Memories Lost, Memories Gained

This is something I wrote as a little pressie for vamptastica to show my gratitude for all of her hard work on my lj. Not only did she make me an amazing banner and icon, she re-worked my whole layout!

TITLE: Memories Lost, Memories Gained
AUTHOR: SpankSpike
PAIRING: Spike/William, Spike/Angel
RATING: NC17
WARNINGS: m/m as usual
SUMMARY: William finds himself back in Victorian London, facing himself in unexpected ways.





"What the….bloody hell, it can't be." Spike turned around for the third time, boots scraping over the flagstones in the small courtyard. He stretched a trembling hand to the bush growing next to an ornately carved stone bench. Plucking a bloom and lifting it to his nose, he inhaled deeply and was struck by the unmistakable scent of jasmine.

Dropping the bruised flower and inadvertently stepping on it as he moved uncertainly toward the door, he could hear the sound of voices raised in laughter. As Spike moved closer, he could see a circle of people in Victorian dress standing in a gas-lit parlor. There was a second roar of laughter as the amused throng of party goers were forcibly parted as a young man shouldered his way past them. Spike melted quickly into the shadow of the jasmines as the thin man stumbled through the open doors and out into the courtyard. Spike caught the salty tang of tears on the air as the man paused to look over his shoulder, wet blue eyes turned toward a dark haired beauty still holding a gloved hand daintily to her lips as she continued to giggle. Turning his back on the party once more, the young man rushed from the garden.

Bracing himself with one hand on the garden wall, Spike leaned over and retched violently. After emptying the contents of his stomach and suffering from a small series of dry heaves, the blonde vampire righted himself and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Tears sprang to his own eyes as he pivoted to face the path the young man had used to exit the courtyard. His voice was a harsh whisper as he put a name to the figure he could still make out in the distant street lights, "William."

Spike stood for a minute, his mind swirling with a million how's and why's. The last thing he remembered was trying to locate that mad bint of a slayer. He recalled being so angry with Angel for telling him to stay out of it, insisting that he'd do everything. Ever the hero that was his sire - afraid that his childe might steal his thunder and be recognized for something other than being a fuck up. His head felt oddly fuzzy and he wasn't quite sure what had happened after he'd tracked the girl to the warehouse. Spike thought about the possibilities of Wolfram and Hart, or maybe even his ass of a sire, being willing to do anything to get his childe out of the picture. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around how that might have ended with him being somehow thrown back more than a century in time - back to the very night of his turning.

"Balls!" Spike started at a run in the same direction William had been traveling. He knew that within minutes William would be crossing the path of three vampires. More than aware that the darkest of the three would decide almost immediately that he wanted the pathetic creature who had brushed angrily against him; Spike knew that Angelus would whisper in the ear of his dark princess instructing her to take the tousle-haired boy. He also knew that Angelus would lurk nearby; waiting for Drusilla to entice the boy so that he could take over and make William his own.

Rounding a corner he hadn't passed in at least eighty years, Spike caught sight of William as he bumped into Angelus and saw the sly grin on his sire's face as he leaned away from Darla and spoke to Dru.

He jogged faster, knowing that he had to stop it from happening - he had to rescue William from his intended fate. He just wasn't sure why he was doing it.

Spike cut through the group of vampires, purposely banging into Angelus and nearly knocking him from his feet.

"Watch yourself boy!" Angelus shouted as Spike heard him inhale, scenting the demon in him as he ran on - still following William.

"Piss off ponce!" He could actually picture the incredulous look Angelus would be wearing - his sire was not accustomed to anyone speaking to him in that manner. It made him smile a little as he imagined Darla arching an amused eyebrow at her own boy, enjoying his discomfort and mild humiliation at the hands of the strangely clothed vampire who had already passed out of their range of vision.

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Spike caught up with William as he sat on a bale of hay in the stable, sobbing softly - lost in his own thoughts. He skidded to a halt in front of the crying figure. William's face was buried in his own hands, leather bound book that he scribbled his poems in lying discarded at his own feet. He stood for just a moment contemplating how to explain to his 19th century self that a vampire was coming to kill him and subject him to an eternity of unhappiness. Not able to come up with a feasible plan, Spike went with his usual flying by the seat of his pants approach.

"We've got to get you out of here, follow me."

William looked up, eyes red rimmed and startled, "And who are you sir?"

"Name's Spike, now come on - up with you. We need to go right now mate."

William eyed Spike suspiciously, looking his vampire self up and down - taking in the long leather duster and ending on the platinum hair. "I have no idea who you are, or what manner of dress your people prefer - but I won't be going anywhere with you. I'd appreciate you leaving me be."

"We don't have time for this," Spike said has he hauled the other man to his feet and began dragging him bodily toward the back entrance to the stable.

"Are you quite mad? Unhand me immediately you brute, you'll not be getting my purse tonight." William struggled against the vise-like hold the vampire had on his elbow, finding himself unable to break away as he was pulled inexorably toward the door.

"I don't want your bloody purse," Spike muttered. "Please tell me I was never this much of a nancy boy."

After making it through the door with the struggling William shouting, kicking and scratching like a teenage girl in a school-yard fight - Spike sighed loudly as he tossed the boy over his shoulder and kicked the door shut behind them. He continued to run, knowing he needed to put some distance between himself and the other vampires, or else he'd find himself tracked either by Dru's visions or Angelus' ability to scent them. Fortunately William seemed to be in a state of shock and had ceased wiggling and shouting.

Spike slowed as he found himself outside of his boyhood home, having unwittingly run this way as he assisted William in his escape. After passing through the garden gate and heading for the rear of the house, Spike set William upright on his feet by the kitchen door. William quickly made a dash for the steps leading to the house, but Spike grabbed him by the elbow once more - pulling the young man back to face him.

William closed his eyes in fear, "Please don't harm me sir. There are men who'd be glad of this type of attention, I can tell you how to reach the district where you might make the acquaintance of another gentleman of such desires." William's eyes flew open at the short bark of laughter from the man restraining him.

"I'm not after your purse or your virgin knickers, pet." Spike was shaking his head, amused by the insinuation.

William looked suddenly indignant, "I assure you sir, I am no virgin."

Spike laughed again, fully aware that William had died a virgin, the first hand other than his own to touch his flesh had been that of Angelus. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, luv. I think we'd better get inside just in case they might be followin' us."

"I can't take you inside my home. I don't know you, other than the fact that you're some kind of ruffian. Kidnapping me and dragging me to…" William paused, considering for the first time that the strange man who had been accosting him had brought him back to his own home. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he gestured toward the door. "How did you know where I lived?"

"Lets just get inside, then I'll be glad to explain everythin'."

William dramatically reached for the stair rail and spread his feet into a wider stance, "You'll not be goin' anywhere 'til you tell me what this is about."

Spike arched his eyebrow when he heard William sliding into an almost exact copy of his own accent - surprised that the boy didn't notice just how eerily close they sounded. He sighed again, not sure where to start. Finally he leaned into the light coming from the kitchen window, "Look at me."

"I have been looking at you for quite some time sir, but I'm still waiting for an explanation for your behavior tonight."

He moved his own face scant inches from William's and repeated his request, "Really look at me William."

William blanched visibly, trembling from the stranger's close proximity and shocked to hear his own name drop from the other man's lips. "How do you kn-kn-know my name?" he asked, stuttering slightly.

"Look at me and answer your own question, William." Spike moved his face slowly from one side to the other, giving William the opportunity to take in his features from every angle.

"Do I know you sir?" William said, voice still shaky.

"Don't you know me William?"

The young man gasped softly, and then moved even closer to Spike's face. "The resemblance is striking, almost like looking into a mirror." William raised his hand and brought it to Spike's scarred eyebrow, not quite touching it. "With the exception of this," and he nodded toward the intensely white-blonde hair, "and your strangely colored hair. Are we cousins?"

"Try somethin' a little closer than that pet."

William frowned and shook his head as his eyes dropped to the ground, "No, I can't believe that Father would have betrayed Mother like that - we can't be brothers." He looked back up at Spike, "Can we? Are we brothers, are you my brother?"

"Closer."

"What could be closer than brothers?"

Spike looked over his shoulder, peering back toward the dark street. "If we could just go inside for a bit, I think I can clear it up for you."

"But you could harm my mother."

He spoke quickly, "I assure you I would never do anythin' to harm my…" Spike paused before continuing, "I would never harm 'your' mother. In point of fact, I've saved her from harm by draggin' you back here tonight."

William nodded, "Alright, just for a little while - until you finish explaining tonight's strange occurrences and why we look so alike." He led the way up the steps, but turned back to Spike before opening the door. "You must be quiet, mother's quite…"

"Ill," the vampire finished his duplicate's sentence.

Nodding, William opened the door and led Spike inside and up the rear stairs to his bedroom.

Spike's mouth dropped open as he entered his childhood room; he walked slowly around picking up things and examining them - memories flooding his brain. He moved to the side of William's narrow bed, a strange compulsion moving him to open the drawer in the bedside table. Spike was actually startled when William quickly moved to block him before he reached the knob on the front of the tiny drawer.

"I'll thank you to stop rifling through my things and move along with your story sir."

The blonde vampire sighed for what seemed like the fiftieth time that evening, "It's not a story, it's the truth - 'n please stop callin' me sir."

William stiffened his spine, clearly offended. "Fine, the truth then - let's have it."

"I'm you."

"Pardon me, I thought you said you were me."

"I am you, look at me. I'm you in the future, more 'n a hundred years in the future. Can't you see it William?"

"You must really be mad. That is completely ridiculous, it's not possible. See here Sprite…"

"Spike, the name's Spike."

"Fine, Spike - you are not dealing with an un-educated man here. I've read the new science fiction novels. I know all about H.G. Wells and his 'Time Machine'. I know the difference between a story and reality."

Spike was frustrated, "Listen to me." He pushed William's shoulders, forcing him to sit down on his bed. "I'm tellin' you the truth, mate. I know it don't make much sense. I'm not sure how it happened either, but it did - 'n now I'm here 'n I ain't got no idea how to get back. If you'd just give me a chance to finish, there's lots more that's gonna upset you."

Still somewhat shocked by Spike's outburst, William just nodded his head.

"'Kay, I'm a vampire. In the future you're a vampire, or you would have been if I hadn't got you outta that stable tonight."

"Vampires, now see here…" William tried to stand, but Spike just pressed harder on his shoulders.

"Yes. The man you bumped into on the street after you left the party tonight, he's a vampire. His name's Angelus - the two ladies with him are vampires as well. He was set to follow you into that stable and make you into one of 'em. Then he woulda spent years makin' your life miserable."

William was struck by the amount of conviction that this man spoke with, he wasn't certain what to believe - but he was sure that Spike believed every word of what he was saying. Spike continued to recount their supposedly shared history with this Angelus character and William listened, nodding occasionally. As the white haired man spoke, he moved his hands - waving them about to emphasis some of the things he was saying. William began to recognize just how closely these gestures matched the ones he might use if he were reciting some tale he'd read to entertain his mother. He found himself wanting to believe what he was being told, wanting to believe that something so exciting might have befallen him.

Spike's story ended at the last point he remembered, tracking the mad slayer to the warehouse and then suddenly finding himself outside the party William had attended that night - bearing witness to the same social humiliation he himself had endured more than a lifetime ago. He sat down next to William on the tiny bed and looked at his own hands before reaching for the young man's hand and pressing it to his chest - covering his unbeating heart with William's warm palm.

"See, no heartbeat. I'm not alive, well not in the sense that you're alive."

William turned to face Spike, "So assuming that you were really me that means you'd know everything about me - everything that's happened in my life."

"Yeah, I know it all."

"Every tiny little thing I've ever thought or done."

"Everythin'."

"Then tell me some things. Things that only I would know - or rather you and I would know, assuming we were actually the same person from two different times."

"Kay," Spike pushed himself back across the bed until he was able to lean against the wall.

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It was nearly dawn when Spike reached the scene at the party. William had sat for several hours, tears periodically streaming down his face as Spike re-counted the most private and humiliating moments of his life.

"Cecily, she was the love of your life - well our lives. You wrote that poem, the one I just quoted from, for her - to get her to fall for you."

William looked up for the first time. "For her, the poem for Cecily?"

Spike only nodded. Throat dry, stomach rumbling as he'd vomited up the last meal he'd had earlier in a day that now seemed years distant.

They both turned toward the door when they heard the sound of violent coughing.

"Mother," was said in unison, and William cocked his eyebrow as he regarded Spike.

"I'd better go check on her," he climbed off the bed and quickly crossed the room. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Spike got up as well and moved to close the curtains more completely, "Can't suns comin' up."

William nodded, "Right, vampire."

Spike paced around his old room while he waited for William to return. Feeling restless he went back to the drawer that his former self hadn't wanted him to look in, racking his brain to remember what contents he might have found embarrassing. He smiled as he came to what he thought must be the logical conclusion. "Poetry," he said quietly as he pulled the drawer open.

He nodded knowingly to himself as he pulled out another leather bound volume. "Yep, poetry."

Spike sat on the bed again, making himself comfortable and beginning to turn pages - stopping to read a few snippets of what he'd written. As he flipped through the book, several sheets suddenly slid from between the pages - fluttering their way down to land in his lap. He looked down at them, realizing that they were postcards.

Naughty postcards, he thought, smiling again.

He gasped loudly as he turned the first one over and found not the buxom Victorian lady he'd expected, but instead discovering a handsome dark-haired young man. He was reclining on a chaise, completely nude - body glistening and obviously coated in oil. The man's fist was curled loosely around a huge erection, obviously pleasuring himself. Spike reached for another, flipping it over to find a second nude man - posing ridiculously with a fencing sword in one hand and hard sex in the other, dark hair sticking to a sweaty forehead.

Spike lay the two postcards he'd already looked at next to his thigh on the bed, frowning as he tried to remember where William - where he - might have gotten these from. He felt himself harden as he continued looking at the enticing bodies on display; his hand was trembling as he reached for the third card. Turning it over he found a picture showing just a man's chest and bits, he could actually see the moisture leaking from the cock head. He placed this one on the bed next to the others, and unconsciously stroked one thumb down the bulge pressing against the worn denim of his jeans.

He slowly flipped over the final postcard, which was tattered and worn, and bit his bottom lip as his cock twitched hard and began to leak. This card depicted a close-up view of the cock and balls of an obviously very well endowed individual. There was a thick streak of white cum on the stomach just above the still hard sex. Spike placed the final card on the bed and looked at each of them repeatedly as he began to grind the heel of his palm over his erection. He wanted nothing more than to free himself and relieve the pressure in his aching balls, but he figured that William would be returning soon.

The turning of the doorknob startled Spike as he heard William calling goodnight to their mother. He stuffed the postcards back into the book and shoved it into the drawer, finally pulling William's pillow over his lap to hide the obvious bulge there.

"So you can't leave until it gets dark again?"

"No, but if you want me to go down to the wine-cellar or somethin' - I will. Then I'll leave here as soon as the sun goes down again." Spike brushed the thumb he still had underneath the pillow over the damp spot just above his throbbing sex, thinking fondly of some personal time away from his more innocent version. Or maybe not so innocent, he thought briefly as the images on the postcards flitted quickly through his mind. He pressed his thumb firmly into his cock head as he felt it twitch again.

"But where will you go?"

"Don’t know exactly - 'm just hopin' that Angel knows I'm gone and he finds a way to get me back."

"Because you're friends now, even though he tortured you and forced himself on you for years?" William looked a little incredulous at this notion.

"It's - well it's complicated between us." Now he was thinking about the things that had transpired between Angel and himself recently - all of the flirting, the near misses, and the touches that lingered longer than necessary. So much had changed between them, and yet so many things would always be the same - simmering just below the surface as they had ridiculous arguments about things like who'd win a fight between astronauts and cavemen. Arguments to mask what they'd really like to be doing to each other. The thought of Angel was enough to make him slowly rotate his thumb, wanting so badly to stroke himself.

"You don't have to go."

"What?"

"To the wine-cellar, you don't have to go down there. It's cold and damp, you can just stay here with me."

"Thanks," Spike tried not to sound disappointed, knowing that the throbbing tightness in his balls was going to go on for quite a while longer.

William opened a drawer and pulled out a dressing gown, "Do you want a dressing gown?"

"No thanks, I'll just kick off my boots and sit in that chair over there."

"You don't have to sleep in the chair, you can sleep with me." William put the dressing gown over his head, and then removed his shirt and trousers in a way that prevented Spike from seeing his body.

"Still shy?" It made him smile to remember a time when he hadn't paraded around nude in front of anyone willing to watch, and possibly a few who weren't so willing.

"I'm not used to having anyone here when I'm undressing." William crossed the room and stood next to the bed. Spike got up, still holding the pillow in front of him as William slid under the covers leaving them turned down for Spike as well. "Do you mind getting the light?"

"Sure," Spike turned down the light until it flickered out, the heavy curtains leaving the room almost completely dark. He toed his boots off before sliding under the covers with William. "Here," he said passing over the pillow.

William moved closer to the wall and turned his back to Spike. "You didn't get everything right."

"What?"

"The things you knew about me, some of it was wrong."

"What, what was I wrong about?"

"I don't want to talk about it, I just wanted you to know you didn't get it all right." William moved a little farther away from Spike. "Goodnight."

"Night," Spike said it, but knew he was far from sleep. He couldn't get the postcards off of his mind, and he couldn't stop trying to remember where they had come from. He had been sure that he had never even heard of the idea of men doing anything sexual to one another until Angelus had taught him. So why would William, why would he, have been looking at those pictures.

Soon he heard William's even breathing and new he'd fallen asleep. His cock was so hard he could have etched his name on William's mirror with it. Having it trapped in his jeans was so uncomfortable that he knew he'd never fall asleep. Deciding that he would have to at least open his pants to relieve some of the pressure, he slid his hand beneath the sheet and slowly slid down his zipper. His erection sprang from the opening as if it were attached to a spring and the difference in temperature against his sensitive skin made him shiver as he popped open the button as well.

William moaned a little and shifted suddenly in his sleep, rolling onto his back and trapping Spike's cock between his body and the mattress. Spike moaned as he felt the pressure of William's bare skin on his own. Obviously his dressing gown had ridden up as he turned, leaving his bottom exposed. The boy moaned again and arched his hips a little before relaxing once more. The vampire knew that he needed to move away from William before the boy's movements made him cum.

Pulling his hips back slowly until he was free of William's body was torturous for Spike as his foreskin was drawn up tightly over his leaking head until it finally popped free. His own motion had caused the sheet to slip down and he leaned up to draw it back to cover them. What he saw made him groan. William's gown was bunched up around his waist and he had his hand tightly wrapped around his own erection. As Spike watched, he moaned and thrust up into his hand, still sleeping.

The sight of William caressing a cock that matched his own was more than Spike could stand. He took his own leaking prick in his fist, holding it tightly as he began to rub the wet tip over the boy's exposed hip. William continued stroking himself in his sleep and Spike prayed he wouldn't wake up before he found his own release. He let his cock go, wrapped one leg over William's thigh and began to hump against his body.

Spike slipped his hand under William's gown and began to stroke over the boy's nipples with his thumb. William started to pull himself harder and the vampire couldn't believe that he wasn't waking. He was moving faster against William's body when the boy suddenly stopped moving. Spike thought for a moment that William had cum, but couldn't smell his release.

"Charles," William called out, waking himself up.

Spike froze as well, leg wrapped over William's and one hand on his chest - cock still protruding obscenely from the open fly of his jeans and pressed into the boy's hip, pre-cum leaving a wet trail from where he had been rubbing himself off on the warm skin.

"Spike?" William released himself and tried to turn away, but Spike's arm held him pinned to the bed. "Please Spike, let me go."

The vampire couldn't hear what William was saying, a flood of repressed memories were drowning out all cognitive thought. His best friend Charles, he'd seen him undressing on the day they'd graduated from school. They'd changed together and William had grown so hard at the sight of his friend's body - he'd had to make excuses to stay in his room a little longer. He'd frantically opened his trousers and picked up the shirt that Charles had just changed out of; rubbing it over and around his erection until he'd covered it in cum. Ashamed, he'd stuffed the soiled shirt under the mattress - later telling Charles he hadn't seen it as they packed to go home. It had gone on for years. He'd spend an evening with Charles and then go home so achingly hard that he'd stroke himself furtively under his covers, praying that his mother wouldn't hear him as he called out Charles' name each and every time he'd reach his peak. It was the reason he'd gone to the shops on that side of the city, gone there repeatedly and looked at the postcards before finally getting up the nerve to buy them. He'd rushed home with them, holding his jacket in front of him the entire way to hide the erection that wouldn't subside. Night after night he'd spread the cards out on his bed, all chosen for the way the men's dark hair, large frame, big hands and heavy cock reminded him of his Charles. Then he'd turn the light down as low as he could and still see the pictures. He'd lie on his stomach rubbing his hard sex against the mattress until he spilled, sometimes dipping his fingertip into it and tasting it. Sucking hard on his finger, he'd imagined taking Charles into his mouth and tasting him instead. Sometimes he'd reach behind himself with that same wet finger and circle his own opening, pressing against it and wishing that Charles wanted him - wishing that Charles were taking him. He'd never quite gotten the nerve to push that finger in, no matter how much he'd wanted it.

The final memory that settled into his mind was of writing the poem, the same one William had read aloud that very evening - writing it for Charles. Reading it to Charles in his mind a million times, before deciding that he would pull him into a dark corner tonight and confess his feelings - offer him the poem as proof of his love. He'd gotten there and couldn't do it, knowing how much it would hurt his mother. Hating how much he'd disappointed her by not marrying. He'd been sitting alone when Cecily had come in, his mother had pressed him to court her so many times - and he so wanted to please his mother. So, he'd impulsively read the poem to her - let her believe that he'd written it for her. But she'd mocked it, and then he'd heard Charles openly mocking him and his poetry as well. That had been the final straw. That had been the thing that had sent him running out of the party and into the waiting arms of Angelus - large framed, handsome, dark-haired, with big hands, looking so much like his….

"Charles," Spike called out the name as he pulled William into his arms. "How could I have forgotten?" He could see tears gleaming on William's cheeks in the dark.

"I don't know, but that's the thing you had wrong."

Spike pressed William to his chest, hugging him tight. He felt a shiver roll up William's spine as their erections brushed together. He groaned and thrust his hips against the warm body, catching an unnecessary breath as William's hips answered with a small thrust of their own. He let his hands wander down the boy's back until he cupped his bottom in them and began to pump his hips slowly, letting his cock stroke along William's.

William moaned, "I loved him for so long…"

"and he mocked me in front of all of those people." Spike completed William's sentence for him as he continued thrusting against him. He leaned in and captured William's lips, kissing him deeply.

Spike reached down and grasped William's wrist bringing his hand up to their faces. He sucked William's middle finger into his mouth, wetting it thoroughly and then moving it around his waist and down to his cheeks - pressing it forward until it slid between them and lodged against his puckered opening. He placed his own finger to William's mouth, and the boy copied his actions. He reached around William and began to trace the wet fingertip around his hole.

William began panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly against Spike's own. "I wanted him to do this."

"I know, I remember now. I wanted it so much - dreamed about it every night for years." He stopped thrusting against William and pressed back toward the finger that was probing his entrance. "Do it, I want to feel it."

"Me too." They both pressed their hips back, impaling themselves on the slick digit of the other. William grunted as Spike's chest vibrated with a growl.

Spike started to thrust faster, building the friction as their cocks rubbed together - trapped between their bellies. He worked his finger inside William, crooking it slightly - feeling William start shaking all over as he began to rub over the swelling inside him. He growled louder as William again mimicked his motions, working his finger against Spike's prostate. They kissed frantically as they built toward a crescendo - foreskin dragging against foreskin, both slick with pre-cum. Their fingering became faster and faster as they pumped forward and back trying to bring each other off.

Spike came first, freezing against William mid-thrust, his cool seed bursting from his slick cockhead as he called out William's name.

William felt Spike's channel clenching his finger rhythmically as his groin was flooded by cool wetness. He pulled Spike tightly to him and let his cock slip and slide in the cum between them, shuddering out his own orgasm as his prostate was stroked relentlessly - his own warm seed mingling with Spike's.

"Spike." They continued to move, thrusting lazily, both still trembling as they withdrew the fingers they'd been using to pleasure each other.

Spike was the first to speak, "I thought you were imaginin' you were with Charles." He trailed his mouth softly from William's lips over to nibble his ear.

"I was at first, but then I didn't need to - then I wanted it to be you. I thought you were pretending I was Charles as well." He pulled his ear away from Spike so he could suck lightly on the cool skin of the vampire's throat.

"I wanted it to be you from the moment I lay down beside you."

William lowered his head, pressing it to Spike's chest as they lay in each other's arms. "I'm glad it was you for my first time, and not that Angelus forcing me like you described."

Spike rubbed his face over William's soft curls. "I wish that it had been you for me too." He was moving his hands up and down William's back, softly stroking his warm skin.

"Yeah…that feels nice. Maybe you won't be leaving tonight?"

"Maybe."

"Why'd you stop touching me?"

"What do you mean? I'm touchin' you right now." Spike pressed his hands harder into William's shoulder blades.

"You took your hands off my back." William leaned back, trying to see Spike's face in the darkened room.

"No I didn't. Can you feel that?" He stroked harder, moving his hands down William's spine.

"I can't feel anything."

Suddenly Spike couldn't feel William's skin beneath his hands either. He pulled them off and tried to flex his fingers, but everything felt numb from just past his elbow. He couldn't feel his hands at all. Rolling away from William, he held them up in front of his face.

"Bloody hell!" They weren't there. He felt sick to his stomach and had a strange feeling at the base of his skull, as if there was a cord there - attached to the back of his head and pulling him away from William.

"William!" He heard the panic in his own voice and tried desperately to reach out for William with the hands he didn't seem to have.

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"They're re-attached Mr. Angel."

"Will they function normally?"

"Yes sir."

"What about the drug, could that have caused any lasting damage?"

"No Mr. Angel, it was an incredibly strong tranquilizer at a very high dosage - but he'll be just fine."

"Any side effects I should know about?"

"He'll probably have weakness and lack of sensation for a few days."

"Not there - mentally or emotionally?"

"Some will experience delusions or loss of some memories due to the high dosage. But he's a vampire, so it's a little hard to be sure."

"When will he wake?"

"Very soon."

"Thanks, I don't think we'll need anything else. I'll call you if there's a problem."

"Mr. Angel?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think it's advisable that you stay in the bed with him."

"I'm not really concerned with what you think is advisable. You can go now."

Spike felt himself floating slowly back to consciousness as he heard Angel's conversation. His hands were tingling and he felt warm all over, as if he were bound in blankets. As he woke fully, he realized that Angel was in bed with him - both arms wrapped around him, his back to Angel's chest. He lifted his hands slowly from where they rested in his lap, blinking his eyes against the light as he examined them.

"She cut them off."

"I know."

"How do they feel, do they hurt?" Angel loosened his hold on Spike's chest and let his hands move slowly down Spike's arms until they rested lightly on his hands.

"Don't feel like much of nothin' right now. Just a little tinglin'."

"How about your head?"

Spike swallowed hard, "Its fine. Why are you here anyway?"

He felt Angel shrug his shoulders, "Why wouldn't I be here? A member of my team is injured, of course I'm gonna want to be here."

"That what I am, a member of your team?" Spike felt suddenly colder, even with Angel's big arms wrapped around him.

"Yeah, of course you're one my team."

"Why are you here?"

"I just told you…"

Spike interrupted him, "Not here at the hospital, here in my bed - with your bloody arms wrapped round me."

"Well like I said, you're one of the team…"

Spike leaned up, trying to extricate himself from Angel's embrace. "Thanks for stoppin' by then. I know you must be very busy and need to get right back to the office 'n whatnot. Don't stay on my account."

Angel pulled Spike back to him, holding him even more tightly than before and he buried his face in Spike's hair. Spike sat stiffly in Angel's embrace. "Wait. That's not the only reason. When I couldn't find you tonight, I thought I'd lost you. I thought she'd dusted you. I…I couldn't believe how much it hurt, the thought of not having you at my side. Not fighting with you, not talking to you, not…being with you. I need you Spike, I need you with me."

Spike tilted his head back against Angel's shoulder and looked up at him, "As part of your team?"

"As part of my heart Spike," Angel leaned down and kissed Spike softly. "As all of my heart if you'd want that too - if you still want me at all after all of these years."

Spike lifted one of his hands, clumsily thumping it into the back of Angel's head and drawing him in for another kiss. "I want you," Spike answered simply.

"Why has it always been so easy for you to say exactly what you feel?"

The smaller vampire let his head drop, "It wasn't always so easy for me either, so I understand that this wasn't easy for you. It takes some of us a little longer to get to where we can talk about our feelins'."

Angel stroked one large hand over Spike's hair, "The doctor said you might experience some memory loss. Are you noticing anything like that?"

"No memories lost at all, maybe some gained." The last he spoke so softly Angel barely heard him.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"I'm sorry that I let you go after that slayer alone. I'm so sorry Will." He felt Spike tense under his hands.

"Please never call me that again. William's someone else entirely - I'm Spike."

"I understand. Spike?" He continued stroking Spike as his childe relaxed back against him.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Angel said it in a low voice, as if afraid that saying it too loudly might frighten them both.

"I knew you did."