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Rewriting the Past	By : AddictedtoBuffy Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Spike(William) > Angel(us)/Spike(William) Views: 3215 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Rewriting the Past
- 1
Title: Rewriting the Past
Author: AddictedtoBuffy
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Summary: ‘I feel like I’m going crazy.’ Angelus is cursed with a soul in the woods of Rumania. What if he made a different decision that night.
Beta: A huge thanks to the talented Bubbysbub who puts up with me switching tense in the middle of a sentence.
Feedback: Please, please, please. I crave it
Part: 1/1
Distrubution: Ask and you will receive
Warnings: ANGST and M/M vampire sex.
Home page: I have a yahoo group. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ForeverAngel/

Rewriting the Past

What? Where am I? I don’t understand. I’m outside at night on grass. The last thing I remember was following a gorgeous lady into an alleyway, so how did I end up here? A man walks up to me and starts talking down at me, something about killing and a curse… I don’t know what he’s… oh, oh I remember. I remember everything. I killed them, I killed dozens of people, hundreds of people. Children, nuns, plenty of nuns, men and women. Oh I’ve raped so many. How could I? I should be in hell. I killed my family, my little sister. Oh God.

I crawl off into the forest to attempt to work out how this has come to pass. The guilt of all these faces, all the lives I stopped is overpowering. I feel like I’m going crazy. How could I have killed so many people? It would take more than a lifetime to kill that many people. Wait a minute, I drank their blood. Why did I drink their blood? I fall down in absolute shock as the answer comes to me. They are real, those monsters that my father warned me about. He told me that if I continued to drink and whore around a devil would take me.

Well he was right a devil did come for me, a devil in the disguise of a beautiful lady and she made me into a demon. I remember I made others into vampires, I condemned them to the same fate as myself and I committed sodomy. I remember my pastor arguing that it is the greatest sin a man could commit but it seems to pale in comparison to rape and murder.

I stumble around in the forest completely lost. I’m having trouble remembering what year it is and what country I’m in so it is understandable that I can’t find my way through the woods. I feel a prickling up my spine and some sense tells me that it means the sun will be up soon. I think… no, I know vampires are allergic to the sun. They literally combust. Maybe I should find my way out of the forest and into the open where the sun can take me. Two faces flash in front of my eyes, my youngest Childe and her Childe. William, who I remember taking under my wing, teaching him how to be vicious. Oh God, how could I do that? I should end it right now but… those two faces I can see clearly in my minds eye stop me from finding a branch. I stumble on and find myself suddenly on a road. Oh I know where I am. The latest den of Darla’s is just up the road, I can make it by daybreak easily. After that I don’t know what I will do. It’s just too much, I can feel all of these presences trying to make themselves known but if I think about it I will go insane. I remember reading a quote or scrap of poetry somewhere that went

Death is a song we all must dance too

But right now I feel like the song is coming to an end and death wants paying.

I focus on walking, one step in front of the other. I let nothing else invade my thoughts except foot, in front of foot, in front of foot. I finally managed to make it to our lair. I hope my Sire is not in, I don’t think I can deal with her. After all, it’s her fault that I am in this predicament. I finally manage to fall through the door into the house and images of my last victim flood through my mind. Oh God, how could I? I stumble through the house unseeing, only remembering all the pain I’ve caused ten fold. I don’t know how long I huddle against the wall before I hear Darla walk in.

"Angelus? Are you here? Angelus?" I stay where I am, not sure that I can face her but I know she moves closer until I can feel her presence in the room with me and I can’t help but speak.

"Not everyone screams."

"What?"

"When you kill them. Some… just stand there,… frozen... While others..." I remember them, all those who pleaded, begged, those who screamed and soiled themselves and those who would do anything to stop you from killing them.

"What are you doing? Are we playing a game?" I hardly hear her, too intent on the remembered pain I inflicted on innocents, none were more innocent than the children.

"The children… they usually scream."

"Hmm, yes. They sound just like little pigs. Have you brought me some? What, you don't think I'll share? I can't believe that you would think I'm that insensitive." I turn to gaze at her, doesn’t she understand, all those lives we’ve snuffed out.

"We've drunk and killed for how long now? 140-odd years. We've drunk them all up and they're all dead." Darla attempts to take my face into her hands but I scramble back remembering how much pain and destruction those hands have caused.

"Where have you been?" She asks me and I don’t think I can handle her feigned tenderness.

"Don't." I push her away deciding that I shouldn’t have come back here, it was a bad idea but I have no where else to go.

"What is this? Have you met someone else?" She knows something’s off and I know that I have to tell her but I don’t know how. I take a hold of her shoulders and lean against her but she doesn’t like it and protests pushing me away.

"No. Let go. Let go of me! What happened to you? Angelus, what happened?"

"That gypsy girl you brought me… her people found out. They did something to me." I find that after I start talking the words pour out.

"A spell?" I hardly hear her question too focused on the pain I have caused others, that I am feeling now.

"Funny. You would think with all the… people I've maimed… and killed I wouldn't be able to remember. Every. Single. One.” Darla walks up to me and I feel lost I need my Sire’s guidance. “Help me," I plead and she lays a hand against my face. For a moment I feel relief.

"The spell… they gave you a soul. A filthy soul! No!” She scratches my cheek and I flinch back more at her words than the action, I deserve the physical pain. “You're disgusting!"

"Darla." I plead not knowing what to say but only hoping to stave off her verbal attack.

"No, get away from me." She yells at me.

"You brought her here." I try to reason, try to show her that some of this situation is her fault. Instead it enrages her more and she smashes a chair, picking the leg attempting to stake me with it. I manage to avoid the stake completely, devastated that she would want to stake me.

"I am like you." I tell her even though deep down I know that isn’t true.

"You're not like anything. Get away from me. Get out!” I stumble out of the house, not knowing where I will go. “I'll kill you!"

I wander down the alley despairing knowing that the sun will be up in ten minutes. She kicked me out, called me filthy and I am. I’m filthy and too much of a coward to end my own life. Around the corner is the house we gave to the Childer so that we could celebrate in peace. I stumble into the brick building and think of whether I should go disappear or beg them for help. The strong thing to do would be to disappear, leave them behind, I can’t do that though, I’m weak.

Pleading for a gentle touch
never seemed to hurt this much.

I will go to them for help, though to see them will bring back my worst sins. I knock on the door before I can change my mind and one of the minions promptly opens it. I stumble in suddenly feeling very old and tired. I don’t think I can do this. I fall on my knees and vaguely hear the minion calling for Spike but I am too tired to hold back the memories and they flood through me, all the screaming and torture and death at my hands.

I feel cool, firm hands pull me up and guide me through the house but I stare ahead unseeing. I remember a young woman with a three year old daughter. I taunted her, gave her hope when there was none. Made her think that if she debased herself, I would let her daughter go. After, I laughed in her face, told her that she was rubbish and then drained her child right in front of her. I can’t stand it anymore, its more than the memories, it’s the guilt, I caused her so much pain yet I’m still alive and she was just one of hundreds. What have I done? I’m stuck in the memories like never before and I can’t escape their faces, their screams. I need to stop it, end it. I start to dig through my skin with my nails, maybe if I reach down far enough I can pull my heart out. It takes me a moment to realise that my hands are restrained, ha? I seem to come back to myself. I’m crouched on the floor, back against the wall while I rock. There is a body in front of me holding my wrists. When did I close my eyes? I open my eyes to see Spike and everything I have ever done to him, everything that changed him from William the Poet to Spike flashes in front of my eyes. Every slight, every time I took him in anger, every taunt, it’s all there. I whimper and try to move back, escape, get away.

“Hey, Angelus,” he speaks comfortingly, soothingly but I flinch back at that name. Too many times it has been used by people I inflicted pain on including the demon in front of me. I increase my struggles but he holds me effortlessly, must be because of all the blood I threw up earlier. He seems to peer at me puzzled for a few moments and I turn my face away feeling striped bare under his gaze. I feel dirty, unclean, I don’t want anyone to look at me but I cannot hide from him. He refuses to let me go.

“Liam?” he finally asks wonderingly, as if he can’t believe he is asking that question at all.

“No, not that name now. Not him anymore, I’ve done too many things to be him. I’m tainted.” I succeed in at least turning my head away so that I don’t have to look at those piercing blue eyes.

“Angel…” he begins again but stops mid word at my flinch. “Angel?” I don’t have a problem with that name though I’m definitely not an Angel but it is ironic. “What happened?” Why does he want to know? How do I answer that question anyway? It must be obvious that I am not the vampire that Sired him yet he has not kicked me out. Will that change when he learns the whole truth or will he stake me himself? “Just tell me pet, I’ll look after you.” He’ll look after me? The childe who I have hurt and ridiculed, tortured and raped just offered to look after me. He cannot be serious. Yet I feel his weighty gaze on me, waiting. He obviously won’t let me go for whatever misguided reason until I let him know so I might as well just tell him.

“Darla gave me a present, a gypsy girl.” I begin before choking up remembering her screams and pleading as I took her over and over. Oh God, there is no forgiveness for what I’ve done. I will burn in hell for millennium to come and I deserve every second of it. “She was the favourite daughter of her clan.” I manage to choke out remembering how mutilated her body was when I tossed it into a gutter. Of course I had left her face untouched as it was a thing of beauty but it was the only part of her I left untouched.

“What did they do to you?” Spike asks correctly guessing that the gypsies had found out that I was the male that had violated her, raped her. He cups my chin and gently turns my head so that I gaze into those cobalt blues again. “C’mon Angel, what did the gypsies do to you pet, tell me.” Spike demands the truth and I finally cave in, I’m just too tired of everything and the voices are back. The voices of my victims are louder than ever before, wanting to take me under again. I try to focus on Spike as I begin to speak.

“They wanted revenge, pure and simple, a way to make me pay for ever.” I stop for a minute I can feel them whispering, the world around me becoming dimmer but I struggle needing to let him know what happened. “They gave me back my soul,” I confess before letting my world go dark.

*****

I wake up ravenous and attempt to sit up but I am stopped. My eyes snap open and I find myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. I tilt my head back to where I can see my arms stretched above my head. They are chained to the headboard of the bed I am on. I kick my feet out and they meet with no resistance.

“Come back to us, have you pet?” I turn my head to find Spike sitting relaxed in a chair his feet over the arm rest.

“Why am I tied up?” I ask confused.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I gaze at him warily, why is he asking me this? What ulterior motive does he have? I still don’t understand why he is being nice to me after everything I’ve done to him.

“I told you why I’m like this,” I finally remind him refusing to meet his gaze. He moves to the door and upon opening it talks to someone on the other side for a moment before turning back to me while firmly shutting it again.

“That was two days ago.”

“What? But… Darla?” How can this be? And it doesn’t explain why I am tied up.

“Don’t worry mate, she’s left town, gone off to see that bat-faced Sire of hers. We have time.” Time? Time for what? I decide on a different tact.

“Why am I tied up?”

“You don’t remember at all do you?” At my look he continues, “you were scratching yourself up intent on self-destruction, alternatively trying to get rid of your soul or your heart,” It seems that he really cares and I’m touched though I don’t understand why he would care.

“And why am I still tied up?” I ask as I’m obviously lucid again. Just then there is a knock at the door which he answers. I don’t see who is on the other side but he comes away with a mug of blood, I can smell it from here as my hungry stomach rumbles. Is he going to force feed me blood? That’s probably why the chains are still on. I’m ravenous but my new soul won’t let me contribute to the death of a human being.

“No, no, no, no, no.” I attempt to scramble away but I am hampered by the chains around my wrists that are connected to the headboard. Spike stops moving towards me and puts his hand out in a placating gesture.

“Hey its alright pet,” He tells me calmly as if talking to a spooked animal. “Its pigs blood, nothing to worry about and I know you’re famished.” I stare at him as if not sure if I can trust him.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because even with a soul you’re still a vampire and you need sustenance.” He misconstrued my question but he seems sincere. Maybe I need to reach out and trust him because after all he is looking after me. I stop cringing and extend my arm for the cup. He silently hands it to me and I sniff it warily before taking a tentative sip. It’s pigs blood and the one sip wakes up all my taste buds that instantly clamour for more. I lift the mug to my mouth and gulp down the cold almost congealing blood not really caring because I am so hungry. I am aware of Spike just standing there next to the bed and I feel like I need to say something to him.

“Thanks,” is all that I come up with but it sounds weird, completely lame. Spike sits down on the bed next to me.

“You’re welcome pet, how are you feeling?” I can see the concern in his eyes and as he has looked after me so far I feel I can open up to him.

“I can hear them clamouring again, the taste of blood woke them up.” I close my eyes not wanting to see the look of pity Spike is undoubtedly sending my way. I feel his hand cupping my face and my eyes snap open in surprise.

“How can I help shut them out?” He asks me.

“I need to be anchored here, to focus on what’s happening here.” I reply after I’ve thought about it for a while. “I try but they keep dragging me under.” There is the fellow Irishman whom I killed the day before his wedding. Something brushes against my bottom lip and I blink startled. I had started to drift again, be caught up in the memories. Spikes finger lingers on my lip and I am confused how nerve endings I didn’t know I had in my lip come alive at his touch. He stares at me for a long moment and I cannot decipher the look on his face. Removing the finger from my lip he leans in slowly and the next thing I know his lips are against mine, kissing me softly. Before I can react he pulls back to peer into my eyes again.

“I can give you what you need,” Spike whispers to me huskily, “but you are going to have to trust me to take care of you pet, can you do that?” I think I know what he is asking but I need more time to think so I act dumb.

“What do you mean?” Only one male has gone there and it hurt so bad, not an experience I want to repeat, but Spike always seemed to enjoy it so there has to be something to it.

“Don’t play dumb, I can anchor you to this world til all you feel is pleasure. All you can concentrate on is me in you.” I shiver at the sexy tones of his voice and I am suddenly hyper aware of being tied up.

“I’m not sure.” I’m afraid. Big, bad Angelus is afraid. When The Master took me it was the most excruciating pain ever. Worse than when Darla forced my hand in holy water. Spike and Penn are the only ones I’ve taken who seemed to enjoy it. Spike more than Penn but I think that was because I was gentler with Spike.

“The Master raped you didn’t he?” Spike asks running a hand over my chest. How did he know? Oh, no! No!

“Did he…?” I growl vamping out at the thought of bat features near my angelic looking Spike.

“No, he never touched me, thanks to you. I have long suspected that you voluntarily graced his bed so that I would be safe from his lecherous greed.” Ever the poet is my Spike or maybe he isn’t mine anymore as I’m not the vampire who raised him. I know I’ve been avoiding thinking about The Master but I have good reason. Doing that for Spike wasn’t the good deed it sounds like. I was a selfish bastard and Spike was mine and I wasn’t going to let anyone else touch him like that. I feel his lips on mine and I gasp in surprise, which gives him the opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth. Before I know it, I’m responding eagerly to the kiss. Why had I never kissed him before? He finally backs off and I decide to give him my answer before I change my mind.

“I trust you, you could have staked me but you didn’t.” I murmur not used to speaking my feelings out loud.

“That’s right pet, I’ll look after you so just lie back and focus on me, yeah?” He moves off me and I lie there confused for a moment, is he leaving me? But then I realise he was just taking off his shoes and he is back straddling my waist. He leans down and kisses my forehead gently. I am surprised by his gentleness but I suppose that before I had always discouraged it and ridiculed him for the smallest kindness. I am glad that I apparently couldn’t beat it out of him completely. I feel lust come to me unbidden as he licks down my cheek. Soon he is licking at my lips and I open them greedily for his tongue. In some ways it feels strange being in the submissive position like I never have before but in other ways it just feels so right. He sits up so that his ass is right against my groin and at my groan he grinds it against me, smirking evilly.

“Please,” I find myself begging and then I gasp as he forcefully rips the remains of my dirty shirt off me. His hands run over my torso skirting gently over the sores where I tried to remove my own heart.

“I hate to see you hurting,” He remarks quietly as he stares down at them. I almost feel like I’m intruding on a private moment.

“I should be the one protecting you,” I whisper back just as quietly, though I have no idea why I’m whispering. Next thing I know his tongue is lapping at each of the wounds. I arch back as a bolt of lust shoots straight through me.

“That’s it pet, just go with the sensations,” he murmurs before his head is lowered again. It skirts around one of my swollen areolas and I find myself testing my bonds wanting to touch him, urge him on. Unfortunately they don’t budge. I remember how I used to let the bonds on my victims be loose or easily undoable so that they maintained a sense of hope which caused them to fight back harder and longer. A sharp pain on my chest jolts me back to the present and I look down to find Spike licking blood off my nipple.

“Sorry pet but you were miles away again,” is his excuse to my unasked question but he doesn’t seem sorry at all. He lunges back up my body until we are kissing again and I feel like I could do this forever. Well maybe not forever with the hard flesh between my legs demanding attention. Suddenly I find that he’s gone but before I can connect my lust addled brain cells together he is back but minus the clothes. His skin feels so good against mine but my pants are in the way.

“Please Spike,” I find myself begging. I just want something to take me out of my situation for a while and this seems to be working.

“That’s it, just feel it peaches,” he murmurs undoing my fly. I arch up into him as much as the bonds allow, moaning continuously. I love being the submissive I decide, as I feel his hand scrape gently over my hard length. Sensations flash through my body leaving me gasping for unneeded breath. Soon I am naked and our cocks are continuously brushing against each other as I suck his tongue into my mouth.

“That’s it Angel, you feel so good. Do you want to get off like this or go the whole way?” He asks me. I only need a second to answer. I already know what I need and frottage is not going to cut it.

“Please Spike, I need to feel you in me, Childe,” I find myself begging. The Childe at the end gets a loud groan from Spike before he reaches for something I cannot see.

“I had hoped you were going to say that,” he replies, dropping the lube on the bed. I do the only thing I can do and wrap my strong thighs around his hips and thrust up hoping he gets the message.

“Yeah that’s it. Show me how much you need my cock.” How can such obscene and uncouth sentences get me burning with need? When I was alive, despite my nightly dalliances, talk like that would have had me burning in shame, now I have some of that humanity back but its not shame I’m burning in. Feeling a smooth, cool hand caress my buttocks while his other trails over my firm flesh makes me realise how much I want this. Lying back and letting a finger worm its way between my cheeks I strive to make Spike feel as out of control with lust as I am.

“Yes Spike, please touch me, yes Spike.”

“Yeah that’s right Angel, speak to me, tell me how much you like this, how much you like my finger worming into you.” As he talks he does exactly as he says and I find that I have a part of Spike nestled within me. Sure it’s a small part for now but I know that that’ll soon change. I gasp as I feel it move and my muscles unconsciously clench down on the intruder. I feel his other hand stroke my thigh as I get used to the different feeling of his digit move in and out. I try to put thoughts of The Master far from my mind. On the next plunge in the pressure feels bigger, takes a little longer for me to relax and I know that he added a second finger. The slight pain seemed to keep me grounded but I don’t know how I am going to relax enough to let his cock plunge into me. I remember relishing ripping other men’s anal passages with my cock feeling their blood lube my movements, maybe I deserve to feel that pain over and over in penance. His fingers crook inside of me and I see stars in front of my eyes. For a moment I think I’m flying. Instead of the pain I thought I deserved I feel amazing pleasure. The pleasure is in some ways harder to deal with than pain would be because I don’t think I deserved to feel good.

“Yes that’s your prostate, now stop your brooding thoughts and enjoy it, will you?” Spike growls above me before taking my lips in another deep searing kiss. Deciding to take his advice I push down on his fingers taking him further inside me and liking the feeling where I never have before. He touches that spot again and I moan up into his mouth. He lets go of my lips and I manage to lick up his neck telling him that I am a willing participant in this.

“Ah, that’s it pet, you know how much I have a neck fetish. Now are you ready for my cock? I wanna hear you tell me how much you want it.” Those fingers are doing distracting things inside me and I squeeze down on them not sure that I can use my voice. He bites my shoulder with his human teeth and I find my voice again.

“Oh shit, Spike please.”

“Gonna have to be a bit more explicit than that,” he taunts and I cave in. I would do anything for more, I really need to come.

“Please Spike, I want it. I need to feel you inside me, to know that you’re really here and that you are going to stay here.” I find myself saying more than I meant to.

Tell me something tell me please?
Is this real or just a dream?
Is your hand holding mine or am I
lost to twilight's time.

But Spike just kisses me chastely before answering.

“There you are luv, that wasn’t so hard and I’ll always be here, for as long as you need me to be.” Before I can answer he thrusts forward and I feel myself stretching to accommodate him. I’d forgotten how intense it was, all the sensations melding together until its too much, can’t handle it, its way too much. Then suddenly it isn’t, it melds into mind blowing pleasure as he settles inside of me and I suddenly feel full and safe and whole. I feel centred and more aware of just us, no voices whispering in my head.

“Oh, Spike, move,” I groan after an age of waiting and I really can’t be patient anymore. Then he does and I’m aware of nothing but the pleasure, of the in-out strokes and the way my body convulses as if it is touching a live wire. Time means nothing to me here it could be a minute or it could be an hour before the groaning devil above me touches my aching cock and I explode.

*****

One Month Later

I open my eyes and notice a couple of things straight away. I’m on our bed and my arm is chained to the headboard. I must have had another episode, at least they are becoming less frequent. So much has happened since the gypsies cursed me. Drusilla, Spike and I fled Rumania when Darla found out that her grand-childer had taken me in. They have looked after me, fed me and soothed away my nightmares. Spike and I have shared a bed every night while Drusilla is in the throes of her madness. The biggest change though is that I no longer despair, as I know my true family is here for me as I am for them.

A/N:

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Rewriting the Past