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fic Spike Connor in LA
Hey all sorry for the gap. I have had a human post grave fic in my head for years now, recently the words started to come and I had to go with it. It has put my LA and Prophet to one side a little but don't worry I will get them on track soon. I have to get this down before I lose it again...as it stands I have almost twenty thousand words written. After I get the first draft set I can relax and get back to the fics that I know the ending off. Again I'm so very sorry but please bear with me.
This chapter is a little bit short, only few to go...
As ever Edi is the lady that makes this readable...
“Only part! Old part, only part. I need the whole, have to get the all but they give just a flicker flick then stop and I have to show from that little bit. Like skipping a song with half a rope, and it mightn't even be a half, could be an eighth or a quarter or three thirds and I wouldn’t know. If I could just see, why won’t they let me see? I’m bad, bad and wrong and dirty and stupid and I know I try to make right, do as bid, be obedient and humble as the book says a faithful servant should but I can’t know without the full instructions. Can’t see if the door is only open a little…”
“Demon! Demon, stop! Stop this.”
Struggling to prevent it from further harming itself, Connor was becoming tired and worried. When it had become upset he had asked Fred and Wes to leave, but it had not calmed. Now he was sitting on the floor, his arms and legs wrapped around it, and he couldn’t work out what had upset it or how to get it to stop. The thought of knocking it out had occurred, but the memory of how his steps had tacked to a blood drenched floor made all considerations of real force skitter away. The scent of his father, and then they were both lifted from the floor and set on the bed. Too upset to dispute, Connor relinquished his hold and allowed it to be taken from his arms and into his father's. He watched, shaking from what he told himself was fatigue, as the older demon pulled the younger tight to his chest and gripped its hands in one strong grip.
“Spike!”
“Spike, enough, calm down.”
“I can’t see it, s'like those riddles that have cheat answers and I was never good at such things, the others used to giggle as I struggled with answers that ran, an' no matter how fast I chase my fingers just won’t catch. I have enough on my back. Every day they claw an' moan an' now if I lose the end of the string, if the knot slips, more shall fall with only me to blame…”
“Ah Wil, hush lad.”
“Don’t force your medicines on it.”
Connor started as his father sighed, then changed into his second face before biting into its neck; it arched in protest and wailed. Before he could shake himself out of his fascinated shock, his father sliced his free arm on a fang and pushed it into the open mouth of the thrashing creature in his arms.
It choked; the wail cut off as the blood flowed into its mouth. The struggles began to weaken and gradually it settled against his father’s chest as it suckled. A few moments later it was asleep. His father changed to his human face, licked the wound on its neck and, without looking directly at Connor, carefully shifted it onto the centre of the bed.
Connor watched as his father gently covered it with blankets and indicated to Connor with a tilt of his head that they leave the room. Hesitating at the door, Connor looked back to see his father remove the tears from its face in a caress so familiar it was performed almost absently.
This chapter is a little bit short, only few to go...
As ever Edi is the lady that makes this readable...
“Only part! Old part, only part. I need the whole, have to get the all but they give just a flicker flick then stop and I have to show from that little bit. Like skipping a song with half a rope, and it mightn't even be a half, could be an eighth or a quarter or three thirds and I wouldn’t know. If I could just see, why won’t they let me see? I’m bad, bad and wrong and dirty and stupid and I know I try to make right, do as bid, be obedient and humble as the book says a faithful servant should but I can’t know without the full instructions. Can’t see if the door is only open a little…”
“Demon! Demon, stop! Stop this.”
Struggling to prevent it from further harming itself, Connor was becoming tired and worried. When it had become upset he had asked Fred and Wes to leave, but it had not calmed. Now he was sitting on the floor, his arms and legs wrapped around it, and he couldn’t work out what had upset it or how to get it to stop. The thought of knocking it out had occurred, but the memory of how his steps had tacked to a blood drenched floor made all considerations of real force skitter away. The scent of his father, and then they were both lifted from the floor and set on the bed. Too upset to dispute, Connor relinquished his hold and allowed it to be taken from his arms and into his father's. He watched, shaking from what he told himself was fatigue, as the older demon pulled the younger tight to his chest and gripped its hands in one strong grip.
“Spike!”
“Spike, enough, calm down.”
“I can’t see it, s'like those riddles that have cheat answers and I was never good at such things, the others used to giggle as I struggled with answers that ran, an' no matter how fast I chase my fingers just won’t catch. I have enough on my back. Every day they claw an' moan an' now if I lose the end of the string, if the knot slips, more shall fall with only me to blame…”
“Ah Wil, hush lad.”
“Don’t force your medicines on it.”
Connor started as his father sighed, then changed into his second face before biting into its neck; it arched in protest and wailed. Before he could shake himself out of his fascinated shock, his father sliced his free arm on a fang and pushed it into the open mouth of the thrashing creature in his arms.
It choked; the wail cut off as the blood flowed into its mouth. The struggles began to weaken and gradually it settled against his father’s chest as it suckled. A few moments later it was asleep. His father changed to his human face, licked the wound on its neck and, without looking directly at Connor, carefully shifted it onto the centre of the bed.
Connor watched as his father gently covered it with blankets and indicated to Connor with a tilt of his head that they leave the room. Hesitating at the door, Connor looked back to see his father remove the tears from its face in a caress so familiar it was performed almost absently.
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*pout* We'll be waiting here patiently though...yes, we will. You can write whatever's closest to your inspiration now... We'll be waiting for you to come back... *settles down to stay in LJ*
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Love, love, love the appearance of Angel, not to argue, just to do what Angel does best; there are times when someone needs to come in and just do, and I have to say I love Angel in that mode, even though he frequently is criticized for it.
Others have mentioned this, but it bears repeating. There's something so poignant about Connor referring to Spike as "it." As though he can't bear to acknowledge his connection. If he names this creature, he'll have to rethink his contempt for his father and family. At the same time, he's gone so far toward caring... poor, messed up child.
That last line killed me. I'll be waiting for more, patiently.
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Thank you again darlin
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I hadn't checked on your journal for a few days, and was so happy to see more.
Love this fic. Connor's alien-ness is dead on. All the boys are screwed up in their own way and unable to cross the distan to each other.
Keep on writing, and I'll be reading.
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More! What else?
I am just getting into the Spike/Conor fanfics
and I adore yours!
I hope you will soon write more and I desperately want to know how Angel fits in all this. Seeing very big jealousy clouds on the horizon...
Thanks for writing this, it's delicious to read.
Druffine
Re: More! What else?
Re: More! What else?
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