Spike shifted back very slightly, crooking his neck just enough to push Angel's collar over the healing bite mark his Sire had given him. Slowly his eyes were reborn, taking in the absolute night that was spread out above him. It was only then that he noticed his Sire's distraction. He looked over to what so fascinated Angel, swaying closer to that guardian body.

Gabriel stepped out of the shadows and approached his grandfather. The young man sighed softly at the sight of Angel and Spike together. His vision had been pleasant, very much a change from the usual still photographs of death and violence. The reality that inevitably followed those flashes was grisly. This, however, was not. No, these two men, standing so close as to be one entity, glowing in sister-moon's shining light, they were good together. Gabriel had known when he'd gotten the vision that it was one of the rare good ones, a forewarning of something positive for once. Now that he'd seen it in person, he had no doubts; these two were for each other. However, given the opportunity, Angel would walk an easy path with Spike, one that would eventually crumble into a marsh of loss. He could prevent that, with a few simple words. "Good evening, Grandfather," he murmured, stopping a few feet from the men. Angel was...protective of Spike, that much was obvious.

"Gabriel," Angel acknowledged. Sensing Spike's curiosity, he bent his head to whisper in his childe's ear. "My grandson," He said, holding Spike to prevent any undesired flight.

"Grandson," Spike mouthed. But he wasn't a vampire. How could this be?

"Later," Angel said firmly. Spike took a deep breath and nodded. It was not for him to judge, to wonder or doubt. His Sire, his all things, would provide.

"Did you have another vision?" Angel asked Gabriel.

"Not tonight," The young man replied. "I was just in the neighborhood."

Angel smiled. "Trying to reach them before the dealers do?"

"Yes, and once in a great while I succeed," Gabriel shot back. "Are you going back to St-James now?"

"After the butcher's, yes," Angel confirmed. "Why?"

"You might want to stop by Place Montreal Trust. Open all night now, you know," Gabriel mentioned as he turned to leave. "And don't forget, you promised to help us out decorating for Christmas."

Angel led Spike back to his car, taking his childe in hand. He could barely take his eyes off the collar. The plain band of leather set off Spike's skin so nicely, accentuating his feral elegance. "Gabriel's father was my son. Connor," He began. Spike listened silently, accepting what his Sire would give him. And oh, how his Sire had suffered, all at the hands of a most cruel fate.

The drive through Montreal was a stretch of silences interspersed with hailstorms of revelation. Spike listened. Angel talked. With every new detail, Angel waited for Spike to rebel, to show his disgust and revulsion. This story was not one for the fainthearted or the casual companion. Still, Angel knew that come the next evening, he would be alone.

Spike followed Angel through the mall, obediently allowing his Sire to procure him less ratty clothing. That done, they went by the butcher's to lay by a store of blood. Angel spoke little after finishing his story and Spike added nothing. What was there to say? His beloved had lost more than Spike had ever possessed, swept up and tossed out like so much trash. Would that he could take that pain away, pull it into himself and soothe his lover's wounds.

Angel occupied himself with a few matters of business whilst Spike put away their purchases. He listened as the blonde rustled about, folding new clothes and placing them in the closet, setting containers of blood in the refrigerator. When Spike joined him in his office, he was naked but for his collar, gliding across the floor to wait by Angel's desk.

"The sun is nearly risen," Spike murmured, gently reminding his Sire that they were soon to sleep.

"Go to bed," Angel commanded. "I will be there shortly."

Spike slid out of the room, alone but wishing for company. ::Do not tarry, Sire, for your bed welcomes me not when you are absent.::

Angel finished shortly thereafter and retreated into his bedroom. Spike had said nothing, had not reacted to what Angel had told him. The elder vampire wasn't sure if he should be grateful or not. If Spike's only rationale for not screaming out his rage was a fear that Angel would in turn forswear him, the dark vampire would be greatly saddened. He did not want a companion who hated him but stayed out of fear and desperation. However, it was too much to hope that his childe would understand all that had passed in the decades that had separated them.

The bed dipped under Angel's weight, bringing Spike to its centre. Angel rested by his childe, basking in that satin presence. "You're thinking," Angel stated, noting his childe's alert state. "About what?"

::Your suffering and pain, Sire. How I would bear them for you.:: "You, Sire," Spike replied quietly.

"Me?" Angel echoed. "Why?"

Unable to deny his Sire, Spike brought forth his anguished heart. "That you have suffered so, lost so much. All those who you have loved are gone, washed away. Even this one, Gabriel, is forever shadowed by this past you share. And he, he is at arm's length from you. This suffering you should not have, Sire." Emboldened by his own words, Spike turned to gaze upon that beloved face. "Give this pain to me, Sire. I do not mind carrying it; being yours it would be sweet."

Angel gaped at his childe. Spike, if her was speaking truthfully, held no revulsion for his past, had no issue with his previous lives. Moreover, he wanted to share the burden of regret. Angel's eyes watered in honor of his childe, who was more the redeemed warrior than he. Was it not Angel who had doubted this creature's love, Angel who had feared Spike's flight? And now, to repay Angel's faithlessness, was this selfless offer of haven, of sanctuary and love. Angel was broken by this truth, this absolute and divine passion that Spike gave unto him. "Ah, Spike," Angel whispered. "How is it that are you my childe? It is beyond me to create such a giving soul."

Spike sighed sadly. His Sire, always so sorrowful. "That is not for us to question, Sire. We are, as we were and as we will be. I belong to you; I am yours as you have made me. So long as you want me by your side, there I shall remain." ::Please, Sire, see that I want you to have this, my soul and my self, all that is who I am. It is indeed yours.::

Angel crushed Spike to him, unable to bear the transcendent soul that shined out from his childe's opened eyes. He allowed himself the barest glimmer of hope, of faith and trust. This Spike, aged by pain and a soul he could not have possibly wanted, this Spike who came to him in grief and need, was truly his childe, flesh of his flesh and blood of his blood. His childe, who would walk beside him forever, always holding him together with his fiercely quiet, perfect love. "You will never leave me, Spike," Angel commanded, now confident that Spike would obey him. How could he not? Spike followed him out of love and devotion, the truest and surest bonds that ever did exist.

"I am yours, ever and always," Spike vowed, holding his Sire as tightly as he himself was held. Spike's soul swelled and pulsed, vibrant and full with the infinite passion he had for Angel. For this moment to exist forever Spike would give anything, would walk to the ends of the earth and back, would embrace the hated sun and repudiate his goddess moon. For this he would die by his own hand, vanquished to the hell he deserved. For this, for this he would love, as purely and completely as ever did a childe love his Sire.

Angel kept Spike in his arms all through the day, never once letting his childe wander even a centimeter from him. There would be time enough to suffer the loss of his childe, when nightfall came and work bade them part. But each day in the future would be moulded after this one; all of them a litany of oneness where Sire and childe would know no loss, no loneliness, no separation.

For the first time in decades, Angel sent up a true prayer, one of thanksgiving. He gave praise to whosoever chose to grace him with this that he had once thought lost. This gift was beyond compare and he would treasure it, hold on to it, and cradle it in his arms until the stars fell from the sky and their world was no more.