Fic: High (5/5) *Complete! Woohoo*
Mar. 4th, 2007 08:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpireTitle: High
Author: girlpire
Rating: E for everyone?
Pairing: Gen, a minor reference to Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Post-NFA. What's left of Team Angel is fighting the good fight in Chicago, and a vision leads Spike and Angel down into the sewers to rescue a young English man called Jacob.
Warnings: None in this part.
Author's Notes: This story is a prequel to [Like Drowning], the Angel/Kate story I wrote last summer. Since this comes chronologically before that one, you don't need to have read it to understand this one. It's based on these prompts from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
frimfram: Spike saving Angel, a ghost train, and a reference to St. Petersburg.
*The story has been broken into five parts.
[One.]
[Two.]
[Three.]
[Four.]
This is part five.
Previously: A strange look suddenly comes over Spike's face. He shakes it off and tries to continue, "Decides to - to get blitzed on... this, ah... before he..." Spike closes his eyes for a second, swaying. He starts to tip over, but Illyria, head cocked to one side, grabs his shoulder to keep him upright. He opens his eyes again a moment later and looks over at Jacob, now grinning broadly. "The hell is in this stuff anyway?" Spike asks him. "It's bloody fantastic!"
High, Part 5 of 5
*
Spike is humming. It's a pleasant song, although Jacob doesn't recognize it. The blond has a cloth and a bowl of water, and he's wiping the blood from Angel's wounds in the same rhythm that he's humming in, tapping out the beat with the toe of his boot and bobbing his head as he works. He looks as though he's listening to an Ipod and has forgotten not everyone can hear the music, but he isn't. It's just playing in his head. He doesn't seem to mind that his clothes are hanging from him in tatters.
Jacob wonders how Spike became the nursemaid of the group. He just seems a little too... gruff isn't really the word. Reluctant, certainly. Like it's inconvenient. He doesn't seem to want to be the one who tends the wounds of the others, but he's quicker about it than Gunn could be, more gentle than Illyria, and Jacob gets the impression that Angel is often the one who needs the doctoring, so the responsibility falls to Spike anyway. Of course, this time he doesn't mind at all; he's cheerfully whistling a bridge as he removes the crossbow bolt from Angel's hand. But if he weren't so happy right now, he'd probably be complaining about having to clean up the other vampire again.
If he were one of them, Jacob wonders, how would he fit in? Would he take over as nursemaid? He knows he couldn't be a fighter, and Gunn seems to have everything else covered. How useful could a sort of biologist, sort of writer actually be to a group of paranormal detectives? He doesn't have anything to offer them.
He hasn't gone to the hospital yet to treat the deep bite mark on his neck. He knows he ought to, but he's reluctant to leave. If he leaves, he may not ever see these people again, and they're the only people he's met in Chicago so far with whom he's felt a genuine connection. He hadn't really thought about how lonely he had been before, but now that he feels as though his welcome may soon wear out, he doesn't want to go.
Of course, he hadn't particularly enjoyed being nearly killed twice. Well, he'd enjoyed it the first time, but that doesn't count. He feels certain he wouldn't have enjoyed it under normal circumstances. And if he insinuated himself into this group, in whatever capacity, it's likely that he would be nearly killed again. Perhaps many times. Perhaps one of those times, he would actually die. There's a disturbing thought.
But they're doing good work here, aren't they? Exciting work - saving the world! That's how Spike had put it. And if you're going to die anyway - which you are - it might as well be for the good of the world, right?
Jacob watches Gunn hold another blood bag to Angel's lips. Not that they would ask him to stay and join up. The vampire, without opening his eyes, bites into the bag. The mark on Jacob's neck tingles under the cloth he's holding to it. He'd just be a liability.
There are two chairs in the room. He's sitting in the one farthest from the bed, and Illyria is watching him from where she stands in the corner. He looks up at her and gives her a little smile. Her expression doesn't change. She's completely still, and he wonders for a moment if she's gone to sleep, but then she walks over to him. "I wish to know your thoughts," she says quietly. "Speak them."
He sees Gunn glance over with an eyebrow raised. "I was just thinking," Jacob replies, "that I ought to go soon."
Illyria tilts her head to one side in the manner of a bird considering an insect. "Why?" she asks him.
"Well... because things are back to normal now, aren't they?"
Spike laughs under his breath. "Normal," he says. "Yeah, right."
Gunn is grinning. He gestures to the bag of blood he's still feeding Angel. "You think this kind of thing is normal?" he asks. He turns to Spike and sighs, "He's already becoming one of us."
"Was bound to happen, all that time you spent with him," Spike says, wrapping a bandage around Angel's palm. "I probably shouldn't have saved him that second time. Could have spared him some terrible memories, at least. But you know how I am - can't deny my heroic nature and all." He smirks.
"Terrible memories?" asks Jacob.
"Oh, yeah," Spike says. "Working with Angel here - actually having any sort of relationship with him at all - and the bad experiences tend to add up. I remember this one time in St. Petersburg--" At a look from Gunn, he abruptly stops. "Story for another time, then," he says.
"Did you say working with?" Jacob asks. He sits up a little straighter in his chair, tries not to look too hopeful. "Working with, as in--"
"We thought maybe you could help out now and then," Gunn explains, "if you have the time. Fresh perspective, you know? We could pay you. Not very much, but we do sometimes get a little something from our clients. Maybe on a case-by-case basis, we could--"
"The fact is," Spike interrupts, "if it hadn't been for you figuring out his insides were just for show, we'd still have an evil bastard chained to the bed, instead of this regular, run-of-the-mill bastard. Which is only a slight improvement, really, but it's still an improvement. Depending on who you ask."
"Your continued presence is required," Illyria says. "You cannot leave." She says it as though the matter is settled, and Spike snorts a small laugh.
Gunn chuckles a little embarrassedly. "What she means is--"
"I desire him," Illyria says. "I will not allow his departure."
Spike and Gunn look at each other, amused. Jacob blinks. He feels the back of his neck turn red. "I... ah..."
"He desires me as well," she adds.
"You can start immediately," says Gunn. "We don't actually have a case right now, but--"
"Guys," a quiet voice interrupts. Jacob, Gunn, Spike, and Illyria look at Angel. His eyes flutter open as Gunn pulls the emptied blood bag away from his mouth. "Don't I get a say in this?" he asks.
"No," says Spike.
"Sorry, man," Gunn agrees. "You're recently evil. Privileges revoked for three days; you know how it is."
Angel sighs wearily and closes his eyes again. "Fine," he says. "But at least let him decide for himself."
"The decision has been made," says Illyria.
"He's got to say it, pet, not you," Spike tells her.
Jacob is a bit overwhelmed, but excited nonetheless. "Of course," he says. "Of course, yes, I'd love to work with you."
"Great, it's settled," says Gunn. "It's a good thing I haven't ordered the new business cards yet. I'll make sure your name is added." He pauses for a second and smiles. "Hey, now I won't be the only one with a last name." Then he frowns. "You do have a last name, don't you?" he asks. "It's not just Jacob?"
Jacob smiles. "Yes," he says. "I'm sorry, I suppose I never introduced myself properly. My full name is Dr. Mark Jacob Wyndam-Pryce."
This sentence is followed by a very long and unexpected silence. Gunn, Spike, and Illyria all stare at Jacob, and he begins to feel slightly self-conscious. "I've always gone by my middle name," Jacob ventures hesitantly. "That isn't a problem, is it?"
Gunn and Spike look at each other. Jacob can't read their expressions. Illyria looks as though she's examining him all over, his hair, his ears, his eyes especially. He swallows, wondering if he's said something offensive.
It is Angel who finally breaks the uncomfortable spell in the room. Still manacled to the bed, his eyes closed, the vampire says, "Alright. He stays."
*
Higher beings are supposed to be objective. That's why they don't allow many former humans into their little floaty club - because apparently, former humans have a vested interest in the goings-on Down There and will try to manipulate the timeline in order to accomplish their own personal goals. A higher being is supposed to allow what happens to happen without intervention. Without any interference whatsoever from anyone, Good would always triumph over Evil and there would actually be no need for Heroes or Champions of any sort, because things would always work themselves out on their own.
Once, near the Beginning, a formerly human higher being interfered - thinking he was doing something helpful - and it all went to crap. Changing one thing caused the entire timeline to veer off course, and Bad things started happening that outweighed the Good things. The higher being was punished obviously, but it was too late. The other highers had to recruit Champions, designate Messengers, and organize an active retaliative movement against the Evil that was suddenly triumphing all over the place.
Everyone Up Here has been grumpy ever since.
For the most part, they still allow things to happen. Only when they look ahead and see an unavoidable Evil happening do they interfere, and only in a very small way. A message, a prophecy, a vision. Everything still has to be done by the humans, who are, lets face it, extremely difficult to work with. Other highers have tried in the past to find the Original Interference and change it back, but their efforts have been in vain. The last one resulted in the largely embarrassing Disco movement, and no one has tried since for fear of a similar catastrophe. For which this particular higher being is exceedingly grateful.
Technically, she wasn't supposed to interfere on Jacob's behalf. He hadn't been destined for Great Things. He had been destined for Lunch. When confronted by the other highers, the only justification that she could come up with was that he was the first cousin of a former Hero, who, before being tragically killed in the fight against Evil, had been best friends with a current Champion, and by sending the Champion to rescue and befriend him, she was... somehow... reinforcing the Champion's... mental... wellbeing? Of course it had all come out much more convincing than that. (She could have been a great actress.) They allowed it, and she filed Jacob under L for lunch, and proceeded to watch a rather entertaining couple of days in the lives of her former friends.
If she had known about the Angelus thing, she maybe would have rethought the interference, but Jacob had actually proven himself kind of useful in coming up with a solution, which was pleasing. He sort of reminds her of Wesley when she first met him, only less stuffy. Plus there was that whole thing with Spike in Angel's bedroom, which she's watched many many times because, in the words of one of the other highers, Damn, that shit's hot.
In the two years since the big fighty fight in the alley back in L.A., Jacob is the only waking vision she's sent her Champion - the other hints and tips appeared in dreams, since those are more difficult for the other higher beings to detect. But now that she's renewed the link between them, she's anxious to communicate more. There are so many people in his new city that need saving, and so few people who are capable of doing it. She and the other highers can hold off the Evil that's searching for him long enough to get in a few saved innocents. And the innocents are the tally Evil uses to see who's winning.
She's looking Down at him now. Not quite healed up yet, but he will be very soon. She looks forward several hours and does a sweep. There. There's one. A child. Children are extra points.
She'll give him a couple hours to regroup, then hit him up with another vision. Maybe she can sneak in a more personal message, too. (She's formerly human, after all, and freely admits having a vested interest.) Maybe something like:
"Hello, salty goodness.
Take more showers for me.
Higher love, Queen C."
*
end.
*
Author: girlpire
Rating: E for everyone?
Pairing: Gen, a minor reference to Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Post-NFA. What's left of Team Angel is fighting the good fight in Chicago, and a vision leads Spike and Angel down into the sewers to rescue a young English man called Jacob.
Warnings: None in this part.
Author's Notes: This story is a prequel to [Like Drowning], the Angel/Kate story I wrote last summer. Since this comes chronologically before that one, you don't need to have read it to understand this one. It's based on these prompts from
frimfram: Spike saving Angel, a ghost train, and a reference to St. Petersburg.*The story has been broken into five parts.
[One.]
[Two.]
[Three.]
[Four.]
This is part five.
Previously: A strange look suddenly comes over Spike's face. He shakes it off and tries to continue, "Decides to - to get blitzed on... this, ah... before he..." Spike closes his eyes for a second, swaying. He starts to tip over, but Illyria, head cocked to one side, grabs his shoulder to keep him upright. He opens his eyes again a moment later and looks over at Jacob, now grinning broadly. "The hell is in this stuff anyway?" Spike asks him. "It's bloody fantastic!"
High, Part 5 of 5
*
Spike is humming. It's a pleasant song, although Jacob doesn't recognize it. The blond has a cloth and a bowl of water, and he's wiping the blood from Angel's wounds in the same rhythm that he's humming in, tapping out the beat with the toe of his boot and bobbing his head as he works. He looks as though he's listening to an Ipod and has forgotten not everyone can hear the music, but he isn't. It's just playing in his head. He doesn't seem to mind that his clothes are hanging from him in tatters.
Jacob wonders how Spike became the nursemaid of the group. He just seems a little too... gruff isn't really the word. Reluctant, certainly. Like it's inconvenient. He doesn't seem to want to be the one who tends the wounds of the others, but he's quicker about it than Gunn could be, more gentle than Illyria, and Jacob gets the impression that Angel is often the one who needs the doctoring, so the responsibility falls to Spike anyway. Of course, this time he doesn't mind at all; he's cheerfully whistling a bridge as he removes the crossbow bolt from Angel's hand. But if he weren't so happy right now, he'd probably be complaining about having to clean up the other vampire again.
If he were one of them, Jacob wonders, how would he fit in? Would he take over as nursemaid? He knows he couldn't be a fighter, and Gunn seems to have everything else covered. How useful could a sort of biologist, sort of writer actually be to a group of paranormal detectives? He doesn't have anything to offer them.
He hasn't gone to the hospital yet to treat the deep bite mark on his neck. He knows he ought to, but he's reluctant to leave. If he leaves, he may not ever see these people again, and they're the only people he's met in Chicago so far with whom he's felt a genuine connection. He hadn't really thought about how lonely he had been before, but now that he feels as though his welcome may soon wear out, he doesn't want to go.
Of course, he hadn't particularly enjoyed being nearly killed twice. Well, he'd enjoyed it the first time, but that doesn't count. He feels certain he wouldn't have enjoyed it under normal circumstances. And if he insinuated himself into this group, in whatever capacity, it's likely that he would be nearly killed again. Perhaps many times. Perhaps one of those times, he would actually die. There's a disturbing thought.
But they're doing good work here, aren't they? Exciting work - saving the world! That's how Spike had put it. And if you're going to die anyway - which you are - it might as well be for the good of the world, right?
Jacob watches Gunn hold another blood bag to Angel's lips. Not that they would ask him to stay and join up. The vampire, without opening his eyes, bites into the bag. The mark on Jacob's neck tingles under the cloth he's holding to it. He'd just be a liability.
There are two chairs in the room. He's sitting in the one farthest from the bed, and Illyria is watching him from where she stands in the corner. He looks up at her and gives her a little smile. Her expression doesn't change. She's completely still, and he wonders for a moment if she's gone to sleep, but then she walks over to him. "I wish to know your thoughts," she says quietly. "Speak them."
He sees Gunn glance over with an eyebrow raised. "I was just thinking," Jacob replies, "that I ought to go soon."
Illyria tilts her head to one side in the manner of a bird considering an insect. "Why?" she asks him.
"Well... because things are back to normal now, aren't they?"
Spike laughs under his breath. "Normal," he says. "Yeah, right."
Gunn is grinning. He gestures to the bag of blood he's still feeding Angel. "You think this kind of thing is normal?" he asks. He turns to Spike and sighs, "He's already becoming one of us."
"Was bound to happen, all that time you spent with him," Spike says, wrapping a bandage around Angel's palm. "I probably shouldn't have saved him that second time. Could have spared him some terrible memories, at least. But you know how I am - can't deny my heroic nature and all." He smirks.
"Terrible memories?" asks Jacob.
"Oh, yeah," Spike says. "Working with Angel here - actually having any sort of relationship with him at all - and the bad experiences tend to add up. I remember this one time in St. Petersburg--" At a look from Gunn, he abruptly stops. "Story for another time, then," he says.
"Did you say working with?" Jacob asks. He sits up a little straighter in his chair, tries not to look too hopeful. "Working with, as in--"
"We thought maybe you could help out now and then," Gunn explains, "if you have the time. Fresh perspective, you know? We could pay you. Not very much, but we do sometimes get a little something from our clients. Maybe on a case-by-case basis, we could--"
"The fact is," Spike interrupts, "if it hadn't been for you figuring out his insides were just for show, we'd still have an evil bastard chained to the bed, instead of this regular, run-of-the-mill bastard. Which is only a slight improvement, really, but it's still an improvement. Depending on who you ask."
"Your continued presence is required," Illyria says. "You cannot leave." She says it as though the matter is settled, and Spike snorts a small laugh.
Gunn chuckles a little embarrassedly. "What she means is--"
"I desire him," Illyria says. "I will not allow his departure."
Spike and Gunn look at each other, amused. Jacob blinks. He feels the back of his neck turn red. "I... ah..."
"He desires me as well," she adds.
"You can start immediately," says Gunn. "We don't actually have a case right now, but--"
"Guys," a quiet voice interrupts. Jacob, Gunn, Spike, and Illyria look at Angel. His eyes flutter open as Gunn pulls the emptied blood bag away from his mouth. "Don't I get a say in this?" he asks.
"No," says Spike.
"Sorry, man," Gunn agrees. "You're recently evil. Privileges revoked for three days; you know how it is."
Angel sighs wearily and closes his eyes again. "Fine," he says. "But at least let him decide for himself."
"The decision has been made," says Illyria.
"He's got to say it, pet, not you," Spike tells her.
Jacob is a bit overwhelmed, but excited nonetheless. "Of course," he says. "Of course, yes, I'd love to work with you."
"Great, it's settled," says Gunn. "It's a good thing I haven't ordered the new business cards yet. I'll make sure your name is added." He pauses for a second and smiles. "Hey, now I won't be the only one with a last name." Then he frowns. "You do have a last name, don't you?" he asks. "It's not just Jacob?"
Jacob smiles. "Yes," he says. "I'm sorry, I suppose I never introduced myself properly. My full name is Dr. Mark Jacob Wyndam-Pryce."
This sentence is followed by a very long and unexpected silence. Gunn, Spike, and Illyria all stare at Jacob, and he begins to feel slightly self-conscious. "I've always gone by my middle name," Jacob ventures hesitantly. "That isn't a problem, is it?"
Gunn and Spike look at each other. Jacob can't read their expressions. Illyria looks as though she's examining him all over, his hair, his ears, his eyes especially. He swallows, wondering if he's said something offensive.
It is Angel who finally breaks the uncomfortable spell in the room. Still manacled to the bed, his eyes closed, the vampire says, "Alright. He stays."
*
Higher beings are supposed to be objective. That's why they don't allow many former humans into their little floaty club - because apparently, former humans have a vested interest in the goings-on Down There and will try to manipulate the timeline in order to accomplish their own personal goals. A higher being is supposed to allow what happens to happen without intervention. Without any interference whatsoever from anyone, Good would always triumph over Evil and there would actually be no need for Heroes or Champions of any sort, because things would always work themselves out on their own.
Once, near the Beginning, a formerly human higher being interfered - thinking he was doing something helpful - and it all went to crap. Changing one thing caused the entire timeline to veer off course, and Bad things started happening that outweighed the Good things. The higher being was punished obviously, but it was too late. The other highers had to recruit Champions, designate Messengers, and organize an active retaliative movement against the Evil that was suddenly triumphing all over the place.
Everyone Up Here has been grumpy ever since.
For the most part, they still allow things to happen. Only when they look ahead and see an unavoidable Evil happening do they interfere, and only in a very small way. A message, a prophecy, a vision. Everything still has to be done by the humans, who are, lets face it, extremely difficult to work with. Other highers have tried in the past to find the Original Interference and change it back, but their efforts have been in vain. The last one resulted in the largely embarrassing Disco movement, and no one has tried since for fear of a similar catastrophe. For which this particular higher being is exceedingly grateful.
Technically, she wasn't supposed to interfere on Jacob's behalf. He hadn't been destined for Great Things. He had been destined for Lunch. When confronted by the other highers, the only justification that she could come up with was that he was the first cousin of a former Hero, who, before being tragically killed in the fight against Evil, had been best friends with a current Champion, and by sending the Champion to rescue and befriend him, she was... somehow... reinforcing the Champion's... mental... wellbeing? Of course it had all come out much more convincing than that. (She could have been a great actress.) They allowed it, and she filed Jacob under L for lunch, and proceeded to watch a rather entertaining couple of days in the lives of her former friends.
If she had known about the Angelus thing, she maybe would have rethought the interference, but Jacob had actually proven himself kind of useful in coming up with a solution, which was pleasing. He sort of reminds her of Wesley when she first met him, only less stuffy. Plus there was that whole thing with Spike in Angel's bedroom, which she's watched many many times because, in the words of one of the other highers, Damn, that shit's hot.
In the two years since the big fighty fight in the alley back in L.A., Jacob is the only waking vision she's sent her Champion - the other hints and tips appeared in dreams, since those are more difficult for the other higher beings to detect. But now that she's renewed the link between them, she's anxious to communicate more. There are so many people in his new city that need saving, and so few people who are capable of doing it. She and the other highers can hold off the Evil that's searching for him long enough to get in a few saved innocents. And the innocents are the tally Evil uses to see who's winning.
She's looking Down at him now. Not quite healed up yet, but he will be very soon. She looks forward several hours and does a sweep. There. There's one. A child. Children are extra points.
She'll give him a couple hours to regroup, then hit him up with another vision. Maybe she can sneak in a more personal message, too. (She's formerly human, after all, and freely admits having a vested interest.) Maybe something like:
"Hello, salty goodness.
Take more showers for me.
Higher love, Queen C."
*
end.
*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 08:41 am (UTC)There will be new adventures, right?
no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 12:28 pm (UTC)I don't think the coincidence thing would've worked so well without celestial Cordy. With her discreetly pulling the strings you can can away with stuff like that, no problem.