Spangel Ficlet
Jul. 4th, 2006 12:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damnednforsakenWhen I was writing this, I guess I had the challenge for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slashthedrabble in my head because there's no dialogue, just mentions of speech and it's exactly 1000 words. So I'm gonna post it there, too.
Title: Red Silk Scarf
Author: Catheryne
Rating: PG-13 at worst
Warning(s): slash m/m, angst, *Give tissues* You will need them this time.
A/N: I got the idea for something like this when I was watching Two Brothers. I'm warning you right now, it's not something I'd usually write. It's sad. Like actually sad not just I'm feeling sad while writing this. Also, don't ask who has them, I have no idea. They're just some unnamed bad guys. We'll say it's a couple of the Senior Partner's goons or something. This is very sad. I'm saying that again so you have been warned.
Feedback: Please? I'll write some more Spangel if I get some feedback.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and I'm making no money off of this story.
Angel had long since given up. He'd been in this cell for god knew how long. And God sure as hell wasn't gonna tell him. He hadn't moved for weeks. His captors finally gave up with the more rigorous tests as they saw him give up. Now, they moved on to slow torture and the torture had a name. In the past, he was known as William. To Angel, he was a past lover, a past friend, a past companion, and also thought to be dead.
So, when a very much alive Spike was thrown in to the cell next to his, surprise barely registered on his face before he smothered it. Spike being Spike, he fought tooth and nail against the guards before being thrown into his new home. He sat grumbling where he fell while he surveyed what there was of his surroundings. Then the familiar thing in his surroundings finally dawned on him and he ran to the other side of his prison, rattling the bars to get Angel's attention.
Angel wouldn't give it. He just turned his back and lay down in the opposite corner, facing the wall. Facing away from Spike and showing he didn't care. Well, now Spike just couldn't and wouldn't have that. He kept rattling the bars and shouting various insults ranging from Angel's parentage to his sexual preference. When that didn't work, he started making little mewling noises in the back of his throat, hoping to appeal to Angelus if need be to get a reaction out of his Sire.
Soon enough, though, it dawned on him that neither Angel nor Angelus wanted anything to do with him. Gradually, he stopped making noise with the bars and started pacing, still making the little mewling noises. Soon after, he stopped moving, just lay near the part of his cage-like cell closest to his Sire. A Sire that wanted nothing to do with him. Finally, he gave up any attempt at anything, not drinking the blood left for him or making any sound. Not even the almost silent whimpers he had been emitting almost subconsciously found their way out of his lips.
Their captors watched the entirety of the exchange, or lack of it, and began commenting within ear shot that they may as well dust the littler vamp. He was no good to them the way he was and they were losing the money they paid for him. When that got no reaction out of Angel or Spike, they marked this experiment off as a failure and made the decision to dust the both of them with the dawning of the new day.
After they left, Angel's brain suddenly kicked into overdrive. They were going to kill his boy. His boy. He was still alive. Slowly, Angel unwound himself from the way he had been curled up against the wall and padded his way over to the other side of his cage, looking for all the world like a graceful tiger, despite his obvious lack of nourishment.
He pulled something out of his coat that was always with him no matter what. It was a thin, blood red scarf that William had given Angelus long ago as a Christmas present. To his face, Angelus scoffed the gift and had beaten the young fledge soundly, saying that proper demons didn't celebrate Christmas. Later, though, Angelus had locked away the scarf, keeping it with him to this very day.
Pulling himself out of the past, Angel flicked the scarf out, holding a corner of it. The remainder of the scarf floated slowly down to land on a part of Spike's face, tickling a his ear as it was pulled back to Angel. Spike didn't stir, but much like his errant Childe, he didn't give up that easily. He repeated this until Spike moved his hand to swat whatever was bothering him. When Spike's fingertips came in contact with the material, his eyes flew open, clear and lucid for the first time in a long while.
He sat up quickly and looked Angel in the eyes. His own seemed to question why Angel would keep the old present. Angel just cocked an eyebrow at him and Spike smiled almost sheepishly. Then it hit him that Angel was paying him attention. He shuffled closer to the bars that separated them and started up the slight mewling sounds he had made upon his arrival.
Angel answered the vulnerable, animalistic sounds with a soothing purr of his own and reached out a hand to pull his boy to him through the bars. He nuzzled into his neck and whispered against it what their unknown captors had planned for them. They had no plan of their own, save one. They dust each other at the same moment so they didn't even have to be apart again in death.
Spike had rejected that immediately. He'd rather have his Sire hold him when he died. Angel countered that by saying he didn't want Spike to suffer any more than he had. They argued as silently as they could for the longest time but soon, they heard footsteps. Spike's cerulean eyes grew wide in panic and he gripped his Sire's hand.
Angel squeezed the hand in his and put a stake in the twin to the one he was clutching. He nodded slightly as he placed a stake to his Childe's heart, joking a little about how many times he'd wanted to do just that. Spike shook his head at that but said he wanted one last thing from Angel before he died for good.
Angel cocked his head to the side as if to ask what and Spike leaned in, pressing their lips together one last time. Just as the door was opening, their stakes struck true and their captors saw their prisoners burst out into dust.
All that was left of the only two ensouled vampires was a thin red scarf covered in what seemed to be shimmering star dust.
slashthedrabble in my head because there's no dialogue, just mentions of speech and it's exactly 1000 words. So I'm gonna post it there, too.Title: Red Silk Scarf
Author: Catheryne
Rating: PG-13 at worst
Warning(s): slash m/m, angst, *Give tissues* You will need them this time.
A/N: I got the idea for something like this when I was watching Two Brothers. I'm warning you right now, it's not something I'd usually write. It's sad. Like actually sad not just I'm feeling sad while writing this. Also, don't ask who has them, I have no idea. They're just some unnamed bad guys. We'll say it's a couple of the Senior Partner's goons or something. This is very sad. I'm saying that again so you have been warned.
Feedback: Please? I'll write some more Spangel if I get some feedback.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and I'm making no money off of this story.
Angel had long since given up. He'd been in this cell for god knew how long. And God sure as hell wasn't gonna tell him. He hadn't moved for weeks. His captors finally gave up with the more rigorous tests as they saw him give up. Now, they moved on to slow torture and the torture had a name. In the past, he was known as William. To Angel, he was a past lover, a past friend, a past companion, and also thought to be dead.
So, when a very much alive Spike was thrown in to the cell next to his, surprise barely registered on his face before he smothered it. Spike being Spike, he fought tooth and nail against the guards before being thrown into his new home. He sat grumbling where he fell while he surveyed what there was of his surroundings. Then the familiar thing in his surroundings finally dawned on him and he ran to the other side of his prison, rattling the bars to get Angel's attention.
Angel wouldn't give it. He just turned his back and lay down in the opposite corner, facing the wall. Facing away from Spike and showing he didn't care. Well, now Spike just couldn't and wouldn't have that. He kept rattling the bars and shouting various insults ranging from Angel's parentage to his sexual preference. When that didn't work, he started making little mewling noises in the back of his throat, hoping to appeal to Angelus if need be to get a reaction out of his Sire.
Soon enough, though, it dawned on him that neither Angel nor Angelus wanted anything to do with him. Gradually, he stopped making noise with the bars and started pacing, still making the little mewling noises. Soon after, he stopped moving, just lay near the part of his cage-like cell closest to his Sire. A Sire that wanted nothing to do with him. Finally, he gave up any attempt at anything, not drinking the blood left for him or making any sound. Not even the almost silent whimpers he had been emitting almost subconsciously found their way out of his lips.
Their captors watched the entirety of the exchange, or lack of it, and began commenting within ear shot that they may as well dust the littler vamp. He was no good to them the way he was and they were losing the money they paid for him. When that got no reaction out of Angel or Spike, they marked this experiment off as a failure and made the decision to dust the both of them with the dawning of the new day.
After they left, Angel's brain suddenly kicked into overdrive. They were going to kill his boy. His boy. He was still alive. Slowly, Angel unwound himself from the way he had been curled up against the wall and padded his way over to the other side of his cage, looking for all the world like a graceful tiger, despite his obvious lack of nourishment.
He pulled something out of his coat that was always with him no matter what. It was a thin, blood red scarf that William had given Angelus long ago as a Christmas present. To his face, Angelus scoffed the gift and had beaten the young fledge soundly, saying that proper demons didn't celebrate Christmas. Later, though, Angelus had locked away the scarf, keeping it with him to this very day.
Pulling himself out of the past, Angel flicked the scarf out, holding a corner of it. The remainder of the scarf floated slowly down to land on a part of Spike's face, tickling a his ear as it was pulled back to Angel. Spike didn't stir, but much like his errant Childe, he didn't give up that easily. He repeated this until Spike moved his hand to swat whatever was bothering him. When Spike's fingertips came in contact with the material, his eyes flew open, clear and lucid for the first time in a long while.
He sat up quickly and looked Angel in the eyes. His own seemed to question why Angel would keep the old present. Angel just cocked an eyebrow at him and Spike smiled almost sheepishly. Then it hit him that Angel was paying him attention. He shuffled closer to the bars that separated them and started up the slight mewling sounds he had made upon his arrival.
Angel answered the vulnerable, animalistic sounds with a soothing purr of his own and reached out a hand to pull his boy to him through the bars. He nuzzled into his neck and whispered against it what their unknown captors had planned for them. They had no plan of their own, save one. They dust each other at the same moment so they didn't even have to be apart again in death.
Spike had rejected that immediately. He'd rather have his Sire hold him when he died. Angel countered that by saying he didn't want Spike to suffer any more than he had. They argued as silently as they could for the longest time but soon, they heard footsteps. Spike's cerulean eyes grew wide in panic and he gripped his Sire's hand.
Angel squeezed the hand in his and put a stake in the twin to the one he was clutching. He nodded slightly as he placed a stake to his Childe's heart, joking a little about how many times he'd wanted to do just that. Spike shook his head at that but said he wanted one last thing from Angel before he died for good.
Angel cocked his head to the side as if to ask what and Spike leaned in, pressing their lips together one last time. Just as the door was opening, their stakes struck true and their captors saw their prisoners burst out into dust.
All that was left of the only two ensouled vampires was a thin red scarf covered in what seemed to be shimmering star dust.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-04 08:27 am (UTC)You weren't kidding!
But, it was a beautiful kinda sad.
We can only hope that they end up in the same place together, whether it be a hell dimension because they were damned or something better because they were redeemed....
Great work, Catheryne
C
DFAS Giles (signed into personal journal)
p.s. I've even got a thunderstorm, here, for background noise. LOL
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-04 02:39 pm (UTC)You weren't kidding!
Course I wasn't! I don't warn people lightly and I figured I'd give fair warning because I usually don't write stories like this.
As far as their redemption, I don't think the Powers would let them go to something really nice because of what they were, but I'd like to think that because of everything they've done, the guys got to go to a not so bad hell dimension. (If there is such a thing...)
Thanks so much, hun.
~Catheryne
p.s. I totally planned it that you'd have a thunderstorm. I knew it would work for my mood I was setting up. Lol.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-04 02:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-04 02:40 pm (UTC)