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Title: Withered Stumps of Time
Summary: Angel and Spike are trapped. They relive the day of Fred's death over and over. Will they be able to save her and finally break the awful loop?
Rating: Um, R probably.
Pairing: I think this might be just regular ol' general fic. Though there will be elements of Wes/Fred, Spike/Angel, Spike/Buffy...and I reserve the right to add any pairing to the list. heh.
Angel stared at the ceiling for hours, the events of the day turning over and over in his mind. He thought of every possibility, every choice, every action, every reaction, every endless moment of every unforgettable hour that lead to the final, overwhelming conclusion.
He could hear Spike in his living room. Drinking. Watching TV. He’d go home before dawn. Maybe.
If he could do it all over again, if he could change one thing, fix one mistake, he’d fix this. He’d save Fred. He’d keep her safe. Connor was in a better place, Cordelia was…in a better place, and they all thought they were doing the right thing. But Fred was the only good one among them, and she was the one who deserved to be alive, and safe, and happy.
If he could fix one thing…
~*~
“We're bigger. We're smarter. Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your pure aggressors!” Angel pointed out, his voice rising.
“You just want it to be the way you want it to be,” Spike responded.
“It's not about what I want!” Angel shouted.
“Sorry. Is this something we should all be discussing?” Wesley interrupted, catching Angel by surprise.
He spun around and answered quickly, “No…nothing. We were just…” He frowned, a very powerful sense of déjà vu washing over him. He could have sworn he had this conversation before, and while his discussions with Spike were usually tedious and frustrating, this one had a distinctly, familiar flavor to it.
“We were just…” Spike started.
“Spike!”
“What?”
“Haven’t we had this conversation before?”
Spike tilted his head and regarded Angel with a frown. “I…think…I think we have.”
“Yeah, me too,” Angel muttered. “Wes? Have you heard this before?”
Wes shook his head. “I’m not sure. What are we discussing?”
“Look, if an astronaut and a caveman had a fight, who would win?”
“The caveman always wins,” Angel muttered, inaudible to Wesley’s ears.
“Goddamn right the caveman wins!” Spike shouted triumphantly.
Angel felt like his head was divided into a massive puzzle and a piece was missing. Something…something important was just beyond his grasp. Something that had to do with the conversation and of course the caveman wouldn’t always win because astronauts have technology but…
The cavemen have magic.
Not just cavemen…demons…
“Fred!” Angel shouted.
“What?” Wes asked, “What about her?”
Spike’s eyes widened. “Fred.” Angel could see the final piece fall in Spike’s eyes, and he understood what Angel finally grasped.
“Come on.” Angel pushed past Wesley and Spike followed at his heels. He didn’t waste time to explain, he just made a bee-line for the lab. A dam broke in his mind, and the pain stained memories of events that never happened flooded his body.
“Spike…what’s going on?” Wes asked as they followed, his voice low and serious but not afraid. No panic. Why wasn’t he panicking? Why didn’t he know? Angel decided he would worry about that later. Now he had to get upstairs, and why the fuck wasn’t the elevator moving any faster?
“Boss?” Harmony said, running in her heels to catch up with him.
“Not now Harmony.”
“But…”
“Not now Harm,” Spike growled, pushing past Angel and pounding on the elevator. “It would be faster to take the bloody stairs.”
It was on the tip of Angel’s tongue to say, “The next time we will.”
The doors finally opened, and they all pushed into the elevator. Angel could see the question in Wes’s eyes, but he didn’t speak again. Just silently followed the vampires’ lead…Spike’s jaw was clenched, his eyes darting around wildly, and the time weighed on Angel’s shoulders.
“Has Fred received any…unexpected packages?” Angel asked.
“Yeah, anything you’d see in an old horror movie?” Spike added.
“What?”
“You know. Mummies…”
Wes shook his head. “Not that I know of. She hasn’t mentioned anything. But I haven’t seen her yet this morning.”
The elevator stuttered to a halt a floor below the lab, and Spike growled. “Bloody hell…what’s the hold up now?”
The doors opened and a harried intern tried to enter. “Wait for the next one,” Spike snarled before pounding on the button to close the door.
“Hey! I need to get upstairs for a meet--”
Angel was unconcerned with the young man’s problems, and didn’t hold the door for him. Each second they lost was absolutely crucial. Angel had no idea when Fred actually came in contact with Illyria, and he know how much time they actually had.
Finally the doors opened on Fred’s lab, and Angel and Spike fell all over each other to get there on time. Wes followed quickly, though without the hurried, frightened edge.
“Fred!” Angel shouted. “Fred, wait! Don’t touch anything…”
“What happened?” Knox asked.
“I don’t know,” Fred answered as the three men burst into the lab. “It opened…and there was air.”
Angel and Spike ground to a halt, their hearts sinking to the ground. “Too late,” Angel whispered.
“What is this?” Wes asked, touching the gray stone sarcophagus.
“I don’t know,” Fred answered. “Knox said we got it special delivery last night, but we don’t know where it’s from or what it is…”
Wes frowned and examined the stones. Angel and Spike didn’t move. Angel didn’t have to ask what was on Spike’s mind. He already knew.
“Well be careful,” Wes warned. “It could be dangerous.”
“I’m always careful,” Fred said with a pretty smile.
Wes responded with his own smile and Angel couldn’t stand to look. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know what had happened or how he knew it, but he knew he knew. And Spike knew. And Wes didn’t and neither did Fred.
~*~
Spike paced in Angel’s living room, angry and frustrated and hurt. The past 24 hours hadn’t been any fun the first time around, and it certainly wasn’t better the second time either. Watching Fred waste away, going to England only to find out they couldn’t do anything, failing again. And again.
Spike was tired of failing the girls he loved. Tired of vowing to protect them, only to watch them die because he wasn’t quick enough, or smart enough, or strong enough. Fred had been a really classy lady—sweet and strong and reminded him of all the reasons he had sacrificed himself for the world.
And she didn’t deserve to die that way.
Lost her soul. Lost the piece of her that made her Fred. He didn’t understand while her soul would be destroyed, but his was just waiting around for him to claim again. That wasn’t right. He didn’t even deserve his, and she certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her.
Spike was able to shrug off the repetition of the day. It had been odd, exhausting, frustrating, and in the end, pointless. But that seemed to be the story of his life, and sometimes, crazy shit happened. Or maybe he had just been dreaming the whole thing. It wasn’t the first time he relived the death of somebody over and over and over and over, looking for a way to change things.
Looking for a way to save her.
~*~
“We're bigger. We're smarter. Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your pure aggressors!” Angel pointed out, his voice rising.
“You just want it to be the way you want it to be,” Spike responded.
“It's not about what I want!” Angel shouted.
“Sorry. Is this something we should all be discussing?” Wesley interrupted, catching Spike by surprise.
Spike run around. “No, no, it’s nothing…” He paused, then decided Wes would probably agree with him. “Look, if a caveman and an astronaut got in a fight, who would win?”
“Do they have weapons?” Wes inquired.
Spike shook his head. Hadn’t they already had this conversation? Of course they didn’t have weapons. It would be hand to hand, nothing but teeth and claws and guts and fury. “No…but…Angel, haven’t we had this conversation?”
“I would remember something like--”
Spike’s eyes widened. Of course they would remember something like that—and Angel had agreed with him. He distinctly remembered Angel agreeing with him before they…
“Oh bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed. “Fred!”
“Fred? What about her?” Wes asked.
“Oh…Fred…Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” Angel said, rushing to the elevator. Spike grabbed his arm.
“Stairs. Faster that way.”
“Right.”
The vampires tore up the stairs, moving as fast as they could in the cramped space. Spike could hear Wes behind them, trying to keep up. He was fast, but not fast enough, and soon fell several flights behind them.
“Do you think we made it?” Angel asked as they slammed open the door when they finally reached the floor.
“I don’t know,” Spike muttered. It would have been easier if he had a watch, if he knew how much time they were working with. He had done this twice before. Why didn’t he know? Why didn’t one of them think to look? Angel supposedly had a photographic memory—though Spike was never convinced of the claim—why didn’t he remember?
They burst into the lab just as Wes reached the floor. Spike heard him crashing down the hall. Spike only had one thought in mind—to get her the fuck away from that twice damned sarcophagus. With a roar, he threw himself into Fred’s body and tackled her to the ground, just as Wes skidded to a halt inside the lab.
“What are you doing?” He demanded, grabbing Spike by the shoulders and hauling him off of Fred. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was just…”
Before he finished his explanation, Wes hit him in the face with a hard right, sending him sprawling to the floor.
“Wesley,” Angel said, grabbing the angry man and pulling him away from Spike. “Spike was just trying to help.”
“Help what?”
“Protect Fred.”
“By tackling her to the ground?”
“Wes…Wes I’m fine,” Fred said gently. “See? No broken bones.”
“Well he could have hurt you.”
“I’m sure he had a good reason for tackling me…Right, Spike?”
Spike pulled himself to his feet. “Did you touch it?”
“Touch what?”
“The sarcophagus?”
“Oh…yeah…and some air hit me in the face. It was odd. But don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Spike nearly whimpered with frustration. He leaned heavily on a nearby table, to light headed at the prospect of living this day again to keep his balance.
“Angel?”
“What?”
“Are we in hell?”
Summary: Angel and Spike are trapped. They relive the day of Fred's death over and over. Will they be able to save her and finally break the awful loop?
Rating: Um, R probably.
Pairing: I think this might be just regular ol' general fic. Though there will be elements of Wes/Fred, Spike/Angel, Spike/Buffy...and I reserve the right to add any pairing to the list. heh.
Angel stared at the ceiling for hours, the events of the day turning over and over in his mind. He thought of every possibility, every choice, every action, every reaction, every endless moment of every unforgettable hour that lead to the final, overwhelming conclusion.
He could hear Spike in his living room. Drinking. Watching TV. He’d go home before dawn. Maybe.
If he could do it all over again, if he could change one thing, fix one mistake, he’d fix this. He’d save Fred. He’d keep her safe. Connor was in a better place, Cordelia was…in a better place, and they all thought they were doing the right thing. But Fred was the only good one among them, and she was the one who deserved to be alive, and safe, and happy.
If he could fix one thing…
~*~
“We're bigger. We're smarter. Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your pure aggressors!” Angel pointed out, his voice rising.
“You just want it to be the way you want it to be,” Spike responded.
“It's not about what I want!” Angel shouted.
“Sorry. Is this something we should all be discussing?” Wesley interrupted, catching Angel by surprise.
He spun around and answered quickly, “No…nothing. We were just…” He frowned, a very powerful sense of déjà vu washing over him. He could have sworn he had this conversation before, and while his discussions with Spike were usually tedious and frustrating, this one had a distinctly, familiar flavor to it.
“We were just…” Spike started.
“Spike!”
“What?”
“Haven’t we had this conversation before?”
Spike tilted his head and regarded Angel with a frown. “I…think…I think we have.”
“Yeah, me too,” Angel muttered. “Wes? Have you heard this before?”
Wes shook his head. “I’m not sure. What are we discussing?”
“Look, if an astronaut and a caveman had a fight, who would win?”
“The caveman always wins,” Angel muttered, inaudible to Wesley’s ears.
“Goddamn right the caveman wins!” Spike shouted triumphantly.
Angel felt like his head was divided into a massive puzzle and a piece was missing. Something…something important was just beyond his grasp. Something that had to do with the conversation and of course the caveman wouldn’t always win because astronauts have technology but…
The cavemen have magic.
Not just cavemen…demons…
“Fred!” Angel shouted.
“What?” Wes asked, “What about her?”
Spike’s eyes widened. “Fred.” Angel could see the final piece fall in Spike’s eyes, and he understood what Angel finally grasped.
“Come on.” Angel pushed past Wesley and Spike followed at his heels. He didn’t waste time to explain, he just made a bee-line for the lab. A dam broke in his mind, and the pain stained memories of events that never happened flooded his body.
“Spike…what’s going on?” Wes asked as they followed, his voice low and serious but not afraid. No panic. Why wasn’t he panicking? Why didn’t he know? Angel decided he would worry about that later. Now he had to get upstairs, and why the fuck wasn’t the elevator moving any faster?
“Boss?” Harmony said, running in her heels to catch up with him.
“Not now Harmony.”
“But…”
“Not now Harm,” Spike growled, pushing past Angel and pounding on the elevator. “It would be faster to take the bloody stairs.”
It was on the tip of Angel’s tongue to say, “The next time we will.”
The doors finally opened, and they all pushed into the elevator. Angel could see the question in Wes’s eyes, but he didn’t speak again. Just silently followed the vampires’ lead…Spike’s jaw was clenched, his eyes darting around wildly, and the time weighed on Angel’s shoulders.
“Has Fred received any…unexpected packages?” Angel asked.
“Yeah, anything you’d see in an old horror movie?” Spike added.
“What?”
“You know. Mummies…”
Wes shook his head. “Not that I know of. She hasn’t mentioned anything. But I haven’t seen her yet this morning.”
The elevator stuttered to a halt a floor below the lab, and Spike growled. “Bloody hell…what’s the hold up now?”
The doors opened and a harried intern tried to enter. “Wait for the next one,” Spike snarled before pounding on the button to close the door.
“Hey! I need to get upstairs for a meet--”
Angel was unconcerned with the young man’s problems, and didn’t hold the door for him. Each second they lost was absolutely crucial. Angel had no idea when Fred actually came in contact with Illyria, and he know how much time they actually had.
Finally the doors opened on Fred’s lab, and Angel and Spike fell all over each other to get there on time. Wes followed quickly, though without the hurried, frightened edge.
“Fred!” Angel shouted. “Fred, wait! Don’t touch anything…”
“What happened?” Knox asked.
“I don’t know,” Fred answered as the three men burst into the lab. “It opened…and there was air.”
Angel and Spike ground to a halt, their hearts sinking to the ground. “Too late,” Angel whispered.
“What is this?” Wes asked, touching the gray stone sarcophagus.
“I don’t know,” Fred answered. “Knox said we got it special delivery last night, but we don’t know where it’s from or what it is…”
Wes frowned and examined the stones. Angel and Spike didn’t move. Angel didn’t have to ask what was on Spike’s mind. He already knew.
“Well be careful,” Wes warned. “It could be dangerous.”
“I’m always careful,” Fred said with a pretty smile.
Wes responded with his own smile and Angel couldn’t stand to look. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know what had happened or how he knew it, but he knew he knew. And Spike knew. And Wes didn’t and neither did Fred.
~*~
Spike paced in Angel’s living room, angry and frustrated and hurt. The past 24 hours hadn’t been any fun the first time around, and it certainly wasn’t better the second time either. Watching Fred waste away, going to England only to find out they couldn’t do anything, failing again. And again.
Spike was tired of failing the girls he loved. Tired of vowing to protect them, only to watch them die because he wasn’t quick enough, or smart enough, or strong enough. Fred had been a really classy lady—sweet and strong and reminded him of all the reasons he had sacrificed himself for the world.
And she didn’t deserve to die that way.
Lost her soul. Lost the piece of her that made her Fred. He didn’t understand while her soul would be destroyed, but his was just waiting around for him to claim again. That wasn’t right. He didn’t even deserve his, and she certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her.
Spike was able to shrug off the repetition of the day. It had been odd, exhausting, frustrating, and in the end, pointless. But that seemed to be the story of his life, and sometimes, crazy shit happened. Or maybe he had just been dreaming the whole thing. It wasn’t the first time he relived the death of somebody over and over and over and over, looking for a way to change things.
Looking for a way to save her.
~*~
“We're bigger. We're smarter. Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your pure aggressors!” Angel pointed out, his voice rising.
“You just want it to be the way you want it to be,” Spike responded.
“It's not about what I want!” Angel shouted.
“Sorry. Is this something we should all be discussing?” Wesley interrupted, catching Spike by surprise.
Spike run around. “No, no, it’s nothing…” He paused, then decided Wes would probably agree with him. “Look, if a caveman and an astronaut got in a fight, who would win?”
“Do they have weapons?” Wes inquired.
Spike shook his head. Hadn’t they already had this conversation? Of course they didn’t have weapons. It would be hand to hand, nothing but teeth and claws and guts and fury. “No…but…Angel, haven’t we had this conversation?”
“I would remember something like--”
Spike’s eyes widened. Of course they would remember something like that—and Angel had agreed with him. He distinctly remembered Angel agreeing with him before they…
“Oh bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed. “Fred!”
“Fred? What about her?” Wes asked.
“Oh…Fred…Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” Angel said, rushing to the elevator. Spike grabbed his arm.
“Stairs. Faster that way.”
“Right.”
The vampires tore up the stairs, moving as fast as they could in the cramped space. Spike could hear Wes behind them, trying to keep up. He was fast, but not fast enough, and soon fell several flights behind them.
“Do you think we made it?” Angel asked as they slammed open the door when they finally reached the floor.
“I don’t know,” Spike muttered. It would have been easier if he had a watch, if he knew how much time they were working with. He had done this twice before. Why didn’t he know? Why didn’t one of them think to look? Angel supposedly had a photographic memory—though Spike was never convinced of the claim—why didn’t he remember?
They burst into the lab just as Wes reached the floor. Spike heard him crashing down the hall. Spike only had one thought in mind—to get her the fuck away from that twice damned sarcophagus. With a roar, he threw himself into Fred’s body and tackled her to the ground, just as Wes skidded to a halt inside the lab.
“What are you doing?” He demanded, grabbing Spike by the shoulders and hauling him off of Fred. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was just…”
Before he finished his explanation, Wes hit him in the face with a hard right, sending him sprawling to the floor.
“Wesley,” Angel said, grabbing the angry man and pulling him away from Spike. “Spike was just trying to help.”
“Help what?”
“Protect Fred.”
“By tackling her to the ground?”
“Wes…Wes I’m fine,” Fred said gently. “See? No broken bones.”
“Well he could have hurt you.”
“I’m sure he had a good reason for tackling me…Right, Spike?”
Spike pulled himself to his feet. “Did you touch it?”
“Touch what?”
“The sarcophagus?”
“Oh…yeah…and some air hit me in the face. It was odd. But don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Spike nearly whimpered with frustration. He leaned heavily on a nearby table, to light headed at the prospect of living this day again to keep his balance.
“Angel?”
“What?”
“Are we in hell?”
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From:
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You have me intrigued... can't wait to read
it againmore.From:
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From:
Yeah!
OH and love word choices: nearly whimpered in frustration.
You can clearly see this in your head.
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(Just, I kept thinking, couldn't they use the phone instead of the elevators? Call Fred and ask her to stay away from the sarcophagus)
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This is a great idea - I'll look forward to more!
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But the boys are frantic and not thinking straight.
This is hell. Poor guys.
Can't wait to see where you take this!
From:
Living in Hell.