Sin Eater: India 1900 (part 2 of 6)
Dec. 27th, 2006 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thatotherpervremember when I said the parts were short? well, some are shorter than others. *g* but I think it does the trick.
Title: Sin Eater
Author: Mel (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
btvslover82)
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: uh...R? I guess maybe NC-17, though...I'd say R for non-porny intent of the smexing.
Summary: pre-canon AU. What if Spike stumbled across Angelus just before he fled China? A peek at how their lives would have been different.
Warnings: typical vamp stuff...violence, sexual violence, death. insanity. angst.
A/N: I'm keeping everything pre-leave-off point as close to canon as possible, so sire = in the sense of mentor.
Previous parts here
India, 1900
“You have to eat.”
Angel was so weak he could barely stir in the bed. Hadn’t fed in the three weeks they’d been travelling, and it made Spike sick to see him this way. Sick with worry, sick with anger. Disgust. This was not his sire. This wasn’t the proud, vital patriarch he’d known.
Those brown eyes that used to flash with humor and bloodlust gazed weakly at the boy Spike had dragged in for him, startling him with their sheen of tears. So frequent an occurrence now, but it never stopped scaring the piss out of him. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
Spike could barely hear the trembling whisper above the brat’s loud, pleading gibberish, and his futile struggle was trying Spike’s last nerve. He clenched his jaw and looked away, so close to losing his temper with Angel. Never did have the patience with this wanker that he had for his goddess.
His view out the crude window to their room was veiled with the mosquito netting that hemmed them into the bed, but he could still make out the lush foliage, the tight clutch of the other buildings in this village. It was a bad place to stop, in a community this tight-knit, but Angel hadn’t been fit to travel any farther, and the people here were ever hospitable. A family had vacated their home for the duration of their stay.
But they couldn’t stay long, that was the thing—because Spike sure as hell wouldn’t starve himself, and soon they’d have the village on them with torches and stakes. Angel had to feed tonight so they could bugger off tomorrow, and he had to feed now, so Spike could snag another spicy treat before they all went indoors.
Unbelievable as it would seem, Angelus could no longer kill. Couldn’t. It pained him, as if it were physical. Spike didn’t understand it, but at this point, there was only one thing to do.
Angel wailed when Spike snapped the boy’s neck. Wailed like that soul (and Christ, hadn’t that news been a shock) was being ripped right out of him, and would that it were. He dry-heaved into the bedding and wept, but Spike waited him out and when his fit had ended, he tore the boy’s throat open himself and put the gushing wound right to Angel’s cracked lips.
In the end, Angel couldn’t say no to that.
London 1902
Title: Sin Eater
Author: Mel (
btvslover82)Pairing: Spangel
Rating: uh...R? I guess maybe NC-17, though...I'd say R for non-porny intent of the smexing.
Summary: pre-canon AU. What if Spike stumbled across Angelus just before he fled China? A peek at how their lives would have been different.
Warnings: typical vamp stuff...violence, sexual violence, death. insanity. angst.
A/N: I'm keeping everything pre-leave-off point as close to canon as possible, so sire = in the sense of mentor.
Previous parts here
India, 1900
“You have to eat.”
Angel was so weak he could barely stir in the bed. Hadn’t fed in the three weeks they’d been travelling, and it made Spike sick to see him this way. Sick with worry, sick with anger. Disgust. This was not his sire. This wasn’t the proud, vital patriarch he’d known.
Those brown eyes that used to flash with humor and bloodlust gazed weakly at the boy Spike had dragged in for him, startling him with their sheen of tears. So frequent an occurrence now, but it never stopped scaring the piss out of him. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
Spike could barely hear the trembling whisper above the brat’s loud, pleading gibberish, and his futile struggle was trying Spike’s last nerve. He clenched his jaw and looked away, so close to losing his temper with Angel. Never did have the patience with this wanker that he had for his goddess.
His view out the crude window to their room was veiled with the mosquito netting that hemmed them into the bed, but he could still make out the lush foliage, the tight clutch of the other buildings in this village. It was a bad place to stop, in a community this tight-knit, but Angel hadn’t been fit to travel any farther, and the people here were ever hospitable. A family had vacated their home for the duration of their stay.
But they couldn’t stay long, that was the thing—because Spike sure as hell wouldn’t starve himself, and soon they’d have the village on them with torches and stakes. Angel had to feed tonight so they could bugger off tomorrow, and he had to feed now, so Spike could snag another spicy treat before they all went indoors.
Unbelievable as it would seem, Angelus could no longer kill. Couldn’t. It pained him, as if it were physical. Spike didn’t understand it, but at this point, there was only one thing to do.
Angel wailed when Spike snapped the boy’s neck. Wailed like that soul (and Christ, hadn’t that news been a shock) was being ripped right out of him, and would that it were. He dry-heaved into the bedding and wept, but Spike waited him out and when his fit had ended, he tore the boy’s throat open himself and put the gushing wound right to Angel’s cracked lips.
In the end, Angel couldn’t say no to that.
London 1902
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 01:33 am (UTC)it makes sense to me that you'd be focused on Spike. after all, Angel's sort of predicament is canon, so it's not new. what Spike is facing is something different.
thanks babe!