of appropriate snacks. Not that he'd paid attention to it. Spike knew that cookies and milk weren't a healthy snack for a growing girl.
After Angel had sat himself down on the cot, Spike watched as his hand moved across the paper. Curious and uncertain, he leaned in more closely. It didn't look like he was writing. Angel looked up, watched Spike for a moment before he opened his arms, saying, “Come here.” Clambering into Angel's arms, his back against the broad chest, Spike watched as Angel started drawing again. Under Angel's confident strokes, the head started filling out with recognizable features. That can't be me, Spike wondered, noting that the drawing had his own hair. Spike watched in silence as Angel continued to draw finally finishing off two heads, both with the same face but one with Spike's hair and the other with hair that was both longer and darker, as well as, to the right, a full body pose of a man dressed in Spike's clothes, with the same face as the other two images.
Angel handed the pad over and Spike's fingers hovered just above the page. “That's you,” Angel whispered. Spike's fingers brushed along the paper, following the contours of his body. He glanced up at Angel, wonder in his eyes, before looking back down at himself.
They sat like that, Spike looking at the drawings and Angel watching Spike, until the birds started singing. “We should try to get some sleep,” Angel nuzzled into Spike's ear.
Brought back to himself, Spike leaned happily into Angel until his words registered. Twisting in the arms that held him until they both were face-to-face, Spike asked, “Sleep?”
With an embarrassed look, Angel answered his unasked question. “I didn't realize how much you'd forgotten.” Brushing a hand reassuringly through Spike's hair, he added, “It wouldn't be right, you not knowing who you are.”
Taking that in, Spike responded with a baleful look.
“After you get your memories back,” Angel answered.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Now let's get some sleep,” Angel added after Spike had walked him through pinky swearing.
Angel took the back of the cot, against the wall, his arms around Spike who was scrunched up against him. After Angel had fallen asleep, wrapped in the strong scent of family that was a comfort them both, Spike, every couple of minutes, opened his eyes and brushed his fingers across the page, until he finally joined Angel in sleep.
Author dragonyphoenix
Rating PG-13
Word Count 993
Prompt 159 - LoveFest Free For All
Characters/Pairing (if any) Spike/Angel, Buffy
A/N: Scene I wrote for Mahaliem's Amnesia!Spike. I, naturally, did get Mahaliem's permission before posting.
“It’s almost morning. We’ll talk about this later. In the meantime, we’d better get to bed,” Buffy said.
“Angel can sleep with me,” Spike suggested.
Buffy stumbled on a stair. Angel began to cough noisily. “Know the cot’s small, but could scrunch up a mite.”
“No!” Taking a deep breath, Buffy added more calmly, “It’s too small. I’m sure Angel would be much more comfortable on the couch.”
Angel’s smirk was even bigger than before. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Shut up, Angel. You’re on the couch.” Buffy grumbled her way up the stairs, muttering, once again, to somebody who wasn't there or at least somebody Spike couldn't see. Spike hung his head and sighed. He glanced down the hall, towards the basement door, and then over to the couch where Buffy had said that Angel had to sleep. Alone. Family belonged together.
Smiling, Angel took Spike's hand and started down the hall. Spike stumbled behind, deliberately tripping over his own feet, not wanting to be alone, even for the night, after he'd finally found his family again.
As Angel started down the stairs, Spike looked up from the floor, confused, and pulled on Angel's hand to get his attention. Still smiling, he turned and put a finger over his lips in a shushing gesture. Spike looked thoughtful for a moment and then, grinning back, he quietly closed the door behind them and tip-toed down behind Angel.
When they reached the basement, although he didn't let go of Spike's hand, Angel flashed into vamp face and growled, “They dinna value ye.” Spike looked around and his heart sank. He'd been ashamed of the crypt but that, at least, had been his own place. This? This was a cot against the wall. Everything became too much for him: the memory loss; the terrible places he lived; nobody liked him. I must be a monster, he thought as he folded himself up against Angel and started crying
Letting his vampire features melt away, Angel tentatively petted at Spike's shoulder a couple of times. When Spike didn't back away snarling but instead burrowed closer in, Angel wrapped him in a tight hug. Angel held him there, the hug giving way to tentative pats and then long strokes down Spike's back until, by the time Spike's tears began to lessen, Angel was rubbing along the small of his back. After Spike had wiped most of the tears from his cheeks, Angel pulled him in and kissed him, full on the lips. Spike seemed surprised at first but returned the kiss. Mouths opened and Angel's tongue slipped in.
Shocked as Spike tensed up, Angel broke off the kiss, leaning back but still holding onto Spike, who looked as if he were struggling for words. “You want me even though I'm ugly?
Angel's grip tightened. “Who told you you're ugly?”
Spike looked at Angel with guileless blue eyes. “It's OK. I'd rather know than not.”
“You're not ugly.” Angel could tell Spike didn't believe him. He gazed at Spike for a long moment. How could he not know he was beautiful? He could he know? No reflection. Letting Spike go, Angel started scanning the basement. Spike slumped over a bit until Angel asked him for paper.
At Spike's confused look, Angel repeated, “Paper. And a charcoal stick, or, um, pen. Crayon. Anything.”
Not knowing why Angel wanted them, Spike turned up a pad of paper and a pen that Dawn had carried down there, making a list of appropriate snacks. Not that he'd paid attention to it. Spike knew that cookies and milk weren't a healthy snack for a growing girl.
After Angel had sat himself down on the cot, Spike watched as his hand moved across the paper. Curious and uncertain, he leaned in more closely. It didn't look like he was writing. Angel looked up, watched Spike for a moment before he opened his arms, saying, “Come here.” Clambering into Angel's arms, his back against the broad chest, Spike watched as Angel started drawing again. Under Angel's confident strokes, the head started filling out with recognizable features. That can't be me, Spike wondered, noting that the drawing had his own hair. Spike watched in silence as Angel continued to draw finally finishing off two heads, both with the same face but one with Spike's hair and the other with hair that was both longer and darker, as well as, to the right, a full body pose of a man dressed in Spike's clothes, with the same face as the other two images.
Angel handed the pad over and Spike's fingers hovered just above the page. “That's you,” Angel whispered. Spike's fingers brushed along the paper, following the contours of his body. He glanced up at Angel, wonder in his eyes, before looking back down at himself.
They sat like that, Spike looking at the drawings and Angel watching Spike, until the birds started singing. “We should try to get some sleep,” Angel nuzzled into Spike's ear.
Brought back to himself, Spike leaned happily into Angel until his words registered. Twisting in the arms that held him until they both were face-to-face, Spike asked, “Sleep?”
With an embarrassed look, Angel answered his unasked question. “I didn't realize how much you'd forgotten.” Brushing a hand reassuringly through Spike's hair, he added, “It wouldn't be right, you not knowing who you are.”
Taking that in, Spike responded with a baleful look.
“After you get your memories back,” Angel answered.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Now let's get some sleep,” Angel added after Spike had walked him through pinky swearing.
Angel took the back of the cot, against the wall, his arms around Spike who was scrunched up against him. After Angel had fallen asleep, wrapped in the strong scent of family that was a comfort them both, Spike, every couple of minutes, opened his eyes and brushed his fingers across the page, until he finally joined Angel in sleep.
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