Kin of the Soul
Kin of the Soul
Slash: Angel/Xander, Angel/Spike
Rated: ADULT
banner by objectivelypink
Angel's off hunting, but y'all don't think Xander's actually going to stay at the house, do you??
( Part One ) ( Part Two ) ( Part Three ) ( Part Four ) ( Part Five ) ( Part Six ) ( Part Seven ) ( Part Eight ) ( Part Nine ) ( Part Ten ) ( Part Eleven ) ( Part Twelve ) ( Part Thirteen ) ( Part Fourteen ) (Part Fifteen ) ( Part Sixteen ) ( Part Seventeen ) ( Part Eighteen ) ( Part Nineteen ) ( Part Twenty) ( Part Twenty-One ) ( Part Twenty-Two ) ( Part Twenty-Three ) ( Part Twenty-Four ) ( Part Twenty-Five ) ( Part Twenty-six ) ( Part Twenty-Seven ) ( Part Twenty-eight ) ( Part Twenty-nine )( Part thirty ) ( Part Thirty-one ) ( Part Thirty-Two ) ( Part Thirty-Three ) ( Part Thirty four ) ( Part Thirty-five ) ( Part Thirty-Six ) ( Part Thirty-Seven ) ( Part Thirty-Eight ) ( Part Thirty-nine ) ( Part Forty ) ( Part Forty-one ) ( Part Forty-two ) ( Part Forty-three ) ( Part Forty-four ) ( Part Forty-five ) ( Part Forty-six ) ( Part Forty-Seven ) ( Part Forty-Eight ) ( Part 49 ) ( Part 50 ) ( Part 51 ) ( Part 52 ) ( Part 53 ) ( Part 54 ) ( Part 55 ) ( Part 56 ) ( Part 57 ) ( Part 58 ) ( Part 59 )
Xander shifted his weight from foot to foot. He didn’t feel bad about leaving the mansion… not even a little. However, he’d be a lot more comfortable if he could get back inside a house. Maybe the doorbell wasn’t working. Xander knocked on the door and waited impatiently. If Joyce didn’t answer soon, he was definitely going to have to rethink the whole wandering around Sunnydale at night plan.
Just when he was starting to think he would have to head back to the mansion, the lock clicked. Xander smiled, but as the door opened, that smile faded. Joyce looked gaunt and washed out, and she was answering the door in a robe at 8 pm.
“Mrs. Summers?” He could almost believe this wasn’t Joyce, but a pale imitator.
“Xander!” She smiled widely, but then she hesitated, her hand only half raised to meet him. “Oh my, how nice to see you. Why are you in town?” She stepped back, gesturing toward the house without actually issuing an invitation. Willow had told him that Buffy had finally come out to her mother on the whole vampire thing, so it was nice to see that she was being careful. It was less nice that she thought he might be a vampire. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“You look really tired. Maybe I should come back later,” he said, backing off a step.
“I’m fine. I’ve recently been in the hospital.”
“You what?” Xander’s voice cracked. He knew he didn’t have a great line to the Sunnydale gossip, but he would think that bit of information should have come up at some point.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Xander, you’re as bad as Buffy, I swear. But I want to hear everything that’s been going on in your life.”
“And you don’t want to invite me in first?” Xander guessed.
She gave him one of her motherly smiles. “Even if you are a vampire, I think I want to catch up with you, but I would rather know sooner rather than later. Besides, if you are a vampire, we definitely need a chaperone.” She stepped backwards toward her stairs, leaving the path to the living room open.
“If I were a vampire, you probably shouldn’t want to catch up with me. Catching up could involve arterial bleeding, Xander pointed out as he stepped into the house without an invitation.
“That seems to be the opinion in certain corners. Other corners seem to believe that vampires are more like hunting wild animals. Most will eat you, but there are a significant number that might choose to just have a cup of tea.” Joyce reached out and gave him a hug, but Xander could feel the weakness in her arms. It was a little freaky, because Xander always thought of Joyce as indestructible.
“Giles would be corner number one,” Xander guessed as he hugged her back carefully.
“Oh yes.” Joyce laughed and gestured him toward the living room. “You see, I had invited a man over for tea, a friend of Mr. Liam Angel. He was in the gallery and it turns out he has a very sharp eye for the abstract painters, and we had struck up a conversation.”
Xander dropped down onto the couch. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Spike, because if you’re suggesting that Spike is an art and tea sort, my brain is going to need all kinds of rearranging. Spike is a cheap vodka and rock concert sort.”
Joyce gave him a sympathetic sort of smile and sat on the other end of the couch. “I imagine when you live that long, you have time to be all sorts. But I’m afraid that Giles was quite furious when he found out Spike was coming here. Riley seemed to think that Spike’s interest came from either curiosity or a need to aggravate the life out of Buffy, and apparently our teas did that quite well when she found out.”
“Okay, that can’t have been pretty,” Xander guessed. He would love to hear that story, but Joyce was too classy to describe one of Buffy’s hissy fits. Instead she went back to talking about Spike.
“The fact is that Spike and I simply enjoyed our conversations. I am quite sure he would never have such poor manners as to eat me after we had debated the relative merits and popularity of Pollock versus Joan Mitchell.”
“Okay, that’s true. Spike is weirdly picky about who he eats.” Xander scratched the bit of skin above his ear and tried to figure out how this new piece of information fit into what he knew about Spike. Although, if Spike could discuss art well enough to impress Joyce, that actually made his relationship with Cordelia a little less totally incomprehensible. Other than incredible sex, Xander hadn’t ever been able to figure out how Spike kept her interest. When Xander had been dating her, he spent a lot of time nodding and agreeing when she talked about things like art and opera that didn’t make any sense at all. Maybe Spike was better with those sorts of conversations than Xander had been.
“So, how have you been doing in LA? I always ask Buffy about you, but lately, she’s been trying to hide something, and quite frankly, my daughter did not inherit my ability to lie.”
Xander pointed out, “She hides things good, though.”
“This I know.” Joyce shook her head and got that mother-weary look on her face. “She is an expert at hiding. But if you ask her a direct question, she can’t lie to save her life. So I know something has been going on with you.” Reaching over, Joyce put her hand on Xander’s knee. “Is it your parents?”
“Mom’s fine,” Xander quickly reassured Joyce. “She has an apartment over on Eaton.”
“And your father?” Joyce’s voice turned brittle.
Xander shrugged. “I have no idea. Once he reached the bottom of the bottle, he kinda liked it there, and I didn’t want to get between him and his one true love.”
“That man should be flogged. You’re turning out to be a wonderful young man, Xander, and he doesn’t deserve such a good son. Don’t worry about him.” Joyce gave him a few more pats on the knee before she leaned back.
“I’m not,” Xander admitted. “I mean, after three therapists telling me that my dad’s issues are his and not mine, I think I finally understand that he just needs to live his own life.”
“Well that sounds very mature. So, you’re not having a hard time with your family?”
“Not so much.”
“Then… Xander, Buffy has been extremely worried about you.”
“Yeah, well that might be because Angel lost his soul for a little bit, and Angel without a soul is not like Spike without a soul.” Xander thought about that for a second. Actually, when Spike first showed up in Sunnydale, all threats and worried about Drusilla and grabbing Xander on the street and nearly giving him a heart attack, Spike without the soul really had been a lot like Angelus. Spike had mellowed. Angelus, not so much.
“Xander?” Joyce prompted him.
He shrugged. “Angel without a soul is more of the hunting tiger than the laid back lazy lion Spike can be. I mean, if you keep Spike entertained, I’m not sure he wants to bother killing people. Not unless he’s hungry.” Or trying to impress someone, but Xander left that one off. Discussions of Spike’s need to impress others led to orphanages and nuns and railroad spikes, but Joyce really didn’t need to hear any of that.
“Angel was more dangerous then? Did he hurt someone?” Joyce leaned forward, her expression caught somewhere between worried and furious.
“Lots of someones, but mostly the someones involved were demons who didn’t give him the respect he thought he deserved. That and the demons that had the money he wanted or the demons that owned books he coveted or the demons that got in his path. I mean, he ate people too, but I’m not sure he actually went out of his way to hunt anyone. He just ate whoever was there. But the demon community… oh, they will not be forgetting this visit from the soulless one for a very, very long time.” Xander made a face. He should feel good about the number of demons and vamps and other random baddies who’d died in the last few weeks, but he really wasn’t.
“So he was more of a tiger compared to Spike’s lion,” Joyce summarized for him. “And where were you through all this?”
Xander sighed. Seriously, he’d just wanted to catch up with Joyce, to sit and drink hot cocoa and remember when she’d been more of a mother to him than his own. He wanted to remember who he’d been when he’d been sixteen and hanging out in this same living room, back before things got so complicated. Now he was just dragging the complicated into her living room. He officially sucked.
“Mostly, running. There at the end, though, I guess I realized that I’d rather be with Angelus than running from him.”
Joyce leaned back and gave Xander a long, worried look. “Even though he’s a tiger?”
And that was pretty much the center of the problem. Xander knew how dark Angelus’ moods were. He knew how much Angelus loved him the way you might love a favorite stuffed toy. And now Angelus got equal control over the body with Angel. Last night, during the sex, Xander could feel the difference… even before he got Angel to explain things, he knew that Angelus was much more present than before the whole soul-ripping thing Jenny had done.
“That’s big with the psychologically unhealthy, huh?”
“I don’t know. Did he hurt you?”
“Physically… nope,” Xander answered easily.
“Emotionally?”
Xander wondered why he’d come here. Joyce was very mothering, and these were definitely mother type questions, but they weren’t questions Xander wanted to answer. He wasn’t sure they were things he could answer.
“Xander?” Joyce’s voice was soft.
“I’m dealing with it.”
“With what?”
Xander picked at the hem of his shirt. “Have you ever loved someone, but you were pretty sure their love for you didn’t include a whole lot of respect?”
“Ah.” Joyce moved closer. “That would be my ex-husband. If I couldn’t make money, then my work wasn’t important. I shouldn’t want my own life; I should stay home and make it easier for him to go out and make more and more money by fixing fancy dinners for his business clients. And if I couldn’t even manage to do that, he wasn’t sure exactly what use I was. He might have loved me.” She paused. “I know he loved me. He just didn’t have two cents’ worth of respect for me.”
“It sounds like you married Angelus,” Xander said. It really did except instead of money, for Angelus it was about killing.
For heavy seconds, silence fell on the room. “I divorced Hank,” Joyce said softly.
“Not really an option for me,” Xander said.
“Is he forcing you to stay?” Joyce’s voice grew suddenly sharp, and Xander could tell she was ready to pick up a stake and go confront Angel herself, if she had to. And the truth was that if he tried to leave, Angel probably would come after him. Actually, after Anyaka’s cryptic comment about Angel not being able to leave and the mess when Angel came up to Sunnydale without him, Xander figured he was magically screwed if he wanted a divorce. Royally, magically screwed. But that wasn’t really an issue because he didn’t want a divorce.
“No. I mean, if this were about trying to get away, that’d be easy. But I love him, which complicates things.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s healthy to stay with him.”
“And if it were just Angelus, I would be right there with a ‘woo hoo’ for that. But the soul is back.”
“So, he’s Angel again?” Now Joyce looked confused. That was fair since Xander’s feelings were pretty damn mixed up.
“He’s sort of a mixed up version of both. The first curse gave the soul all the power, but this new curse… it’s a little more about power-sharing.” Xander shrugged. He didn’t have answers… just lots and lots of questions.
“And who’s in charge?”
“They have to agree or the body gets sort of stuck.”
“That sounds… well, painful,” Joyce said, her mouth twisting into a grimace.
“So far, pretty much,” Xander agreed. “I mean, they’re both on board with killing the hell-god roaming Sunnydale-”
“The what?!” Joyce’s back went stiff.
“The hell-god,” Xander said slowly, suddenly not sure that he should have said anything. Crap. Obviously Joyce was not totally in the know. “Not that it’s a big deal. She’s a really small hell-god, from what I hear.” Xander held up two fingers to show how small, but Joyce’s eyes just narrowed more. “Not that I’ve seen her. Because I haven’t. Non-fighters are definitely sidelined for-” Xander stopped and bit his tongue. He was officially an idiot. If Joyce was just out of the hospital, Buffy might have good reason for keeping her loop-minimal.
“A hell-god. Buffy is fighting a hell god?”
“A small one,” Xander said with a cringe. “And hey, she asked for help, so she’s got the army and Spike and Angel. And personally, I would bet on Spike and Angel winning because those two are kinda scary when they’re on the same side, and can I just say how very happy I am that it’s our side?”
“She’s fighting a hell-god.” Joyce seemed to be gritting her teeth, and her pale skin was pinking up nicely. Oh yeah, Xander had definitely poked the hornet’s nest this time. He’d be avoiding Buffy for the next decade or two.
“Can I be honest here?”
Joyce’s anger seemed to vanish like a popped balloon. “Of course you can,” Joyce assured him. “I have always respected your honesty. Even when you were lying about Angel being a vampire, and your boyfriend, you always told the truth about him being important to you. You’re an honest person.”
Xander frowned as he thought back. The only time Joyce had met Angel was the party that turned out to be lime-Jello hell. “Actually, back then we weren’t boyfriends. He was trying to figure out if he was my friend or my father or something weirdly stalkerish but in a caring way, and I was chasing girls.”
“Oh.” Joyce frowned. “Really?”
“Yep. We had this whole drama in LA when he figured out I liked guys. He thought that liking guys might be some sort of soul-killing sin and he tried really hard to get me to give up the being gay.”
For a second, Joyce blinked, her mouth half-open. “But, if you two are together, doesn’t that mean he’s-”
“Totally and completely gay,” Xander agreed. “Only he’s dated girls too, so maybe mostly gay. However, he was doing this weird thing where it was okay for him to go to hell, but I was supposed to be perfect or something.”
“Oh.” Now Joyce was back to looking confused, but that was better than having her furious. “Okay, so what did you want to be honest about?”
“You’re looking a little….” Xander let his voice trail off. He wasn’t sure how to say it politely.
“Run down?” Joyce guessed.
“Like a truck hit you, backed up, and then hit you three more times,” Xander agreed. “I’m guessing Buffy didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you worrying, only now I’ve gone and told you, so please don’t worry or Buffy is going to kill me.”
Joyce looked at him a little the way Spike looked at him after Xander had said something particularly stupid. It was a sort of exasperation mixed with fondness. “I always worry, Xander. My daughter is the chosen one who is supposed to stand up against the forces of evil. I think I inherited a right to worry when she became the slayer.”
“Yeah, and it probably doesn’t help that Dawn is hitting those fun, fun teenage years, huh?”
Joyce got an odd expression on her face, and Xander frowned. “Joyce?”
“It’s nothing,” she said with a wave of her hand before she pressed the fingers to her forehead. “Just a headache. The doctors said I’m going to have them for a while.”
“Maybe you should see another doctor, someone who could do something to make you feel better.”
“I’ve been to three doctors, including one at Riley’s base. They all agree that the brain is traumatized by the tumor and I need time to heal.”
Xander bit his lip. Doctors knew way more than he did, but he didn’t like the color of Joyce’s skin. He really didn’t like that she didn’t seem to have enough energy to keep being mad at Buffy because from what Xander remembered, Joyce Summers had all sorts of energy for that.
“Xander, are you okay?” Joyce asked, completely startling Xander. He was supposed to be worrying about her, not the other way around.
“Yeah. I mean, the stuff with the demon getting equal control is a little freaky because I have Angelus-issues, but the fact is that I love both Angel and Angelus, and we’ll work this out. Angelus doesn’t get to emotionally rip me to little pieces any more. Not that he ever meant to. That’s the thing about Angelus, he actually wants family and respect, which are two good things, but his idea of how to get them is a little on the wacky side.”
“Xander, I meant physically. Are you okay?” Joyce reached over and grabbed Xander’s arm, and Xander realized he’d been jerking it back and forth like he was trying to carve a really tough Thanksgiving turkey. Xander stared down at his arm in confusion.
“Um, maybe,” he said. “I… that’s not normal.”
“No, it’s not,” Joyce agreed. She took her hand away, and Xander did one more jerk before he consciously forced his limb to stay still. “Maybe I should call a doctor.” She didn’t sound too sure about that.
Standing up, Xander moved to the middle of the room. “Yeah, I’ve been having some weirdness go on, and I’m not sure it’s the kind of weirdness a doctor deals with.”
“Weirdness?” Joyce stood up and moved to his side, but Xander flinched away. “Xander?”
Xander shook his head. Now that he was paying attention to his own body instead of Joyce, he could feel the tension building steadily. Something was wrong.
“Xander, tell me who I should call,” Joyce urged him. Xander headed for the bottom of the stairs and gripped the railing as a wave of fury rolled through him. “Xander?”
Gritting his teeth, Xander fought down an urge to scream at Joyce, to hit her. Hitting Joyce was on the ‘no’ list. Forever on the ‘no’ list. And yet, he could feel the sweat gather along his spine as his body fought him to do just that.
“I’m calling Buffy,” Joyce said, and Xander didn’t argue. She turned toward the phone, and Xander turned around and eyed the door. Something was out there. Something big.
“Stay in the house,” Xander growled. Just as Joyce started to turn, Xander raced for the door, threw it open and ran out into the darkness.
“Xander!” Joyce screamed from behind him, but Xander ran. North. Always north. Something was north of him, and he wanted to rip and shred and tear it limb from limb.