suki_blue | Fic: Pandemonium

Series Title: From out of Nowhere

Story Title: Pandemonium

Pairing: Spike/Xander, Angel/Doyle

Rating: NC-17 for violence and potty mouth

Warnings: Some amount of angst.

Summary: Angel seeks retribution for his family

Previous parts of the series have all been completed and are HERE.

Previous 5 Chapters in the tag.

Beta'd by the Ultimate Beta,

kitty_poker1

The smoke stopped them in their tracks long before the heat would have been able to. It was as though the entire city was on fire and Xander was positive that even if it had been daytime, Spike would have been perfectly safe beneath the thick blanket.

“What…?” Xander felt Spike leaning heavily against him. He suspected that it was partly because of his injuries and partly because, like him, Spike needed the contact.

It was all gone – a city block wiped out in one fell swoop. Along with Angel Investigations.

“You don’t think…?” Xander began again. He couldn’t quite get the words out. They were too painful, way too devastating. Angel and Doyle couldn’t be gone.

“Maybe they went out for…milk. Blood?” Xander suggested. “Captain Crunch? You know, I definitely finished off the last box so…and that would explain the milk, too.” A cool hand took his and squeezed.

“What do we do?” Xander asked, emotion thick in his voice.

Spike stared into the flames. There was only one thing they could do. They couldn’t dive into the flames and look for their bodies. And they couldn’t just assume they were dead. That was unthinkable. But they could seek immediate retribution.

“Come on.” Spike tugged at Xander’s hand.

“Where? Just…where? We don’t even know who did this. Where do we start?”

“The only place we know. Pandemonium.”

“Okay,” Xander said uneasily. “But we didn’t actually find anything there.”

“No, but it’s the only place that we’ve snooped around asking dangerous questions.”

“Lately,” Xander corrected.

“That damn bouncer knows something,” Spike growled through a mouthful of fangs. “Fucking set us up, didn’t he?”

“You don’t seriously expect him to be at the club?”

“’Course.”

“Wouldn’t he be lying low, waiting for the dust to settle?”

“Not if he thinks we’re all dead.”

“Good point. Who do you think he works for?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. We’ll take ‘em all down. Tonight, we slaughter the fucking lot of them.”

Xander wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to manage that. There were three major players to choose from – K’bat, the drug dealer, Isaac, the arms dealer and Sharl, the god knows what. They still didn’t even have an inkling what he was all about.

As with most crime lords and Mafia type bosses, these three were hidden in the shadows, protected by their followers and even their victims. The chance that they could get close enough to even make a rude gesture was remote. And that was being optimistic.

There was also a part of Xander that hoped they wouldn’t get close enough. What chance did the two of them stand against three demon armies? It was all too possible that they’d just lost Doyle and Angel. Would losing each other make that better?

A guilty look crossed Xander’s face.

“What?” Spike asked, looking back at him.

“Nothing.”

“We’ll find them,” Spike reassured, misunderstanding the look.

Xander nodded and wondered which one of them Spike was trying to reassure. Even despite the fangs and the threats, Spike was way too calm. A sudden thought flashed through his brain.

“Can you feel him? Angel? Do you feel him.”

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. Can’t not feel him. I reckon I’d know if he was gone, like I’d know if you were. ‘Course, if you were gone I wouldn’t be here either, would I?”

“Yeah. I’d forgotten about that.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow. “Funny thing to forget about, eh?”

“I guess. Just…I saw the apartment and…”

“Fear kicked in?”

“Yeah. The worst fear. The fact that if you were really dead, dead, I’d be dead by default and I wouldn’t know that you were dead, dead, because I’d be dead didn’t even cross my mind. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, but only to me. Don’t try that explanation on anyone else, though, or you’ll end up in the nuthouse.”

Spike’s tone was light, but Xander could hear the strain underneath. He slipped his arm around Spike’s waist and took some of his weight, receiving a slightly embarrassed half-smile in return.

“We should check on Cordy on the way. I know she hasn’t been involved but, well, you never know.”

**

Angel stopped in front of the club. Something felt wrong – weird. Something that gave him ‘the wiggins’, even through his rage.

It was the quietness, the lack of people and demons on the street. No traffic, no noise. Nothing.

The explosion had been enough to rock the city and scare the population into running as far away as possible. Terrorists? Gang warfare? Alien invasion? It could be any number of things that required the populace to be elsewhere.

But the strange thing? The inside of the club was teeming with demons. Two hundred plus heartbeats hammered away inside. The chattering of the young, the grumbles of the elderly, deep bellows of the large, light, dulcet tones of the small – Angel could hear demons of all kinds crowded behind Pandemonium’s door.

Good. That just meant more demons to terrorise and torture until he got his answers. Angel pulled a blade from his jacket and kicked open the door.

**

“What took you guys so long?!” Cordelia was furious. Her eyes blazed and her nostrils flared with uncontrolled anger.

“I’ve been waiting for you guys for, like, forever!”

“Uh…” Xander started.

“Didn’t you get my message?!”

“No, princess,” Spike said sarcastically. “We were far too busy getting shot, but thanks, I’m sure it was a splendid message. Sing happy birthday to Xan, did you?”

“No, but I did get attacked… wait, you both got shot?” Cordelia finally noticed the rumpled and bloody appearance of her friends. “Oh, god. What happened?”

“We got shot,” Spike repeated impatiently.

“You got attacked?” Xander cut in, elbowing Spike for his rudeness. “What happened?”

Cordelia pointed at the unconscious demon on her carpet. “This ugly thing happened. He tried to skewer me!”

“Looks like you skewered him,” Xander observed as he wrinkled up his nose and stepped away. “Euw, what is that?”

“A chopstick. What?! It was all I could find at short notice! And it was him or me. And my blood would so not go with this outfit.”

“Industrious, Cor. I applaud. Listen, we just came by to check on you. Something’s happened.”

“Like what? Are Angel and Doyle okay? What was that noise outside? What is going on?”

“Nothing, ducks.” Spike took Cordelia’s arm and led her to the couch. What was the point in telling her that Angel Investigations was gone? What was the point in telling her that Angel and Doyle were probably dead? He was sure that he could feel Angel out there somewhere; he’d almost be willing to stake his un-life on it. But Doyle?

“Nothing? So nothing is the reason that you’ve got more holes in you than a really bad X-files plot?”

“Angel upset someone,” Spike started to explain before Cordelia butted in.

“News flash. I also heard today that someone invented the wheel.”

“Look, we just wanted to see if you’re alright, Cordy. Which you are. So you stay here, okay? It isn’t safe outside.” Xander paused and looked down at the body. “We’ll get rid of this for you, and you…”

“Yeah, I heard, stay. You better be paying me for this. I’m supposed to be working a shift.”

“Angel said double time.”

“No, luv. Triple,” Spike corrected Xander.

“Really? Well, in that case, happy to help.”

Cordelia bounced onto the couch and reached for her Cosmo magazine. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Spike and Xander lifted the demon body from each end and began to drag it out. Their movements were slower than usual and held an edge of pain.

“Um, guys? You two are okay, right? All that blood…”

“Totally superficial,” Xander cut in. “Better than it looks. Don’t worry.”

Cordelia nodded, suddenly unsure. “And Angel and Doyle?”

“Are fine. Trust me.” Xander tried a lopsided grin that didn’t quite come off.

Cordelia nodded and went back to her magazine. Something wasn’t quite right…

**

Angel stepped inside the club, prepared to fight and prepared to die. Avenging the death of his family was all that mattered now. No-one dared to cross the mighty Angelus and they would all learn the same of Angel. Just because he had a soul didn’t mean he couldn’t cut a few demons and break a few necks.

Helping the helpless was once all about redemption, making up for a million past sins, but then things had changed. He’d finally found his true happiness in the form of Doyle. Things had been shaky, granted, but he truly loved Doyle and the thought that he was gone cut through him like a poisoned blade. So then redemption had become only about what he did. It was a thing. Like people that swam a lot. It was their thing. It was no longer about trying to dull the painful ache of evil. It was just a thing that he did. Why?

Because he was the vampire that cared.

Angel nearly laughed at himself. Look where that had got him.

His family, gone. Spike – his Childe, Xander and Cordy; he didn’t know for sure that they were dead, but…

Angel looked properly around him. This was not a club full of drinkers and clubbers.

Scattered in large clumps around the club were families of demons. Mothers and their children, fathers with their sons and mothers with daughters and family pets. Grandparents and a strange demon guard rabbit. These weren’t the sorts of demons that he was expecting.

“Angel?”

Angel turned at the sound of the familiar voice. “Gagan.”

Gagan nodded in greeting. “I have something of yours.”

“My entire life?” Angel asked bitterly. “Because that’s exactly what I’m missing.”

“Part of it, perhaps. Follow me.”

Angel trailed along behind the blue demon, unsure of why he was trusting her. Circumstances should have meant that he never trusted again, but instead he just felt numb. His grip was loose on the dagger – unready and careless. Part of him – most of him – just wanted to die.

Without Doyle he was nothing and without Spike as well he was even less. As much as his Childe wound him up on a regular basis, Angel couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from him again. His Childe, his Spike, his son.

Angel briefly thought about asking Gagan about the families in the club or if she knew who’d just destroyed him, but the effort was too great. The memories of his family consumed him and he realised with a dull thud in his gut that, when all was done and their deaths were avenged, it would be the end.

Walking down a dark corridor that smelt faintly of lavender, Angel could just make out two voices. Both male, one definitely demon and similar to Gagan’s with its almost aquatic reverberation. In his head, Angel could hear Doyle. A memory sprang into his head – Doyle and Xander talking as they descended in the elevator at Angel Investigations. Doyle was consoling and soothing; he’d always had the perfect voice for that, his smooth Irish accent relaxing you into a gentle haze. The world’s problems seemed to vanish every time he spoke.

“Angel? Angel, man, I… You’re alive. I can’t believe…”

Angel found himself staring straight into Doyle’s red rimmed eyes.

“Doyle?” He was frozen in place, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. Doyle was here? At Pandemonium? “How…?”

“Gagan phoned, just after you left.”

Angel tried to take in what he was hearing, but he was scared. It was almost as though if he moved or spoke too fast Doyle would disappear in puff of smoke. “I thought…”

Doyle rolled his eyes and smiled despite the fact that his heart was nearly ripped in two. “Fuck this, man. I gotta touch you.”

Angel opened his arms and closed his eyes as Doyle rushed into his embrace. He gripped him tightly and vowed to never forget how this moment felt, to never forget how much he loved and adored this man.

“Doyle, if I never ever tell you again, I love you more than any other. I can’t ever lose you.”

Doyle smiled into Angel’s shoulder and looked up. Gripping Angel’s face in his hands, he brought his lover’s face down for a tender kiss. As their lips touched, Doyle wondered if everyone felt the same spark that he felt every time they kissed their lover. It was electric, a perfect moment in time that literally blocked out everything else and turned the world into a universe of only two.

It must have been an eon before Doyle managed to open his eyes. “I love you.”

Angel brought him close and squeezed him again. “The others?” he asked. “Where are they?”

Doyle shook his head. “We haven’t been able to contact them. Not yet.”

Angel nodded and pulled back. They had to be alive. They had to be alive.

“I’m gonna try Cordelia again, though. Her phone was engaged last time.”

Angel didn’t answer, couldn’t allow himself to hope. He turned to Gagan instead. “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on. Quick version.”

Gagan nodded and opened her mouth to speak.

“You must be Angel,” a deep voice interrupted.

Angel neither confirmed nor denied. “And you are?”

“Sharl.”

Angel’s eyes widened at the admission. He gripped the knife tighter in his hand and stalked towards the demon. “You’re responsible for this?”

Sharl raised his tentacles in defence. “I’d like to think not.”

Angel stopped and looked the demon up and down. “You’re the barman, right?”

The demon nodded. “Yes. I own Pandemonium. Gagan, here, is my daughter.”

“So much for helping us,” Doyle spat, glaring at both Gagan and her father.

“You have a short memory, crossbreed,” Gagan spat back. “I saved you, did I not?”

“Yeah, maybe you did. But I’m getting the feeling that it was for a reason.”

Angel paced to the other side of the room. It was better to be further away from anyone that he had the urge to put through a wall. “Explain. Now.”

“I am Sharl,” the demon started. “I control the area surrounding Pandemonium. I provide a relatively safe haven for those that do not wish to be under the control of a dictatorship.”

“Meaning?” Doyle asked.

“K’bat and Isaac. They run drugs, deal in arms, control the neighbourhoods through fear and violence.”

“And just how do you provide such a safe haven?” Angel wasn’t sure this was the time to be laughing, but the demon had come up with an amusing notion.

Sharl shrugged. “Through a name.”

“Pandemonium?”

“No. Sharl. I have built a reputation. Under the cloak of night I have snatched their drugs and beaten the persecutors. I have blown up their weapons and uncovered their Fight Clubs. This I do through the name of Sharl.”

“Not your real name, I’m guessing,” Doyle put in.

Sharl shook his head.

“So, you’re a vigilante?” Angel asked.

“To some. A hero to others, even though none have seen my face. But to them, to K’bat and Isaac, I am a rival. They think I steal their drugs for my own gain. They think I destroy their guns to improve my own position. I am sheathed in darkness and they fear my name alone.”

“And the reason they’re trying to kill me and my family?”

“You have been unfortunate enough to approach at a time of great unrest and suspicion. K’bat and Isaac are at odds over territory and broken promises. They did not appreciate you and your family asking questions. This was inevitable.”

Doyle glared at Gagan. “Thanks for letting us know,” he said sarcastically.

“We do not normally get involved with outsiders,” Sharl continued before his daughter could speak. “We do what we can to protect our own. It is all we can do. But Gagan convinced me to help you. We got word of the hit and called your office. There was nothing else we could do before K’bat’s people struck.”

Angel fixed the demon with an expressionless stare. He wasn’t sure what to believe. There was one thing for certain: K’bat had ordered the hits and Gagan’s phone call had saved Doyle. But surely if Sharl was powerful enough to inflict fear on K’bat and Isaac, he would have been powerful enough to stop what had happened altogether.

“I do not hold power,” Sharl suddenly said, guessing Angel’s thoughts. “I merely hold the illusion of it. There are no drugs and guns here because this is Sharl’s territory. This fear of the unknown keeps them away. Angel, I am no champion; I simply want peace for my family and friends.”

“What about the bouncer?” Doyle asked, saving Angel the trouble of thinking of a response. His lover was clearly swinging somewhere between fury and thankfulness.

“Ah, yes. Breeta,” Gagan mused. “We had always been suspicious of him. But you know what they say about keeping your enemies close.”

“No, really?” said a voice from the doorway. “I always say keep your friends close and your enemies dead.”

Relief washed over Angel like a great tidal wave. It cleared his head and made him feel like stumbling to a corner to sit with his head between his legs. “Spike,” he breathed.

“Yeah, it’s mostly Spike,” Xander pointed out. “But I think some of him is missing.”

“You’re covered in holes,” Doyle observed. “Get shot?” Joking was sometimes easier. Especially when the other option was to fling your arms around a vampire you didn’t even know that well. Xander, he knew. Spike? The opportunity had never presented itself.

“You’re funny,” Spike said dryly.

But Xander wasn’t going to put up with the cool greeting. He made his way over to Doyle and Angel and put his arms around them both. He laid his head on Angel’s shoulder and just rested. He smiled to himself as he felt warm and cool arms sliding around him.

“So, everyone’s alive, then?” Spike called over. He was still lounging by the doorjamb, to all appearances looking like he could care less.

Xander turned in the mass of arms and smiled. “You wanna come join the group hug?”

“Mind if I don’t? Sappy lot, you are.”

Angel untangled himself from Xander and Doyle and made his way over to Spike. “Childe,” he whispered once he was close. He brought his hands up to rest on Spike’s shoulders before bringing them up further to cup his Childe’s face and kiss his forehead.

“I’m alright,” Spike protested, although not very vehemently. “You alright?” he asked, too casually.

“I am now. Now you’re all here.” Angel allowed himself to close his eyes just for a second; just a second to be thankful before he moved on to business. He suddenly remembered something. “Cordy!!”

It was Xander who answered. “Oh, she’s fine. We already looked in on her.”

“She’s not hurt?” Angel asked.

“Nope. But the demon that tried to kill her learned the hard way how chopsticks should never be used.”

There was no reason why Angel should have gotten the joke. Instead, he stared at the front of Xander’s shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

“You were shot?”

Spike rolled his eyes at that.

Xander just nodded.

Angel let go of Spike and approached Xander. The front of Xander’s shirt was covered in blood, and there was a big tear that signalled where the bullets had gone in.

“Just aches,” Xander explained. He wondered why he suddenly felt nervous. “Feels like someone kicked me.”

Angel lifted the shirt and squatted down to get a closer look. Sure enough, there were two holes just big enough to be entrance wounds for a pair of bullets. They were partially healed, but were still seeping watery blood.

“We should get that cleaned up,” Angel said as he stood. “Do you need anything, Xander? Painkillers?”

“Actually, an aspirin or five would be great. Kinda got a headache.”

“I’m not surprised,” Angel said, not unkindly. He looked at Xander with affection and gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Oi! What about me?!” Spike cried. “I got shot, too, you know! I might like an aspirin. Look at me! I’m covered with holes. He’s only got two!”

The protest was blatant, a ploy to get the focus off Xander and onto himself. The weirdness that was Xander’s brush with death was something that needed to be looked at and explored. Was this an unexpected benefit of being a consort, or was it an Isis thing? Perhaps it was a bit of both. But it wasn’t something for discussion now.

Gagan smiled kindly at Xander and excused herself, promising to be back with aspirin or some such painkiller. While she was gone, Sharl motioned for everybody to sit.

“What’s going on with all the demons?” Xander asked, motioning his head towards the main area of the club. “Looks like they’re either camping out to get Sting tickets or there’s trouble afoot. I’m going with trouble afoot.”

“Because there’s always trouble afoot,” Doyle agreed, keeping one eye on Xander to make sure he didn’t fall instead of sit.

“No, because Sting isn’t touring until next year. And even that’s a rumour.”

Sharl nodded. It may be a rumour but it was hinted at on his official site. “The death of Breeta reached K’bat faster than anticipated.”

“The bouncer’s dead, eh?” Spike said in a surprised tone. “What a damn shame. How’d that happen, then?”

“I suggest you ask Angel, here.”

Everybody slowly turned to look at Angel.

“You didn’t, man?” Doyle shook his head. “Blimey O’Reilly,” he muttered.

Angel coughed, a touch embarrassed. “I didn’t exactly have much of a choice.”

“So I heard,” Sharl replied. There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “The details were sketchy. All K’bat knew was that Breeta was dead, his throat sliced open and his body left callously in an alley. The fool thought it was Isaac’s doing.”

“Not liking where this is going,” Xander whispered to Spike. Spike nodded back.

“K’bat immediately ordered a mass killing of Isaac’s people. There has been nothing but slaughter since. Innocent families have been caught in the crossfire. That is why so many of them are here. They seek refuge.”

Doyle looked confused. “Wasn’t there anyone to stop them? Surely even the police would have noticed.”

Sharl chuckled, albeit bitterly. “With a city block on fire at the same time? Please. Humans before demons. It’s the way it’s always been.”

“Why is it so quiet now?” Angel asked. “There was no-one outside.”

“Good point, Peaches. Weren’t no bugger about when me and Xan passed though.”

“Is everyone hiding?” Xander asked.

“Some are,” Sharl replied. “While some have retreated, ready to gather and strike, some have simply hidden under their beds. Some managed to get here. K’bat’s people struck so fast – no-one had any idea that it was coming. We were unprepared for the fall-out.”

“Is it safe here? For all those people, I mean.” The club was full of children. If K’bat or Isaac struck now, there would be nowhere for them to hide – nowhere for them to go. It struck Xander that it was risky to keep everybody here.

“There is nowhere safe.”

“Sure there is,” Xander argued. “Well, safer. We should lead them underground.”

“Underground?”

“Yeah, like in War of the Worlds. Underground – a brave new world.” Xander cleared his throat when everybody stared at him. “Or maybe just hiding out in the sewers is better than sitting in a known club, on known gangster territory, waiting for everybody to get their heads blown off.”

“My boy’s got a point.”

Xander grinned. “I do sometimes.”

“And in the meantime?” Gagan handed Xander a glass of water and two pills. “How long are our people supposed to hide in the muck?”

“Until we kill Isaac and K’bat.” Angel stood decisively. “Do you have any weapons here? Swords?” he asked Sharl.

“Yes, in the basement. You’re honestly thinking about taking them on? Alone?”

“They’re only two demons.”

“Yup, and like a house of cards, if you take one out the whole thing collapses. Uh – unless you take the top card…whoops, bad analogy. Forget me. I’ll be over here.” Xander ducked his head and tried to hide his sudden embarrassment. He really was useless at times, he thought.

Angel ignored Xander’s speech and instead stared intently at Sharl. “They’re flesh and bone. They’ll hack to pieces like any other demon.”

Xander raised his hand. “Except the Judge. We kinda had to blow him up. And then there was Acathla…okay, shutting up now.”

“Can you tell us where we can find them? Right now?” Angel asked.

“Of course.”

“Xander? Will you lead the people down the sewers? Hide them until this is over?”

“Me? Really? Okay, sure, I can do that. No problemo.”

“Spike?” Angel studied his Childe closely. He was by no means operating on full thrusters – and when did he start thinking in Xander and Doyle terms? – but he was fit enough to fight, and fight well.

“I’m in,” Spike said before Angel could say anything else.

“What about me?” Doyle asked.

Angel was tempted to ask him to accompany Xander into the sewers, but he knew it would be lame. Doyle would see right through it. Xander was perfectly capable of navigating the tunnels below and, honestly, he was the best man for the job. Angel wasn’t sure where Xander had gotten such an in-depth knowledge of LA’s sewer system, but he was certainly grateful for it now.

It was just so tempting to try to hide Doyle away from what was to come – protect him from harm and keep him safe with Xander. But one look at Doyle’s face told him that his lover was currently reading his mind and wasn’t going to be pleased at that outcome.

“Well?” Doyle asked again.

“Make sure your sword isn’t too heavy. Light, but sharp; that’s all you need.”

Doyle smiled back his thanks.

TBC…