Her Saving Grace, 16/25?, Spike/Fred, R

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Sixteen of Twenty-Five?
Prompt: #36 - Batting a Thousand for tamingthemuse
Warnings: Character death (not the permanent variety)
Summary: An accident one night changes Fred's entire world. Shunned by the people who should care the most, she turns to the one person who does care, and finds something beyond friendship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Not even my mind these days.

Wordcount: 3270

Previous parts here



Pretty by spikeshunny





Pretty by me; please don't take.

Chapter 16: When It Rains, It Pours

The gentle sounds of rain tapping on the windows was the first thing she heard when she awoke. Her eyes felt swollen from her crying the night before; obviously even being a vampire didn't get you away from those types of things. She managed to open her eyes all the same, though, and found the room thankfully darkened. Thunder rolled outside, adding to the light drops on the glass panes.

That was her sight and hearing. Her touch and scent were busy with the man still holding her. Thank goodness vampires don't get pins and needles, she thought absently.

She could smell the scent that was uniquely his: gel, blood, and a mixture of something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. She knew it was Spike, though; no one else could have the scent he did.

No one felt quite like he did, either. Her hand was rested against his chest, palm and fingers splayed out across the black material of his t-shirt. Wrapped tenderly around her hand was Spike's. Her eyes rose to see his own eyes closed, but his thumb was still brushing over her skin, and the movement was a little too precise to be one of sleep. She slowly twisted her hand around until his palm was connected with hers, and her fingers were wrapped around his hand.

His eyes opened and immediately landed on her. She gave a small smile. “Hi,” she whispered, clearing her throat when it still came out raspy.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, and she thought she heard a faint trace of an upper English accent. It made her wonder just how well educated and brought up Spike had been before he'd been turned.

“Better than last night,” she admitted. Her heart still felt heavy in her chest, which she knew it couldn't physically do, but it still felt that way. It wasn't clenching painfully, though, and she knew that wasn't possible either really, even more so now that she was a vampire, but she'd certainly felt it last night.

“Good,” Spike said, leaning his head over to press his nose to the top of her head. She closed her eyes as he breathed in, and the intimacy of the moment that had nothing to do with kissing or anything sexual blew her away.

You're his, her demon whispered from inside her. And he's yours.

Don't I need a bond, or a claim, or something? she asked, her mind thinking back over all the vampire books she'd read.

She could swear her demon was laughing, but not at her. Child, they're nothing but ceremonies, like weddings or getting engaged. Something to be celebrated, to announce to everyone that you're officially together. The REAL bond, though...it's like any other relationship. It's between you and him. You know it.

She did. She really did. She could feel herself connecting to him, all of her slowly becoming wrapped around him, and she wondered if he felt the same way. From the way his own fingers were wrapped around hers, and his other hand gently wrapped around her arm to hold her, she knew he had to.

They sat that way for another ten minutes or so, before Spike spoke again. “You hungry, luv?”

Fred thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “I think food would be a good idea,” she said quietly. She could use something that would give her energy to get through today.

“I'll warm up a few pints,” he replied, pulling away to catch her gaze with his. There was something there in his eyes, something that looked suspiciously like love, and she'd never have thought that eyes could tell so much without speaking. Spike's could, though: she could read everything about him from his eyes. His lips parted as if he were going to say something, before he caught himself, biting his lower lip just so. He leaned forward once more, his lips parting again to place gentle kisses on her closed eyes.

“Go slip into something comfy, and wash your pretty face,” he murmured in her ear. “I'll take care of breakfast.”

It wound up actually being lunch; she hadn't realized they'd slept in so late. By the time the blood had been warmed up, she'd changed into a pair of jeans and a flowing t-shirt. Her face had felt better after she'd washed away the tear stains and pampered her swollen eyes. It had been a bit odd to look into the mirror and see nothing looking back at her. The washcloth had appeared as if it were floating in midair, and she'd amused herself by twirling it around, then placing it behind her and still being able to see it.

Spike offered to call Buffy while Fred drank her lunch. “If I don't, she'll come barrelin' down here, ready to fight somethin',” he muttered, and she grinned while she sipped.

“Why don't you try calling her with the new cell phones?” Fred asked, reaching across the counter for hers. “I really actually want to see how those things work.”

“Why not,” he said, grabbing his and pressing buttons. He paused a moment after having pressed a few, then glared at the phone, poking at the buttons as if they were infected with holy water.

“It won't bite you,” she said, giving a small giggle at his antics.

Spike just gave her a look. “You don't know that,” he said. “I wasn't worried 'till I saw the pretty graphics Red put into the screen; looks like magic explodin'.”

“So?”

“So I've been around her long enough to know that her spells often go wrong, so who's to say her technical mumbo jumbo doesn't do the same?”

After a few pokes, he tentatively put the phone up to his ear. Sudden ringing made Fred jerk her head towards the front door, and her surprise melted into a knowing smile. “Guess we didn't call her soon enough,” she said, taking her mug with her to answer the door.

Outside stood Buffy in a wet raincoat, sheepishly holding up the ringing cell phone. “Sorry,” she said. “You two didn't call in forever, and I got worried.”

“Mother hen,” Spike muttered.

“Hey, excuse me if I happen to be the Slayer,” Buffy said, stepping inside. She slid out of her soaked coat before she gave Fred a hug. “And I know that's supposed to be a Slayer these days, since I'm not the only one anymore, but the way some of those girls fight, I might as well still be the Slayer.” She gave Fred her full attention then, scanning her up and down. She ended her search at Fred's face, and a moment later gave an approved nod. “Glad to see you looking better.”

“Thanks,” Fred told her. “I don't feel as badly on the inside anymore either.”

“What are you really here for?” Spike said, stepping over. “Can't be for the Oreos; you two ate them all the other day.”

“You had other things as well: the Oreos were just the beginning,” Buffy said in a movie-announcer tone, causing Fred to grin. “Seriously, I stopped by to see how you two were. I know we're sort of doing the whole 'one step forward, two steps back' thing, but...”

“I know,” Spike said, and Fred found her hand slowly moving to her side. She wasn't really all that surprised when it met Spike's own moving hand, and their fingers entwined. “We'll move on. In the mean time, though, I think it'd be best if we avoided Wesley completely.”

Buffy nodded firmly, but Fred frowned. “Um, why? I know he really hurt my feelings, but that's just something between friends. I think, maybe, with a little time, that Wesley'll come around.” It had worked with Angel, hadn't it? She was certain it would work with Wesley, and right now, her heart was taking that hope.

But Spike still shook his head. “I'm not talkin' about friends havin' a few problems between them pet; I'm talkin' about the look on his face when he saw you.”

“He looked angry,” Buffy added softly. “He looked very angry to see you, Fred.”

“And disgusted, I know,” Fred mumbled. Spike's hand tightened around hers, and she squeezed back. Then she understood what they were getting at, and her head whipped up in alarm. “You don't think Wesley would...?”

Buffy shrugged uncomfortably. “It's not a happy scenario, but the way he looked at you...let's just say I wouldn't trust him alone with you.”

“I sure as hell wouldn't,” Spike said, and Fred knew he was growling.

It didn't make sense, though, what Wesley was doing and how he was behaving. Even as closed off and different as he'd been at Wolfram and Hart, she still couldn't imagine why he would hate her so much. The equation simply didn't add up. She really needed to talk to him.

If they were right, though, then getting near Wesley was not an option. She had to keep her distance, and she didn't think calling him would get her anywhere; he'd just hang up on her.

Fred took one last sip from the mug in her hand, then sighed and nodded. “I wouldn't trust him alone with me, either,” she said truthfully. “I do want to talk to him, but...”

“But not now,” Spike said, turning her towards him. “Please, pet?”

She bit her lip at the desperation and devotion he was regarding her with. “Okay,” she said softly, and he relaxed.

“That's really all I stopped by for,” Buffy said, heading for the kitchen. “I know I saw Chips Ahoy somewhere around here...”

Papers rustled. The cover of a book fell against the pages, causing a dull thud to echo in the air. An aggravated but soft sigh was heard, then the squeak of wheels as a desk chair rolled. One footstep, then two as someone moved in the room. When she was sure he was facing the window, Fred stepped inside the office.

“Hello, Wesley,” she said softly. He was looking out of the window, his back to her. She could see him stiffen, before he slowly turned around, eyes wary.

Fred simply stepped inside the office, raising her eyebrows at him. He moved towards her, and her right arm flew up, the miniature crossbow armed and pointed at his chest. “You might not be a vampire, but I'm going to bet it'll still hurt,” she said. That was the only warning he was going to get.

She'd been honest earlier with Buffy and Spike; she didn't trust Wesley alone with her, which was why she'd brought a friend by the name of Crossbow. Spike had probably already found her gone by now; she'd faked the need to feel clean, and one can only spend so long in the shower. She'd left the two blondes in the kitchen, with Buffy demanding chocolate and Spike insisting they didn't have any, even though everyone in the apartment knew there was quite a bit of chocolate in there. They'd been easy to sneak past.

Wesley's eyes homed in on the bolt locked firmly in place, then back up to her eyes. “I want to know why, Wesley,” she said quietly. “Why you acted like you did yesterday at the club, why you glared at me in anger and disgust. And I'm not leaving without an answer.”

He stared at her for a moment, and she used her foot to close the door. It clicked shut a moment later, and she raised the crossbow higher to his heart level, using her demon for more than one thing: courage to stand and aim a weapon at her friend, and reflexes that were sound so she knew she wouldn't hit him. “I mean it, Wesley,” she said. “I want an answer.”

To her surprise, he began to laugh. It started slow, a few stray chuckles escaping, and crescendoed to laughter that was almost hysterical. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, as if to stop the laughter, and she heard a sob. His eyes glistened with tears, and he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to calm himself.

The crossbow lowered slightly, but her demon kept her finger on the trigger. “Wesley, what...”

“It wasn't aimed at you,” he whispered, cutting her short. “Any of it. I wish it was; it'd be so much easier if it were. I...”

He opened his eyes then, and the pain in them made her stare in bewilderment. She didn't understand; what was going on here?

He shook his head, turning away towards the window. “I'm going to really bat a thousand,” he said, before emitting a hollow laugh. “I'm glad you brought the crossbow, Fred, I really am. It'll make this easier.” His voice sounded dead, and he was really starting to scare her.

“You read Dante's Inferno once, didn't you?” he asked in the same tone. “Which level was it that belonged to the traitors?”

Fred swallowed hard before answering. “The ninth circle. The lowest level of Hell.”

“It fits,” he said softly. “Only someone having committed such a foul deed should earn the company of Lucifer himself.”

The crossbow rose again, and she willed the strength of her demon to help with her now trembling fingers. Silence reigned in the office; there was little noise outside of it either. In the afternoon, there were few business deals. Most everything was done in the morning.

It had made getting into the building easy, getting to the right floor easy, getting inside his office easy. Leaving his office now was going to be the hardest part.

“'Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness',” Wesley said quietly. “How true. Seneca didn't mention anything about how long it would last, though. And that's where the problem is.

“The night we went to the club, do you remember it? Of course you do,” he answered when she made no reply. “How could you forget? You died that night. It's not the sort of thing you forget. Neither are crimes, even if ignorantly made.”

He slowly turned back to face her, and tears glistened in his eyes. “I could say that I didn't mean it and be completely truthful in it, but it doesn't do you any good now, does it?” he whispered painfully. “I should've known better. Never drink until...well, never drink at all. It got me into trouble before, I keep thinking, but...” He frowned then, reaching for his head. “The memory eludes me. It's like a prank, with someone pulling a dollar bill away by a hook from the person chasing after it.”

Fred understood that part; there was something seriously wrong with their memories. Any happiness she might've gotten out of the thought that she wasn't alone in that aspect was quickly killed by the rest of what Wesley was saying, which she still didn't really understand. “What are you trying to say?” she asked.

“I didn't know that he was a...a vampire,” Wesley said softly, and Fred froze. No. It couldn't...no. No no no. “I was simply having one drink too many at the bar, and he joined me. He brought up the topic of girls we'll never have, and I mentioned you, Fred.” One tear rolled free, tracing his cheek down to his chin. “Because a part of me knew that I never would have you. No matter what I did, I could never have you.”

Fred simply stared at him in horror. “You didn't...didn't...Wesley, no...”

“I told him that I'd lost you when you'd picked Gunn over me, and how it had killed me when you'd done it. How lost I'd felt, how depressed and agonized and rejected and I said I...I w-wanted you to know how I'd felt,” he choked out. “He must've taken the initiative, and when I saw him walk over to talk to you, all smiles, I called him a right bastard and ordered another drink. I though he was trying to be an ass by taking the girl I couldn't have from me. I never thought he meant to...Fred I'm so sorry, forgive me, please, I beg...”

He tried to speak again, but the words wouldn't come out, and he hung his head, his entire body shaking. She watched as his hands curled into fists, tight enough that the knuckles were white from the tension. She could smell the salt from the tears, could see his body wracked with sobs, and all she could do was stare, her own body starting to tremble as the horrible truth finally hit her.

Wesley was the reason she was a vampire now. Wesley had ultimately caused her death. Wesley, her Wesley, her friend, her once upon a time crush, her fellow literature lover...

His confession rocked her to her core. Her demon wasn't silent anymore: it was screaming within her at the injustice of it, even though his actions had led to its very birth. She felt helpless and lost, like she was drifting out at sea, numb from the cold and unable to swim anymore towards shore. What was shore anymore?

Spike, her demon told her immediately. Yes, she answered just as readily. Through it all, Spike would be her rock, her savior, her hero, her sire. He wouldn't abandon her. He would never put her through this. She knew despite his initial anger at her having left, he'd be there waiting for her when she returned to the apartment. She knew she was cared for, adored, worried over, loved.

It was that thought that grounded her and gave her the strength she needed. The crossbow was set down on the desk, and she stepped forward towards the broken man.

As soon as she began to dig in her purse for the keys, the door flew open, and her eyes locked with his. His face was blank, giving no indication of his emotions, and Fred slowly closed her purse back up. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I had to know.”

Spike continued to stare at her stony-faced, but his lower lip was trembling ever so slightly now. “You get what you wanted?” he said in a tone that was meant to be harsh but didn't really quite pull it off.

Fred nodded. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I got it,” she said, stepping forward. When Spike didn't move, she stepped forward again, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. A few moments later, his arms wrapped around her.

“He did give me something good,” she said, her fingers wrapping into his t-shirt. “The realization and knowledge that I love you.”

He tensed again, this time in surprise, before his arms tightened around her. “Fred...luv...”

“I mean it,” she said. “He gave me a formula that worked, and no matter what you put into the formula, the answer still comes out the same. It's always going to come out the same. I love you.”

She raised her head to look at him, and she was met with wonder and awe and his own love for her shining through. He smiled then, and it kept growing. “I love you, too,” he whispered, and he still looked amazed even as he said it.

She joined his smile, before taking him by the hand towards the sofa, closing the door first as they went. “You're going to want to hear it, but you're going to need to sit down for it. Trust me.”

< --- >

AN: The quote Wesley recites comes from a Roman philosopher by the name of Seneca. He had a lot of other quotes that were memorable; I found the rest of them here:

http://thinkexist.com/quotation/drunkenness_is_nothing_but_voluntary/166744.html

And yes, the manip was by me. I really wanted to try and capture that moment image wise, and I think I did an okay job with it.

~Nebula

Comments

[lilithbint.livejournal.com]

This was just lovely,
I don't really do het at all,
but these two, the way you have written them is wonderful.
Poor Wesley,
I like the twist on canon with Wesley being the cause of Fred's change.

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

That makes me especially happy, then, that despite you not usually reading het that you're reading mine! *is very happy*

I'm glad you liked it sweetie; I wanted to stay true to character without messing up too much, but what's fanfic if we can't change what we want?

~Nebula

[velvetwhip.livejournal.com]

This was a terrific chapter! And oh my gosh! It was all Wesley's fault!!!

Gabrielle

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Thanks sweetie; I'm really glad I got the shock value with this one! ^_^

~Nebula

[umbralillium.livejournal.com]

Ahh, so it was Wes, he just didn't do it on purpose. I get it! *giggle* Lovely chapter, babe! Gotta love the first confession of love. *le sigh*

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

*grins*

I thought you'd like the love part of it, since you were oh so anxious that they finally kiss and, as Monty Python would say, "Get on with it!" ~_^

~Nebula

[ex-dark-ami.livejournal.com]

Oh Wesley. *Pets him*

At least Fred has closure now. Loved the tender scenes between Spike and Fred.

Great chapter!

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

I know, I was so evil to him, and after I promised I wouldn't be...*pets him too* But at least we know he doesn't hate Fred.

Thank you oodles! ^_^

~Nebula

[samson28.livejournal.com]

Yeah for the spred love but poor, poor Wesley he just never gets the girl.

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

I know; Wesley's happy endings seem to find him standing alone, don't they? Poor man. I'll have to try and fix that for him...

Thanks so much sweetie! ^_^

~Nebula

[mentalme85.livejournal.com]

:D still absolutely loving this story! It's beautiful. *squishes*

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Hee, thank you sweetie! *purrs under squishes* I'm glad you're still enjoying!

~Nebula

[sockmonkeyhere.livejournal.com]

Still enjoying this story so much! I love your description of Fred waking up in the bed -- very sweet and subtle, and you've got Spike's mannerisms down perfectly.

[athenewolfe.livejournal.com]

hye hun! Got Just Rewards all back online and went ahead and loaded this up for you! *HUGS you tight*