A heartfelt recommendation

[winter]

Some of you may have noticed that there are 260 comments on my last post. 240 of these are me and fyrie talking about a single story. She fed it to me by spoonfuls, killing me softly just as I was trying to work, or sleep, or just get the vampires out of my head by any means possible.

What Remains - Jossverse and Tanz der Vampire. After LA goes boom, Spike comes back to the last two vampires he knows who might take him in.

If I had to put a label on this, it'd probably be Hurt/Comfort. After the Angel finale, Spike is broken to pieces, and it's up to von Krolock, with Herbert's help, to put him back together. But gods, this is so sweet and heart-breaking, and there's one scene (which I won't spoil) that killed me dead.

Even if all you know about Tanz is that I blather about it a lot, go read it - all you need to know is that von Krolock is Herbert's dad, and that he's a sorcerer and occasional seer. All else speaks for itself.

(She's not finished with the first chronological fic in this series, but it will explain a lot if you read the two she posted previously - Until the Moon is Abed, slash and het Herbert/Spike, von Krolock/Dru, and then Unwritten Words, where pre-Buffy Season 2 Spike asks for advice on helping Dru.)

Comments

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Wrapping his thin arms across his torso, fingers sinking into the flesh above his hips, William’s eyes darted away, then back several times. He looked as if he wished to speak, but the words stilled in his throat.

Tapping the tip of his forefinger upon the arm of his chair, von Krolock arched a brow coolly.

Shuffling his feet, apparently choosing to ignore his current nudity, William took a faltering step closer, then sank down onto his knees in front of the Graf, bowing his head passively.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he mumbled towards von Krolock’s boots. “Should have known better by now.” His eyes flicked up, but von Krolock’s features remained impassive. “Shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Von Krolock continued to gaze at him for a moment, then rose. He was unsurprised to see the youngster flinch slightly, swaying back to sit on his heels. With the point of one nail, he lifted William’s chin, forcing the boy to look up at him. Raising his brows, he tilted his head in unspoken inquiry.

Immediately, William straightened his back, returning to his original posture.

With a subtle nod, von Krolock withdrew his hand.

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Circling the kneeling vampire, von Krolock’s expression did not change. His hands folded behind his back, he passed before William’s face several times, and could see the boy had stopped watching or waiting for any mercy, meekly gazing at the floor.

With a measured tread, von Krolock came to a halt behind the youngster. Subtly, barely visible to the naked eye, William’s shoulders tensed, but he did not move, nor look around, even when von Krolock laid a hand upon his head. He did nothing more than briefly tremble.

Unseen, von Krolock allowed himself a small, affectionate smile.

Stooping, he placed a kiss atop William’s tousled hair, his hand slipping to rest on the boy’s shoulder. Underneath his palm, he felt William’s chest rise, heard the whisper of a longing sigh.

Oh, he needed affection, this one.

Withdrawal of what had been promised would break the boy if he held it away from him for much longer.

Sinking to his knees behind the youngster, his own knees straddling the boy’s calves, he drew his hand down. Nothing more than two fingertips. Shoulder to hip. And as he did so, he leaned closer, until his chest pressed to William’s back, his lips close to William’s ear, until he could feel the boy quiver against him.

Slipping his hand over William’s hip, he caressed the flat, trembling belly, inhaled the delightful ambrosia of the youngster’s fear, longing, desire, affection and hopeful confusion, allowed his lips to ghost along the tip of William’s earlobe.

“You are forgiven,” he murmured.