Teascapes Parts 26-30
Part 26
“Stupid bloody buggering idiot. What were you thinking?” Spike picked Xander up gently and sniffed the air, trying to find somewhere fresh. If he could find a crack or a window or anything in this place, then he could get Xander out and into a hospital.
They’d only just learned how to be friends. The comfort of sitting together on the couch, discussing such intellectual topics as whose hooters looked real, Christina’s or Brit’s, the merits of Light Pepsi as opposed to Diet Coke, and of course the never-ending question of Trek or Wars. Spike had really let himself go for the first time he could remember. He wasn’t playing a part and he wasn’t pretending to be someone else.
Spike and William were both just figments of his imagination. He’d created William the starry-eyed lover. He’d wanted so desperately to fall in love, so he had convinced himself to do it. William didn’t die when Dru turned him. William died when Cecily rejected him one too many times and he became too much of an effort to uphold. Spike had been born, and along with him an obsession for Dru and Angel, the darkness and the evil. Because he had tried out William the Poet, and Spike the Soulless seemed like a change. He’d always been good at convincing himself.
He’d lived as Spike for so long that he’d almost forgotten how to be himself. Truth be told, Spike and William both lived somewhere within him. Xander had just been the first to bring out both of them. The first to break through all of his walls and barriers and masks and smirks and snarls and go all the way down. He had let his hair curl loose around his ears, and he’d wiped away the liner and the polish, he’d taken off the duster and he’d just been himself. He didn’t get to be himself very often. So it just wasn’t fair that now that Xander had stripped him raw and left him naked, that his heart was slowing down and damn it but Spike hated feeling helpless more than anything.
“Bloody buggerin’ Hell Xan, but why did you have to go and do that? I would have been fine, just a few bruises. And now you’ve gone and gotten yourself injured, and Buffy is going to make this all my fault.” He thought he smelled something less musky and started a slow jog forward, trying his best not to jar the fragile human in his arms.
“I hate this Xan. I hate it all. I hate you and I hate the chip and how am I supposed to protect you if you go and throw yourself head first into these kinds of things? How am I supposed to protect you if I have a bloody chip in my head?”
Xander felt like he was under water. Everything was fuzzy and his whole world was swimming around. But he could just make out someone… Spike, it was Spike… mumbling. And hey, Spike was mumbling to him. His eyes were so heavy and the whole-body ache stopped him from moving, so Xander just lay back and listened to Spike natter on I just thought natter on. I’m becoming weird and British. Just like Spike. Huh.
Spike wanted to protect him. Hey! Spike wanted to protect him! He didn’t know whether to feel flattered and girly and giddy, or insulted. He didn’t need protecting. Except when he did. Like now. Protecting right about now would be great. Now that he thought about it, Spike was protecting him. But he didn’t make it seem that way. Spike’s persona was so big sometimes, but Xander knew that underneath it all, he was just as lost as any one of them. Just as worried and self-conscious and sometimes just a little scared. So Xander didn’t mind being protected by Spike, because he didn’t do it just to get Xander out of the way, he didn’t do it just to keep him from hurting himself. He taught Xander how to take care of himself, then stepped in when he needed a nudge in the right direction. Buffy was all for rushing in, saving him and making him feel worthless. It wasn't her fault, Xander knew that. But it hurt. Spike… well Spike would sweep in, save his ass, make it into a joke then drink him under the table while ogling breasts.
So there it was. Spike was his best friend. His best friend whose pants he wanted to get into. Not that anyone else would be able to fit into Spike’s pants. Because can we spell tight boys and girls? Yes we can.
Xander was a still distracted when Vasili landed on his shoulder. He was thinking about Spike, and he was thinking about how much his chest hurt, and how wet his stomach felt. Maybe he’d gotten some goo on him. There goes his sexy shirt. Which he had worn to impress Spike. Must be unlucky.
“Xander, all you have to do is wish yourself out of here and you and Spike can go home. You’ve got two wishes left.” Vasili was a little worried. Casualties were not supposed to happen. If they lost another one… well Valery would get a touch angry.
Xander wanted to protest, tell him that they could make their own way home. But now that he thought about it… probably not the best thing for the whole bleeding and possibly dying.
“Go ahead Vasili, take me and Spike home,” Xander tried to say. “Guh had Vasofjlswzs.”
The effort of mumbling took a lot out of Xander. He decided maybe he would sleep a little. Just to gather his strength.
Spike’s stomach jumped into his mouth and back down again. He took the getting-back-home thing in his stride. It was Xander’s breath stuttering and heart slowing down that made Spike slam out the door and break into a run towards the hospital.
Part 27
Spike couldn’t look at Xander, he was a pale green and so fragile looking against the starchy white of the hospital sheets. How could he have let this happen? How dare Xander do this? Spike’s head dropped back down into his hands and he shook his entire body in an attempt to make it all just go away.
The stillness of the room and Xander’s unnatural silence were so painfully loud that Spike needed to occupy it with something.
“I’ve been watching you Xander. I don’t know when it happened, but it seems like forever and only yesterday that it started happening. Every time I looked at you, you took my breath away. I don’t even have breath! It’s ludicrous.” Spike grasped Xander’s hand in his and closed his eyes to block the image of drips and lines and tubes connecting Xander to a respirator. His breathing was unnaturally even, and Spike hated it with a passion, wished he wasn’t able to discern natural breathing from unnatural. But he knew. Xander wasn’t breathing on his own because one lung was pierced and deflated with his own rib and the other was flooded with fluid. Xander’s heartbeat was weak because he’d lost so much blood and wouldn’t get another transfusion for a while because his body was rejecting what it had already been pumped full of. He just hoped that Willow would have some way of magicking whatever the hell was wrong with Xander.
“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you Xander. You drive me insane. You sit next to me all innocent and unsuspecting, brushing against my hand in the popcorn bowl, sipping from my bottle of beer even though your own is a metre to your left. Covering my lip prints directly with yours. You think I don’t notice? Because I do. I notice everything you do. Especially when I try so hard to hide the very same thing as soon as you hand the bottle back.”
Spike thought that maybe he’d seen Xander’s mouth twitch at that. He knew it was impossible, but he could pretend, just for a little while, that Xander was finally hearing him pour his heart out.
“I’ve been thinking, Xan, and I realised what the fuck’s wrong with us. We’re just the same, you know? We’ve always sort of fallen into things. We take a situation and run with it. We’re always getting chosen, getting told what to do, and when we’re not, we know what’s expected of us. You joined the white hat brigade because a little blonde ball of fluff came along and made the good fight look glamorous and enticing. Your cheerleader practically mounted you, and so did the evil slayer. You kill the vampires and help the damsels in distress, but you never think about what you want because there’s never any time. I played the lovelorn fool, fell into the role of the Big Bad, no problems. I knew what I was supposed to do, did it well. Even the chip in my head tells me what to do.” Spike gave Xander’s hand a squeeze and ordered his thoughts, trying to get past the lump in his throat and just tell Xander what he was thinking.
“But now it’s the two of us. And fools that we are, neither of us knows how to act. You’re not being jumped and I’m not being told and we’re lost, stuck in the middle, waiting for the other to make the first move and afraid of what’s going to happen. God, we’re cowards Xan. Only I’ve never had a friend before.” A choking sob broke through the lump and a tear ran down Spike’s cheek. “Xan, please just wake up!” His distressed wail petered out into gentle sobs that wracked his body. He was so tired. Tired of lying to himself, tired of lying to Xander, tired of pretending and playing a part and just tired of unlife. He wanted Xander to wake up. He wanted Xander to open his eyes and look at him and tell him… tell him anything, really. Because Xander’s breathing was still unnaturally slow and methodic. And his heart was still too sluggish. And the most frightening of all was that his eyes were still behind his lids.
Spike’s heart-wrenching howl startled a nurse walking by. Her head popped around the door and her heart melted at the sight of a fierce-looking punk sobbing into the sheets, holding on to his boyfriend’s hand. His head was resting carefully just underneath the injured ribs, his other hand was running methodically through damp curls, and he wasn’t looking up at what was his name, ah yes Alexander, Alexander’s face. He must have been afraid of the ashen blankness there. She had worked in this hospital over a decade, and Sunnydale General had its fair share of serious injuries, but she would never get used to seeing that absolute blank greyness that came with the combination of severe blood loss and acute hypothermia. Poor boys, they must really love each other.
Nurse Laney sighed and pressed a hand to her heart, because the pain in Spike’s Spike, what kind of a name is Spike? face was so clear that she had to look away. In her line of work, mourning relatives and friends were an everyday occurrence. But something about the whispered reassurances and choked-back tears touched her. This wasn’t just an everyday couple. There was something special about them. She sent a silent prayer up for the grey-faced boy in the bed, because she had a feeling that if he went, his friend wouldn’t take long to follow. She could reach out and touch the grief in the room, it was so tangible. And that kind of fierce, beautiful, passionate love was something to be cherished.
“Have a cup of coffee honey. You look tired.” Laney took a step into the room and smiled gently at the young man that seemed to clutch the hand in his even tighter, as if afraid that she was going to make him leave. “Go on. It won’t help him if you’re exhausted. You should get something to eat, too.”
Spike looked up about to growl at the woman when he realised that she was genuinely trying to help. It was nice to have someone else to talk to, anyway. “Thanks,” he whispered, “Not hungry though.”
“How about one of the god-awful hospital meals? Not even close to being gourmet, but they’re nutritious. I don’t think your boyfriend would want you starving yourself.” She looked imploringly at Spike and smiled at him again, “You won’t have to leave him. I’ll bring it to you.”
Spike felt such a strong affection for the woman that he insanely regretted all the people he’d ever killed. She had to have seen their corpses, dealt with other grieving relative. He was going to be a vegetarian from now on, even if the chip came out. No one deserved to go through this, no one. Tears flooded Spike’s eyes again and he smiled crookedly at the nurse. “Thank you,” he repeated again, “You’re a good woman.”
Laney returned Spike’s watery smile. “So what do you say, how about steak, potato and gravy?”
“I’d love some, but I… steak extra rare?” He tried not to look too suspicious, just in case.
Ah, so that explained the unnaturally pale complexion. Although she knew she should run away as fast as she could, or at least alert someone to the presence of his kind in the hospital, she had a feeling about this man. He wasn’t here to hurt anyone. In fact, she had a feeling he hadn’t hurt anyone in a long time. “The stock cupboard is across the hall, it might have some… emergency rations in the fridge,” she smiled at Spike’s stunned look and walked across to the little window, drawing the curtains tightly. “I’ll add your name to the register, so you can stay through to the morning. There’s a drain that leads to the sewers on the second floor, just in case.”
Spike’s jaw dropped and he didn’t know what to say. The nurse just smiled at him again and walked across the room, her hand hovering above his shoulder before letting it drop to her side again. “Do you love him?” she asked it suddenly, and caught Spike off-guard.
“Yes.” Spike answered her immediately, knowing better than to lie. “So much.” His eyes filled with tears again.
“How?” Laney had never imagined that a vampire could feel this way about a human. She was not a stupid woman, and she’d worked here for too long to delude herself about what was and what was not real. She had thought she knew it all, until this.
Spike looked up and shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I hated him. But we had to live together and somehow…”
“It always hits you hardest when you don’t see it coming.” Her eyes were full of wisdom and knowledge, Spike could tell. “And does he love you?”
“I don’t know. But maybe some day he will.” Spike squeezed Xander’s hand and looked back up again. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he leaves me.”
Laney sat down near Spike, taking one of the chairs provided for visitors. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I’m on my break.” She smiled kindly and squeezed the hand Spike was holding Xander’s with. “Tell me how a boy stole a vampire’s heart.”
Spike settled back and closed his eyes, wondering who this woman was and why she had him feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. She knew about his kind, knew what he was capable of. But she wasn’t judging him. So he began the story, glad to finally be able to share the whole thing with someone. Funny that the first being he’d ever been able to confide in, aside from Xan, was a complete stranger who had seen his death, violence and destruction first hand. Someone who had to console parents and brothers and sisters and lovers every night because someone like him had come along and snuffed out their lives without a second thought.
“I’m a monster,” He whispered. “I don’t deserve him. He’s so pure.”
“Ah, but sometimes believing you don’t deserve to be happy is the very act that frees you for deserving it.”
Spike shook and let himself think for a moment that Xander’s pure, unselfish love could possibly be for him, could possibly be deserved. It was beautiful and it burned.
“I never thought that this is where we would end up. At first I thought he was going to drive me up the wall, you should see him sometimes. But then… then he came up with this crazy idea of a truce. And we became friends,” Spike paused and shook himself, as if even the idea of a friend was implausible. “It just seemed natural…”
Spike kept talking and Laney listened, letting him pour out all his hope and grief and pain. It was hard to remember that this heartbroken man was actually a century old killer. He seemed just a love-sick little boy on the verge of something new and wonderful and frightening. He seemed just like a little boy terrified of losing someone he loved, terrified of losing this beautiful thing he’d just discovered. And if a soulless vampire was capable of feeling this kind of love, then Laney had hope left for the fate of the world.
Spike told her everything. He told her about Dru and Angel and his feelings of inadequacy and fear of abandonment. He shared his dread of Buffy and Willow’s reactions if something were to happen. He told her about his history with relationships and how he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk losing Xander’s friendship. Most of all, with tears in his eyes and his voice catching in his throat, he told her about how much he hated the chip and yet cherished it at the same time. It was so hard, because even without a soul he couldn’t believe how mindlessly he’d killed and fed and destroyed. The chip had made him stop, made him remember his own humanity, how much life was worth. Finally, just after telling her everything, he’d drifted off to sleep, one hand still clutching Xander’s as if his life depended on it, the other curled in a fist, resting just on top of the boy’s heart.
Laney got up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She’d only just met Spike, and she only really knew Xander through Spike’s disjointed story, but she had a fierce urge to protect the two men. She let her eyes flash a deep purple, and reached back into the room with her senses, cleansing Spike’s dreams and soothing his fears. Laney would not interfere any more, she knew better than that. But she would do her best to rally all the help she could get for the men. She knew that powerful love like theirs was the strongest magic of all, and she could sense a pure evil on its way.
Part 28
When Buffy burst into Xander’s room she didn’t expect to find Spike curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair with his head bent at an awkward angle on Xander’s belly, clutching his hand. She came to an abrupt halt, blinking a few times to make sure what she was seeing was real because if she wasn’t wrong those were tear tracks on Spike’s cheek.
At first she wanted to wake Spike up and pound him into something bloody. But as she twirled a stake dangerously close to his heart, Buffy realised that she didn’t want Spike dead. Sure most of the time she wanted him mangled, but somehow it seemed important that she not disturb him. It was funny that he’d slept through her stomping into the room, so there must have been something at work keeping him asleep. Buffy sat in another of the chairs in the room and waited.
She must have been sitting there for an hour. This thing between Xander and Spike, whatever it was, it seemed like it was genuine. Why else would Spike babysit at Xander’s hospital bed? Why else would he be clutching his hand as if he was never going to let go? Buffy frowned and looked up at the ceiling, feeling as if she was intruding on something intimate and private when she looked at the pair.
“May I help you?” Laney had come in to check in the boys before leaving at the end of her shift when she felt a foreign presence in the room. A powerful-looking blonde girl sat gazing at the ceiling in some sort of a trance, and it was a touch disturbing.
“No. I’m just waiting for my friend to wake up. I’m Buffy Summers, I should be on the list.” Buffy looked across the room and looked away quickly. Something about this woman screamed authority and power, and it was starting to wig her out.
“Spike took something to help him sleep. He’ll come around soon.” Laney smiled kindly at the girl.
“Oh, Spike’s not my friend. Xander is. Spike’s just… Spike.” Buffy laughed nervously, trying her best to look innocent and pretend she hadn’t almost told a total stranger about vampires.
“In my experience, no one is ever just anything. And Spike is certainly a unique man.” Laney frowned at Buffy. There was something different about her, something strange. “You don’t have many people to call friend, and I would think that Spike would be one of the better candidates.”
Buffy was a little embarrassed and a lot suspicious. Who was this woman, and how dare she tell her she had no friends? “I have plenty of friends. Friends a-plenty. In fact, I have so many friends that there isn’t any room for more, thanks very much. Spike is his own friend, not anyone else’s.”
Laney looked at Buffy and frowned. This girl was obviously on the thick side, if she could not see the friendship between the men, if she could not feel the love. “When you treat a man like a monster, he becomes one.” Laney walked out of the room, needing some time to assess whether this Buffy was a threat.
By the time Buffy turned around, Spike’s eyes were fluttering open. He looked up at her owlishly, his hair sticking up on one side of his head. He looked kind of… cute. And harmless. Buffy shook herself out of it. The nurse had obviously rattled her, that was all.
“What is it slayer? No snide remarks? No cruel comments? Has the cat got your tongue?” Spike was instantly defensive, his eyes sparking a yellow that told Buffy to stay away.
Buffy wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Spike looked almost as grey as Xander, and the worry lines etched in his face were palpable even when he was trying to be defensive. He obviously… cared about Xander. And hadn't she resolved to stop being mean to him? Hadn’t he shown her that he had more soul without a soul than Angelus? It was all confusing, and it was so much easier to hate than it was to try and understand. “Shut up Spike.” Not one of her best, but it would do if she coupled it with a nasty glare.
Spike’s face crumbled and he lay his head back down on Xander’s stomach, turned his face away from her. Stupid bitch didn’t know what she was talking about. Had no idea. Was all righteous and holier-than-thou. But she was just as much a murderer as he had ever been, only she didn’t have an excuse for it. He tried to shut her out and schooled his senses to Xander’s heartbeat. Was it a little weaker than it had been before he’d fallen asleep? Could Xander be getting worse? Spike was getting panicked, and he moved his head further up, listening to Xander’s heart right over his chest.
“What is it?” Buffy could tell that something was wrong by the whimper that escaped Spike. Did he know he was making that sound? He looked so miserable and sad and on the edge… damn it but Spike was making it hard for her. Didn’t he understand that she needed to hold on to her hatred? If she let herself believe that some demons weren’t as bad as others her whole world would change, she’d have to question every vampire she’d staked.
Laney could sense Spike’s distress floating through the walls of the hospital and into her little room upstairs. The girl was disrupting everything.
“Xan’s heartbeat is slowing down. Damn it Slayer, what if he doesn’t make it? Where’s the witch? Where is Giles? Why are you here, if you’re not going to help?” Spike’s head hadn’t turned towards Buffy and his voice remained soft so as not to disturb Xander, but Buffy felt the urgency.
“Willow is on the way with Giles, they’re bringing healing potions. I thought I’d come and keep Xander company. Didn’t want him to be alone.” Buffy felt as if a wall had been built around the bed, and she couldn’t quite take that step forward that she wanted to. Xander looked so grey, so ill, she just couldn’t bear to touch him because it would make everything real.
“And what, I’m not here? I’m not keeping him company? I don’t care about him just because I have no buggerin’ soul? You think you’re the only one that worries when he’s hurt? You think you’re going to be the only one to…” Spike cut himself off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. It wasn’t going to happen, it wasn’t.
“I guess I didn’t think you’d be here.” Now that Buffy thought about it, she didn’t know exactly what she’d been thinking. Of course Spike would stay. Of course Spike was loyal. Hadn’t he taken care of Dru for millions of years? Wasn’t he the first to patch up Xander’s scrapes and bruises? Didn’t he always insist on gauze and antiseptic even when it was just a grazed knee? Obviously he cared. “Why do you care? What’s so special about Xander? You wouldn’t be here if it was me, or Wills.”
Spike looked up at Buffy in disbelief. “Would you or Red be here if it were me in the bed?” At her silence he smirked and shook his head. “I didn’t think so. But Xander would be.” His voice wavered and broke, and a big fat tear slid down his cheek. Stupid stupid stupid boy, how could he do this? How could he bring out this much humanity?
“I think you had better leave.” Laney gave Buffy a cold look and crossed her arms. “Visiting hours are from eleven. You can come back then, if you so wish.”
Spike sent his thanks across, and if he wasn’t mistaken Laney got it. Buffy looked confused, then stomped her foot petulantly.
“But what about Spike? Why does he get to stay? And my friends are coming, they have… stuff… that could help Xander.” She gave the nurse her patented innocent little girl look, but this one looked like a tough customer.
“When they arrive, I will examine whatever they have. Until then, Spike is the only one to not upset the patient. Please wait outside.”
Buffy grunted and growled but left Laney and Spike alone.
“You have not fed, and you are no use to Xander if you starve.” She looked stern and Spike lowered his eyes. “I have brought you some breakfast. I expect you to eat it all. How has he been?”
Laney handed a bottle full of something warm and red, and Spike immediately took a gulp of some sweet, rich blood.
“I think his heart is slowing down.” Spike finally shifted from his position, getting up to stretch but coming back almost immediately.
Laney considered her options. It was true, Xander’s heart was getting weaker and his breathing more laboured. There was only one way out of this. “I have not enough power in me to make him better, Spike. I will have to call my brother, and we will do it together.”
Spike looked up and gasped. Laney’s eyes had coloured completely purple, the pupils disappeared and a vacant look turned her childish features icy. After a moment she snapped out of it and looked back down at him. “What the hell are you, luv?”
“I come from the Isis bloodline. I have some healing powers, but I am afraid they are not strong. My forte is reading people’s feelings, not changing them. But my brother and I together…” She trailed off. She had not seen Nicholas for so many years. She wondered if he would even respond to her call. “I just hope he gets here soon.”
Laney smiled at Spike, then patted his shoulder. “I have work to do. You stay here, Xander is stronger with your energy in the room.”
Spike gaped after he as she left. A woman of the Isis bloodline… but they were all gone, eradicated in the fifth century! Having her helping Xander, especially if her brother would also… Spike sighed in almost-relief. Xander would get better, he just knew it.
Part 29
Xander had been struggling to force his eyes open for a while but his body refused to give up the fight and let him have some peace. He was so frustrated he wanted to scream, but that function seemed to have been turned off too. He hated feeling this helpless, hated having people worry about him, hated not being able to comfort them and tell them he was okay.
He knew that Spike had been there the entire time. His other friends had come and gone, and he was sure the going had more to do with Spike’s growling than them actually abandoning him, but Spike had stayed put with his head over Xander’s heart and his hand gripping Xander back to earth.
It’s okay Spike, I’m fine. Xander screamed silently. I love you. But nothing came out and Xander was afraid that he would be stuck like this forever, aware but unable to do anything about it.
Spike had been talking to him, and it was the only thing keeping Xander sane. All day he would tell him stories, talk about how they’d met and all the things they’d done together since deciding to bury the hatchet and act humane to each other for once. Xander wanted to tell Spike about the other times, the times that Spike didn’t mention, the first time that he’d realised that he loved him, the first time he’d seen his pupils dilate when he said something with a double meaning entendre, it’s called a double entendre, the first time they’d kissed. Because Xander remembered it all now, remembered how wonderful and beautiful and everything it was, how much he wanted to do it again.
But he couldn’t say a word, couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t tell Buffy to shut up and open her mind for once. So he lay there, listening to Spike’s soft and needless breathing. He caught himself praying more than once that Spike wouldn’t leave, because somehow he was keeping him alive.
Spike was exhausted and starving, and Laney had been right. He was no good to Xander if he was about two seconds away from collapsing. So he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and gave his hand a squeeze before getting up and stretching his legs. He felt the loss of connection as soon as his hand left Xander’s. Xander gasped desperately before the heart rate that had just started to pick up dropped, the breathing slowed completely, and he withdrew.
Spike felt it like a physical blow. His knees buckled beneath his weight and he didn’t have the strength to break his fall when he hit the ground. Xander… all my fault… I’m sorry…
***
“They are special Nikki, they will help our kind when It comes.” Laney spoke softly, knowing that it wasn’t safe to be talking at all.
“And what is so special about a vampire and a human, DeLania?” Nikolas frowned at his sister, knowing that she brought someone ‘special’ every few months, and they always ended up dead.
“The demon knows restraint and control, and most of all he knows love. You cannot say that this has happened before. A vampire without a soul loving a human and being loved in return…” Laney knew that this time was different, that these men could help.
“Alright. Fetch them to me. But this is the last time. I will not sacrifice another life, even if it is to save many.” Nikolas loved his sister, but he would not be able to take the guilt and pain of another fatality. It was true that they were all volunteers and were all well rewarded in the next life, but the grief of those who loved them would not taint another moment.
“I will bring them, but I need you to help me bring the boy out from within himself.” Laney snapped her fingers and brother and sister stood outside a hospital room.
“We will heal him, DeLania, but you know it comes at a cost.” Nikolas sighed and pulled up his sister’s shirt-sleeve. “You do not have much power left sister. You would do well to conserve it before you drain yourself. Our world cannot last without a queen.”
The simultaneous thuds of Spike’s body hitting the floor and Xander’s mind retreating behind shields were so loud that it physically hurt brother and sister.
“Not a moment too soon, Nikki.” Laney rushed into the room and pricked the pad of her middle finger on her right hand, brushing a drop of blood across Xander’s lips and then Spike’s, chanting a rhyme beneath her breath that was as old as the world. A ninth scar appeared on her arm, closely followed by a tenth and Nikolas frowned once more before hurrying forward to help.
***
Xander was floating. He didn't know where he was but it was quiet, it felt like a good place to be and he didn't want to leave. He would be perfectly content to stay forever if only there wasn't something eating away at him from the inside. What was he supposed to remember? What was it that he was missing?
The answer came to him in a wave that dunked him in cold water. Spike. Where was Spike? Xander began to panic, thrashing backwards and forwards trying to get free. He had to get to Spike, he could almost feel some connection to him he didn't even know existed getting weaker and weaker. Something was trying to trick him!
Xander felt as if he was underwater. It made sense that if he was under then he should swim upwards. But sounds were echoing and Xander wasn't sure he knew which way was up, all he could see was murky and blurred and it felt like he was about to drown because every breath he took wasn't enough.
Xander. It was Spike's voice! Spike was somewhere near and Xander had to get to him, had to warn him of the things he'd seen in his dream. Had to protect him and love him. And suddenly he realised which way was up, knew that Spike would guide him.
Don't leave me. Xander tried to scream, tried his best to make his voice heard above the water. Spike must have gotten the message because someone was gripping his hand, pulling him up. Don't let go. He kicked with all his might, gasping for air, grasping for the surface.
Don't give up Xander. Come on, come back to us. It was someone else's voice. Willow's. Willow was here too. He needed to get back up because she couldn't lose him too, Jesse had been bad enough. And Spike was still holding his hand, it would be okay as long as he didn't let go again. He was going to kick him for letting go in the first place too, as soon as he got back. Pinch him and hit him and hold him and love him because he was here, he hadn't left, he hadn't given up.
Please Xander, I don't know what I'll do without you. Buffy didn't know what she would do without him? But he didn't do anything except fetch donuts. He couldn't possibly mean that much to her, it wasn't like he was strong or Witchy. But she was crying, and Buffy never cried. He must be needed for something.
Xander, you cannot give in. You are stronger than that. Giles? What was Giles doing here? Surely he had more important things to do than pull Xander out of wherever the hell he was. But Giles was almost a teacher, so Xander felt like he had to listen.
Xander. You are needed. You must return. A stranger's voice. He didn't know who it was, but he felt the power of her words pulling him to the surface almost as much as Spike's hand was. He had to get back. He was needed. Somehow he knew that this stranger wouldn't lie to him.
Xander sat up straight and gulped in a breath of air that burned him and rejuvenated him at the same time. He opened his eyes and felt as if he'd never seen before.
"Hey guys," he said.
Willow's mouth kept opening and closing like a fish. Buffy burst into tears again and grabbed onto Willow, making her squeak as the air was crushed out of her. Giles looked dazed and didn't even wipe his glasses. Two strangers stood beaming at each other. And Spike...
"I am going to kill you Xan! God, I'm going to rip off your head and throw it as far into the river as I can. I'm going to tear off your arms and legs and eat them. I'm going to... I'm going to..." Spike grabbed Xander and crushed him close, all the while whispering in his ear about all the ways he was going to get revenge for the worry he'd caused. But there was a suspicious sheen that told Xander a lot more than Spike's words did.
Xander did a mental Snoopy dance. He'd made Spike cry! Not that it was a good thing, it wasn't, he never ever wanted to see Spike look as devastated as he had in that instant before he realised that Xander was awake. But Spike cared. He really really cared.
Part 30
Spike was beautiful. He was like the moon on the darkest night, the Sun on the coldest day. Xander couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it before. His face was all angles and sharp lines but there was softness, gentleness behind it. He thought of how Spike’s fingers had always reminded him of someone playing an instrument. If Spike touched him… but Spike would never touch him. No one that beautiful would want to touch someone like Xander. So he would watch and memorise and pretend he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be.
They were staying at Giles’ while he was getting better, and Spike had been left on Xander-sitting duty. Xander was “sleeping” while Spike sat across the hall with the door open just in case there was an emergency. With a lamp that cast shadows over his perfect features he looked like he was wearing a halo. He was reading something, so his eyes were lowered and he was biting his lower lip in concentration. His lips should be made illegal. They were the perfect colour, the perfect texture, and Xander was willing to bet that they tasted just as good as they looked.
Every once in a while Spike read something amusing and he would break into a wide, genuine smile. Xander had seen that smile directed at him a few times since they’d become friends, and he could remember every single one of them, could press his mental play button and see them all again if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t, because it hurt. He hadn’t seen Spike smile at him since that day in the hospital. He seemed to have withdrawn from him, gone back inside himself. They hardly ever talked any more. Sure, he would fetch anything Xander wanted him to. But that smile that Xander wanted to see so much never appeared, never lit his face all the way to his eyes, or made Xander forget about everything he’d ever done wrong.
Xander’s eyes dipped lower to concentrate on the strip of skin between Spike’s t-shirt and pants. His shirt had taken a ride up his stomach and not come back. Xander couldn’t believe how hot he found it, the little bit of white peaking out from between the black material. It was perfect, every hair placed as if by hands of the Gods themselves. What Xander wouldn’t give just to be able to dip his tongue inside the belly button he could see a hint of, to trace that line of hair all the way down to…
He cast his eyes away, the only way of maintaining his loose grip on sanity. He wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but some time between going into the coma and coming out again Spike had learned how to melt Xander. And it wasn’t anything he did either, it was enough for him to just be there for Xander to be hard enough to make his head spin. It was a good thing that Xander was stuck in bed, because he didn’t think he could walk without limping from his constant erection.
Spike’s feet were bare, one tucked underneath him, the other casually tapping the floor. Gods, but his feet were sexier than all the breasts Xander had ever seen. They were perfect, just like every other part of Spike. Perfect in that fallen angel kind of way. Pale and too small for a man, with a high arch and black chipped nail polish to match his hands. Powerful feet, just like the rest of him.
I’m so gay.
Xander closed his eyes and let out a long, low groan. Spike’s feet had just made his erection surge. That was it. He’d run out of safe places to look. But as much as he wanted to keep his eyes shut, wanted to keep himself from doing or saying something embarrassing, he couldn’t do it. He needed to look just one last time. Get it out of his system. Yeah right Xander.
So he dared another look, but as soon as he opened his eyes he squeezed them shut again. Oh. Dear. Gods. There’s no mercy, no mercy at all. He forced himself to look, forced himself not to leap out of the bed and onto the vampire whose arms were stretched above his head, making every single muscle stand out in his arms and chest and stomach. He was balancing on his toes, accentuating the curve of his spine. And an image of Spike stretched that way, naked and covered in a thin sheen of Xander’s sweat, flashed into Xander’s mind. The gasp would have been enough to give him away if Spike hadn’t sneezed at that exact same moment.
What’s wrong with me? Xander thought even as his hand trailed down to stroke his own belly. He couldn’t get the vampire out of his head and it was made even worse by Spike shutting him out. Tears stung Xander’s eyes as he thought of the closeness they’d begun to share before, at how easy it had been to play pool, to hang out, to make fun of crappy C-grade movies. What had happened to make Spike suddenly hate him? Was it because he was weak? Was it because he was stupid and small and incapable of anything except getting into all kinds of trouble? He’d been so happy in the hospital that day, Spike had been holding his hand and acting like he cared, like he was happy Xander had woken up. And now all he seemed to do was avoid him as if he was sunlight and holy water and a giant cross all mixed up into one pudgy, weak, all-too-human body.
Spike settled himself into the armchair again, dropped his head onto the back. Xander gasped, so turned on by the stretching of that beautiful neck, needing so badly to… to… anything but this. It hurt. It hurt so much.
Spike smelt the tangy saltiness before he heard the muffled gasp coming from Xander’s room. He surged to his feet, ready to search and destroy, ran forwards. The bed was empty. The curtains were shivering in the breeze. Dawn was in all of thirty-three minutes. Just. Fuckin’. Great. He was on his way to the telephone when the scent hit him like a wall and made his knees give in, made him collapse and grasp his head. It was sex and the worst kind of pain, fear and anger that seeped into his pores and attacked every one of his senses, but strongest of all was the scent of oh gods… longing that was palpable. Why hadn’t he sensed this before? How did he not know that Xander was suffering this much? And what was making him feel this way?
Spike was suddenly scared out of his mind. If what he absorbed after Xander was gone was any indication of the way Xander was feeling, he didn’t know where to look for him or even if he would find him again in one piece.
***
Sometimes Xander felt so stupid that he wanted to bash his head against a wall until he blacked out. This was one of those times. He’d been walking for about fifteen minutes now, everything hurt, his head hadn’t cleared at all, and he didn’t feel like he could walk any further without losing a lung. He didn’t even know where the hell he was, and he’d only just realised that he had no money, he was wearing thin sweat pants and a shirt that did nothing to keep out the sharp sting of Winter. Maybe if he sat down, just for a little while, maybe then he’d feel better? Might just lie down for a moment. Just rest my eyes.
***
Spike was frantic with worry, his heart was just about ready to go for a walk, all his senses were telling him to turn back, to get inside, to run run run. He felt the sun rising in every fibre of his being. But Xander was out here somewhere, and though his scent was fading fast, Spike could feel him nearby. He was going to find him, get him into bed, lock every door and window in the house and then rip him to shreds. If he didn’t turn to dust first.
He would have missed him if it wasn't for the glint of light reflecting off his watch. Spike had no time to check for vitals, he hoisted him up onto his back and practically flew in the direction of home.
The door slammed shut behind them just in time. Spike’s heal was charred, his hands were burning, his whole body felt ready to burst into flames. It was just as Spike settled him back onto the bed and lifted the covers over his shivering form that Xander’s eyes were slowly fluttering open, and the boy took his breath away.
Xander was beautiful. He would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been looking properly, because it was something on the inside that made Xander shine with an innate kind of earthy beauty. His face was so expressive, so open. Everything he felt could be found right there, clear and plain as day. And it was the pain that made Xander stunning.
“Xander?” he whispered, didn’t feel right raising his voice for some reason. All his anger flooded out of him and all that was left was a fear that left his knees weak. “Xander, what’s happening?”
Xander opened his eyes and shut them just as quickly. Spike had been leaning over him, close enough that Xander could feel the puffs of breath he expelled with every unneeded breath. Torture, pure agony. Spike’s face was framed by the light that filtered through the yellow lampshade. An angel on earth, flawless, dazzling, astonishing, frightening.
“I wish… I wish I didn’t know you.” Xander’s internal censor wasn’t working.
“Why would you want that, pet?”
Xander laughed bitterly, of course Spike wouldn’t understand. “Why wouldn’t I? I don’t know where I stand. I don’t know what I did. Just when… and then you’re… I’m sick of all this. I’m sick of fighting, I’m sick of trying. What’s the point? Nothing ever changes.”
Spike thought he could feel his unbeating heart crack. He’d never heard Xander sound so resigned before, never smelt the stink of rejection. “There’s always a point. You have to fight because otherwise they win.”
“What if I want them to win? What if I’m sick of trying and fighting and nothing ever working out right for me. I’ve saved people Spike, averted more than my fair share of apocalypses. Constantly risking my life, but for what, for who?”
Spike had never seen Xander so shattered, never imagined that this boy would be the one to give up. “What brought this on?” he whispered.
“You did.”
Spike blinked up at him, speechless for once. How had this been his fault? What had he done? “I didn’t!” He leapt to his own defence, as always.
“You won’t even look at me anymore.” Xander turned his head to the side, the only privacy he could afford when he couldn’t leave the room, couldn’t make Spike leave.
“I…” Spike wanted to lie, wanted to tell Xander that he was being ridiculous. Only it was true. “I’m sorry.” He said instead.
“Why?” Xander needed to know.
“Because you’re human. Only human. So fragile.” Tears flooded Spike’s eyes and he was out the door before he could see Xander break.
Only human. Xander would always be only human. He was weak and powerless and useless and all those other words that meant no one would ever want him. Spike would be better off with Buffy, at least he wouldn’t be afraid of breaking her. Only human.
He had crawled out of bed in an attempt to go after Spike before landing on his ass with his back to the wall when he realised there was nothing to be said. Spike had a point, because Xander would never be right for him. Spike was everything Xander was not, and he deserved someone to match. So Xander sat for as long as he could remember, which could have been an hour or a day, and didn’t think about anything. Images of Spike flashed past his eyelids but he ignored them. Jesse floated across sometimes, and Xander ignored him too. He wondered for a moment what it would have been like to let Jesse bite him way back then, what he would be doing. I’d be dead. Or undead. Might be better than being unalive.
Spike had gotten all the way to the front door when he realised what he was doing. He was running away from what was quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to him. Xander… Xander was so full of love, and he was willing to send a little of that love Spike’s way, to touch his life the way he thanklessly touched the lives of all his friends. And Spike knew that with Xander there was no half way, he wouldn’t give only to take away, he wouldn’t heal just to harm again. Xander was genuine, he was real and he was everything Spike didn’t deserve and yet had been desperately searching for his entire life, and then the unlife that followed. Xander might be breakable, but it was too late to try and not get too emotionally involved. He would be just as worried, just as terrified every time he was met with the sight of Xander in pain. But maybe he had a chance at happiness. So why wasn’t he taking what was being offered? Why was he running away and leaving this chance at fulfilment behind?
He took the stairs two at a time and almost crashed into the listless form of Xander, motionless and sickly pale and lying on the floor.
Spike paused because he’d done that, he’d make Xander look so hopeless and helpless and sad. Because he was selfish and didn’t want it to hurt, thought it would have been easier to just shut himself off now before it got to be too hard. Only it was already too hard, already too late, and he needed to make Xander see that. “I’m sorry.” It was barely loud enough to hear, and Xander didn’t seem to register it, but Spike couldn’t force the words out of his mouth again.
Xander’s mouth opened and closed and he shut his eyes, rubbed them, then opened them again. Spike was still there. He wasn’t dreaming. “You came back?” He’d hoped but…
Suddenly it wasn’t so hard any more. “I’m sorry.” It was louder this time, like he wanted to tell the entire world but needed Xander to know it first.
Oh. Sorry. They were always sorry, but if they were sorry why did they do it again and again? “Of course you are. Look Spike, just leave me alone. I’m human, I get it. I can’t back you up in a fight, and I’m always the one getting hurt, and all I do well is get donuts. Only sometimes I forget what kinds of donuts everyone wants, so I’m not even good at that. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to feel guilty, don’t bother yourself. I understand.”
Xander’s voice was so resigned that it broke Spike’s heart and made him angry at the same time. Did the boy think that little of him? “No you don’t get it, Xander. I’m… I’m going to live forever pet. You’re not. Anything could hurt you, and what if I can’t save you? What if I’m too slow? What if…”
Xander interrupted, livid that Spike was saying this, livid that Spike was even thinking it. “Geez Spike, well excuse me that you’re going to live forever. I’m sorry I’m not all vampire-y like you. I’m sorry that I’m just human.”
“Xander, I don’t want to live forever if it means a forever without you.” It had escaped his mouth without permission, but now that it was out Spike realised how right it was, how much he meant it. When Xander saw his last sunset, Spike would see his last sunrise. And he was okay with that. Living forever wasn’t worth it if you had no one to share it with.
“What?” Xander wasn’t sure if he’d heard right, wasn’t sure if maybe this was some kind of trick.
“There are things we have to think about, have to talk about. Never had a human lover before pet, but I know vamps that have gone insane from it. You’ll get sick and you’ll get hurt and sometimes I won’t be able to save you.” Spike paused and thought about what he wanted to say, not wanting to scare Xander off but at the same time wanting him to understand what he was getting himself into.
“Spike, I’m not asking for anything. I know it’ll be hard. And yeah, we’re going to have some major issue-like things to worry about that will involve a little more than just who gets to use the bathroom first and which side of the bed I get to sleep on. I just… I want to give it a go. I… I think I might… that is to say…” Xander trailed off and played with the hem of his t-shirt. This was almost as hard to say out loud as it was to admit to himself. And what if Spike didn’t feel the same? What if he was going to be making declarations of love and Spike laughed?
Spike took one look at the miserable boy sitting with his back against a wall and looking decidedly uncomfortable and made his decision. It didn’t matter what happened in the future, they could deal with it when they got to it. What mattered was that he was already head over heals in love with Xander bloody Harris, and for once he was allowed to take what he wanted. And gods, he wanted. So it was with a lighter heart that he took the two steps to kneel beside Xander. He tucked a finger under Xander’s chin and lifted it, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Xander, I’m going to be bloody honest for once. I love you. I might not be much. I don’t know how we’re going to make this work. But I know I want this. I want you.”
Xander sat for moment just looking at Spike, really looking, trying to memorise every single detail of this moment, every expression that graced those perfectly chiselled forever features. And then he stopped thinking and closed his eyes, grabbed Spike behind the head and slammed against his mouth, drinking in all the words that couldn’t be said. He gasped and groped for something to hold onto because he didn’t know which way was up anymore, definitely didn’t know which way was down. His world narrowed and his heart stopped and his blood rushed and it was too much but not enough. Everything, this was everything, this was love.
Spike’s stomach smashed into his mouth. The shuddering in his chest could have been his heart or could have been the surge of tears that were running down his face. This was… this was heaven and he didn’t deserve it, but he was going to take it because he was a selfish bastard that was never never never going back. It was magic and it was perfect and Xander was perfect because he was making tiny needy sounds in the back of his throat and he was murmuring all the things Spike had always wanted to hear. And it was the leaves falling in Autumn, it was the snow crunching under bare feet, it was Sunshine and rain at the same time, and it was love, god but it was love.
Neither man felt the air shudder or saw the purple tinge that coloured the room and receded, nor were they yet aware of being bound by magic as old and powerful as the earth itself. Neither heard the dull thud of a tiny, black object landing between them. Neither heard DeLania’s sigh of relief or saw a smile that made the room glow pale yellow as she disappeared.
“Stupid bloody buggering idiot. What were you thinking?” Spike picked Xander up gently and sniffed the air, trying to find somewhere fresh. If he could find a crack or a window or anything in this place, then he could get Xander out and into a hospital.
They’d only just learned how to be friends. The comfort of sitting together on the couch, discussing such intellectual topics as whose hooters looked real, Christina’s or Brit’s, the merits of Light Pepsi as opposed to Diet Coke, and of course the never-ending question of Trek or Wars. Spike had really let himself go for the first time he could remember. He wasn’t playing a part and he wasn’t pretending to be someone else.
Spike and William were both just figments of his imagination. He’d created William the starry-eyed lover. He’d wanted so desperately to fall in love, so he had convinced himself to do it. William didn’t die when Dru turned him. William died when Cecily rejected him one too many times and he became too much of an effort to uphold. Spike had been born, and along with him an obsession for Dru and Angel, the darkness and the evil. Because he had tried out William the Poet, and Spike the Soulless seemed like a change. He’d always been good at convincing himself.
He’d lived as Spike for so long that he’d almost forgotten how to be himself. Truth be told, Spike and William both lived somewhere within him. Xander had just been the first to bring out both of them. The first to break through all of his walls and barriers and masks and smirks and snarls and go all the way down. He had let his hair curl loose around his ears, and he’d wiped away the liner and the polish, he’d taken off the duster and he’d just been himself. He didn’t get to be himself very often. So it just wasn’t fair that now that Xander had stripped him raw and left him naked, that his heart was slowing down and damn it but Spike hated feeling helpless more than anything.
“Bloody buggerin’ Hell Xan, but why did you have to go and do that? I would have been fine, just a few bruises. And now you’ve gone and gotten yourself injured, and Buffy is going to make this all my fault.” He thought he smelled something less musky and started a slow jog forward, trying his best not to jar the fragile human in his arms.
“I hate this Xan. I hate it all. I hate you and I hate the chip and how am I supposed to protect you if you go and throw yourself head first into these kinds of things? How am I supposed to protect you if I have a bloody chip in my head?”
Xander felt like he was under water. Everything was fuzzy and his whole world was swimming around. But he could just make out someone… Spike, it was Spike… mumbling. And hey, Spike was mumbling to him. His eyes were so heavy and the whole-body ache stopped him from moving, so Xander just lay back and listened to Spike natter on I just thought natter on. I’m becoming weird and British. Just like Spike. Huh.
Spike wanted to protect him. Hey! Spike wanted to protect him! He didn’t know whether to feel flattered and girly and giddy, or insulted. He didn’t need protecting. Except when he did. Like now. Protecting right about now would be great. Now that he thought about it, Spike was protecting him. But he didn’t make it seem that way. Spike’s persona was so big sometimes, but Xander knew that underneath it all, he was just as lost as any one of them. Just as worried and self-conscious and sometimes just a little scared. So Xander didn’t mind being protected by Spike, because he didn’t do it just to get Xander out of the way, he didn’t do it just to keep him from hurting himself. He taught Xander how to take care of himself, then stepped in when he needed a nudge in the right direction. Buffy was all for rushing in, saving him and making him feel worthless. It wasn't her fault, Xander knew that. But it hurt. Spike… well Spike would sweep in, save his ass, make it into a joke then drink him under the table while ogling breasts.
So there it was. Spike was his best friend. His best friend whose pants he wanted to get into. Not that anyone else would be able to fit into Spike’s pants. Because can we spell tight boys and girls? Yes we can.
Xander was a still distracted when Vasili landed on his shoulder. He was thinking about Spike, and he was thinking about how much his chest hurt, and how wet his stomach felt. Maybe he’d gotten some goo on him. There goes his sexy shirt. Which he had worn to impress Spike. Must be unlucky.
“Xander, all you have to do is wish yourself out of here and you and Spike can go home. You’ve got two wishes left.” Vasili was a little worried. Casualties were not supposed to happen. If they lost another one… well Valery would get a touch angry.
Xander wanted to protest, tell him that they could make their own way home. But now that he thought about it… probably not the best thing for the whole bleeding and possibly dying.
“Go ahead Vasili, take me and Spike home,” Xander tried to say. “Guh had Vasofjlswzs.”
The effort of mumbling took a lot out of Xander. He decided maybe he would sleep a little. Just to gather his strength.
Spike’s stomach jumped into his mouth and back down again. He took the getting-back-home thing in his stride. It was Xander’s breath stuttering and heart slowing down that made Spike slam out the door and break into a run towards the hospital.
Part 27
Spike couldn’t look at Xander, he was a pale green and so fragile looking against the starchy white of the hospital sheets. How could he have let this happen? How dare Xander do this? Spike’s head dropped back down into his hands and he shook his entire body in an attempt to make it all just go away.
The stillness of the room and Xander’s unnatural silence were so painfully loud that Spike needed to occupy it with something.
“I’ve been watching you Xander. I don’t know when it happened, but it seems like forever and only yesterday that it started happening. Every time I looked at you, you took my breath away. I don’t even have breath! It’s ludicrous.” Spike grasped Xander’s hand in his and closed his eyes to block the image of drips and lines and tubes connecting Xander to a respirator. His breathing was unnaturally even, and Spike hated it with a passion, wished he wasn’t able to discern natural breathing from unnatural. But he knew. Xander wasn’t breathing on his own because one lung was pierced and deflated with his own rib and the other was flooded with fluid. Xander’s heartbeat was weak because he’d lost so much blood and wouldn’t get another transfusion for a while because his body was rejecting what it had already been pumped full of. He just hoped that Willow would have some way of magicking whatever the hell was wrong with Xander.
“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you Xander. You drive me insane. You sit next to me all innocent and unsuspecting, brushing against my hand in the popcorn bowl, sipping from my bottle of beer even though your own is a metre to your left. Covering my lip prints directly with yours. You think I don’t notice? Because I do. I notice everything you do. Especially when I try so hard to hide the very same thing as soon as you hand the bottle back.”
Spike thought that maybe he’d seen Xander’s mouth twitch at that. He knew it was impossible, but he could pretend, just for a little while, that Xander was finally hearing him pour his heart out.
“I’ve been thinking, Xan, and I realised what the fuck’s wrong with us. We’re just the same, you know? We’ve always sort of fallen into things. We take a situation and run with it. We’re always getting chosen, getting told what to do, and when we’re not, we know what’s expected of us. You joined the white hat brigade because a little blonde ball of fluff came along and made the good fight look glamorous and enticing. Your cheerleader practically mounted you, and so did the evil slayer. You kill the vampires and help the damsels in distress, but you never think about what you want because there’s never any time. I played the lovelorn fool, fell into the role of the Big Bad, no problems. I knew what I was supposed to do, did it well. Even the chip in my head tells me what to do.” Spike gave Xander’s hand a squeeze and ordered his thoughts, trying to get past the lump in his throat and just tell Xander what he was thinking.
“But now it’s the two of us. And fools that we are, neither of us knows how to act. You’re not being jumped and I’m not being told and we’re lost, stuck in the middle, waiting for the other to make the first move and afraid of what’s going to happen. God, we’re cowards Xan. Only I’ve never had a friend before.” A choking sob broke through the lump and a tear ran down Spike’s cheek. “Xan, please just wake up!” His distressed wail petered out into gentle sobs that wracked his body. He was so tired. Tired of lying to himself, tired of lying to Xander, tired of pretending and playing a part and just tired of unlife. He wanted Xander to wake up. He wanted Xander to open his eyes and look at him and tell him… tell him anything, really. Because Xander’s breathing was still unnaturally slow and methodic. And his heart was still too sluggish. And the most frightening of all was that his eyes were still behind his lids.
Spike’s heart-wrenching howl startled a nurse walking by. Her head popped around the door and her heart melted at the sight of a fierce-looking punk sobbing into the sheets, holding on to his boyfriend’s hand. His head was resting carefully just underneath the injured ribs, his other hand was running methodically through damp curls, and he wasn’t looking up at what was his name, ah yes Alexander, Alexander’s face. He must have been afraid of the ashen blankness there. She had worked in this hospital over a decade, and Sunnydale General had its fair share of serious injuries, but she would never get used to seeing that absolute blank greyness that came with the combination of severe blood loss and acute hypothermia. Poor boys, they must really love each other.
Nurse Laney sighed and pressed a hand to her heart, because the pain in Spike’s Spike, what kind of a name is Spike? face was so clear that she had to look away. In her line of work, mourning relatives and friends were an everyday occurrence. But something about the whispered reassurances and choked-back tears touched her. This wasn’t just an everyday couple. There was something special about them. She sent a silent prayer up for the grey-faced boy in the bed, because she had a feeling that if he went, his friend wouldn’t take long to follow. She could reach out and touch the grief in the room, it was so tangible. And that kind of fierce, beautiful, passionate love was something to be cherished.
“Have a cup of coffee honey. You look tired.” Laney took a step into the room and smiled gently at the young man that seemed to clutch the hand in his even tighter, as if afraid that she was going to make him leave. “Go on. It won’t help him if you’re exhausted. You should get something to eat, too.”
Spike looked up about to growl at the woman when he realised that she was genuinely trying to help. It was nice to have someone else to talk to, anyway. “Thanks,” he whispered, “Not hungry though.”
“How about one of the god-awful hospital meals? Not even close to being gourmet, but they’re nutritious. I don’t think your boyfriend would want you starving yourself.” She looked imploringly at Spike and smiled at him again, “You won’t have to leave him. I’ll bring it to you.”
Spike felt such a strong affection for the woman that he insanely regretted all the people he’d ever killed. She had to have seen their corpses, dealt with other grieving relative. He was going to be a vegetarian from now on, even if the chip came out. No one deserved to go through this, no one. Tears flooded Spike’s eyes again and he smiled crookedly at the nurse. “Thank you,” he repeated again, “You’re a good woman.”
Laney returned Spike’s watery smile. “So what do you say, how about steak, potato and gravy?”
“I’d love some, but I… steak extra rare?” He tried not to look too suspicious, just in case.
Ah, so that explained the unnaturally pale complexion. Although she knew she should run away as fast as she could, or at least alert someone to the presence of his kind in the hospital, she had a feeling about this man. He wasn’t here to hurt anyone. In fact, she had a feeling he hadn’t hurt anyone in a long time. “The stock cupboard is across the hall, it might have some… emergency rations in the fridge,” she smiled at Spike’s stunned look and walked across to the little window, drawing the curtains tightly. “I’ll add your name to the register, so you can stay through to the morning. There’s a drain that leads to the sewers on the second floor, just in case.”
Spike’s jaw dropped and he didn’t know what to say. The nurse just smiled at him again and walked across the room, her hand hovering above his shoulder before letting it drop to her side again. “Do you love him?” she asked it suddenly, and caught Spike off-guard.
“Yes.” Spike answered her immediately, knowing better than to lie. “So much.” His eyes filled with tears again.
“How?” Laney had never imagined that a vampire could feel this way about a human. She was not a stupid woman, and she’d worked here for too long to delude herself about what was and what was not real. She had thought she knew it all, until this.
Spike looked up and shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I hated him. But we had to live together and somehow…”
“It always hits you hardest when you don’t see it coming.” Her eyes were full of wisdom and knowledge, Spike could tell. “And does he love you?”
“I don’t know. But maybe some day he will.” Spike squeezed Xander’s hand and looked back up again. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he leaves me.”
Laney sat down near Spike, taking one of the chairs provided for visitors. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I’m on my break.” She smiled kindly and squeezed the hand Spike was holding Xander’s with. “Tell me how a boy stole a vampire’s heart.”
Spike settled back and closed his eyes, wondering who this woman was and why she had him feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. She knew about his kind, knew what he was capable of. But she wasn’t judging him. So he began the story, glad to finally be able to share the whole thing with someone. Funny that the first being he’d ever been able to confide in, aside from Xan, was a complete stranger who had seen his death, violence and destruction first hand. Someone who had to console parents and brothers and sisters and lovers every night because someone like him had come along and snuffed out their lives without a second thought.
“I’m a monster,” He whispered. “I don’t deserve him. He’s so pure.”
“Ah, but sometimes believing you don’t deserve to be happy is the very act that frees you for deserving it.”
Spike shook and let himself think for a moment that Xander’s pure, unselfish love could possibly be for him, could possibly be deserved. It was beautiful and it burned.
“I never thought that this is where we would end up. At first I thought he was going to drive me up the wall, you should see him sometimes. But then… then he came up with this crazy idea of a truce. And we became friends,” Spike paused and shook himself, as if even the idea of a friend was implausible. “It just seemed natural…”
Spike kept talking and Laney listened, letting him pour out all his hope and grief and pain. It was hard to remember that this heartbroken man was actually a century old killer. He seemed just a love-sick little boy on the verge of something new and wonderful and frightening. He seemed just like a little boy terrified of losing someone he loved, terrified of losing this beautiful thing he’d just discovered. And if a soulless vampire was capable of feeling this kind of love, then Laney had hope left for the fate of the world.
Spike told her everything. He told her about Dru and Angel and his feelings of inadequacy and fear of abandonment. He shared his dread of Buffy and Willow’s reactions if something were to happen. He told her about his history with relationships and how he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk losing Xander’s friendship. Most of all, with tears in his eyes and his voice catching in his throat, he told her about how much he hated the chip and yet cherished it at the same time. It was so hard, because even without a soul he couldn’t believe how mindlessly he’d killed and fed and destroyed. The chip had made him stop, made him remember his own humanity, how much life was worth. Finally, just after telling her everything, he’d drifted off to sleep, one hand still clutching Xander’s as if his life depended on it, the other curled in a fist, resting just on top of the boy’s heart.
Laney got up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She’d only just met Spike, and she only really knew Xander through Spike’s disjointed story, but she had a fierce urge to protect the two men. She let her eyes flash a deep purple, and reached back into the room with her senses, cleansing Spike’s dreams and soothing his fears. Laney would not interfere any more, she knew better than that. But she would do her best to rally all the help she could get for the men. She knew that powerful love like theirs was the strongest magic of all, and she could sense a pure evil on its way.
Part 28
When Buffy burst into Xander’s room she didn’t expect to find Spike curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair with his head bent at an awkward angle on Xander’s belly, clutching his hand. She came to an abrupt halt, blinking a few times to make sure what she was seeing was real because if she wasn’t wrong those were tear tracks on Spike’s cheek.
At first she wanted to wake Spike up and pound him into something bloody. But as she twirled a stake dangerously close to his heart, Buffy realised that she didn’t want Spike dead. Sure most of the time she wanted him mangled, but somehow it seemed important that she not disturb him. It was funny that he’d slept through her stomping into the room, so there must have been something at work keeping him asleep. Buffy sat in another of the chairs in the room and waited.
She must have been sitting there for an hour. This thing between Xander and Spike, whatever it was, it seemed like it was genuine. Why else would Spike babysit at Xander’s hospital bed? Why else would he be clutching his hand as if he was never going to let go? Buffy frowned and looked up at the ceiling, feeling as if she was intruding on something intimate and private when she looked at the pair.
“May I help you?” Laney had come in to check in the boys before leaving at the end of her shift when she felt a foreign presence in the room. A powerful-looking blonde girl sat gazing at the ceiling in some sort of a trance, and it was a touch disturbing.
“No. I’m just waiting for my friend to wake up. I’m Buffy Summers, I should be on the list.” Buffy looked across the room and looked away quickly. Something about this woman screamed authority and power, and it was starting to wig her out.
“Spike took something to help him sleep. He’ll come around soon.” Laney smiled kindly at the girl.
“Oh, Spike’s not my friend. Xander is. Spike’s just… Spike.” Buffy laughed nervously, trying her best to look innocent and pretend she hadn’t almost told a total stranger about vampires.
“In my experience, no one is ever just anything. And Spike is certainly a unique man.” Laney frowned at Buffy. There was something different about her, something strange. “You don’t have many people to call friend, and I would think that Spike would be one of the better candidates.”
Buffy was a little embarrassed and a lot suspicious. Who was this woman, and how dare she tell her she had no friends? “I have plenty of friends. Friends a-plenty. In fact, I have so many friends that there isn’t any room for more, thanks very much. Spike is his own friend, not anyone else’s.”
Laney looked at Buffy and frowned. This girl was obviously on the thick side, if she could not see the friendship between the men, if she could not feel the love. “When you treat a man like a monster, he becomes one.” Laney walked out of the room, needing some time to assess whether this Buffy was a threat.
By the time Buffy turned around, Spike’s eyes were fluttering open. He looked up at her owlishly, his hair sticking up on one side of his head. He looked kind of… cute. And harmless. Buffy shook herself out of it. The nurse had obviously rattled her, that was all.
“What is it slayer? No snide remarks? No cruel comments? Has the cat got your tongue?” Spike was instantly defensive, his eyes sparking a yellow that told Buffy to stay away.
Buffy wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Spike looked almost as grey as Xander, and the worry lines etched in his face were palpable even when he was trying to be defensive. He obviously… cared about Xander. And hadn't she resolved to stop being mean to him? Hadn’t he shown her that he had more soul without a soul than Angelus? It was all confusing, and it was so much easier to hate than it was to try and understand. “Shut up Spike.” Not one of her best, but it would do if she coupled it with a nasty glare.
Spike’s face crumbled and he lay his head back down on Xander’s stomach, turned his face away from her. Stupid bitch didn’t know what she was talking about. Had no idea. Was all righteous and holier-than-thou. But she was just as much a murderer as he had ever been, only she didn’t have an excuse for it. He tried to shut her out and schooled his senses to Xander’s heartbeat. Was it a little weaker than it had been before he’d fallen asleep? Could Xander be getting worse? Spike was getting panicked, and he moved his head further up, listening to Xander’s heart right over his chest.
“What is it?” Buffy could tell that something was wrong by the whimper that escaped Spike. Did he know he was making that sound? He looked so miserable and sad and on the edge… damn it but Spike was making it hard for her. Didn’t he understand that she needed to hold on to her hatred? If she let herself believe that some demons weren’t as bad as others her whole world would change, she’d have to question every vampire she’d staked.
Laney could sense Spike’s distress floating through the walls of the hospital and into her little room upstairs. The girl was disrupting everything.
“Xan’s heartbeat is slowing down. Damn it Slayer, what if he doesn’t make it? Where’s the witch? Where is Giles? Why are you here, if you’re not going to help?” Spike’s head hadn’t turned towards Buffy and his voice remained soft so as not to disturb Xander, but Buffy felt the urgency.
“Willow is on the way with Giles, they’re bringing healing potions. I thought I’d come and keep Xander company. Didn’t want him to be alone.” Buffy felt as if a wall had been built around the bed, and she couldn’t quite take that step forward that she wanted to. Xander looked so grey, so ill, she just couldn’t bear to touch him because it would make everything real.
“And what, I’m not here? I’m not keeping him company? I don’t care about him just because I have no buggerin’ soul? You think you’re the only one that worries when he’s hurt? You think you’re going to be the only one to…” Spike cut himself off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. It wasn’t going to happen, it wasn’t.
“I guess I didn’t think you’d be here.” Now that Buffy thought about it, she didn’t know exactly what she’d been thinking. Of course Spike would stay. Of course Spike was loyal. Hadn’t he taken care of Dru for millions of years? Wasn’t he the first to patch up Xander’s scrapes and bruises? Didn’t he always insist on gauze and antiseptic even when it was just a grazed knee? Obviously he cared. “Why do you care? What’s so special about Xander? You wouldn’t be here if it was me, or Wills.”
Spike looked up at Buffy in disbelief. “Would you or Red be here if it were me in the bed?” At her silence he smirked and shook his head. “I didn’t think so. But Xander would be.” His voice wavered and broke, and a big fat tear slid down his cheek. Stupid stupid stupid boy, how could he do this? How could he bring out this much humanity?
“I think you had better leave.” Laney gave Buffy a cold look and crossed her arms. “Visiting hours are from eleven. You can come back then, if you so wish.”
Spike sent his thanks across, and if he wasn’t mistaken Laney got it. Buffy looked confused, then stomped her foot petulantly.
“But what about Spike? Why does he get to stay? And my friends are coming, they have… stuff… that could help Xander.” She gave the nurse her patented innocent little girl look, but this one looked like a tough customer.
“When they arrive, I will examine whatever they have. Until then, Spike is the only one to not upset the patient. Please wait outside.”
Buffy grunted and growled but left Laney and Spike alone.
“You have not fed, and you are no use to Xander if you starve.” She looked stern and Spike lowered his eyes. “I have brought you some breakfast. I expect you to eat it all. How has he been?”
Laney handed a bottle full of something warm and red, and Spike immediately took a gulp of some sweet, rich blood.
“I think his heart is slowing down.” Spike finally shifted from his position, getting up to stretch but coming back almost immediately.
Laney considered her options. It was true, Xander’s heart was getting weaker and his breathing more laboured. There was only one way out of this. “I have not enough power in me to make him better, Spike. I will have to call my brother, and we will do it together.”
Spike looked up and gasped. Laney’s eyes had coloured completely purple, the pupils disappeared and a vacant look turned her childish features icy. After a moment she snapped out of it and looked back down at him. “What the hell are you, luv?”
“I come from the Isis bloodline. I have some healing powers, but I am afraid they are not strong. My forte is reading people’s feelings, not changing them. But my brother and I together…” She trailed off. She had not seen Nicholas for so many years. She wondered if he would even respond to her call. “I just hope he gets here soon.”
Laney smiled at Spike, then patted his shoulder. “I have work to do. You stay here, Xander is stronger with your energy in the room.”
Spike gaped after he as she left. A woman of the Isis bloodline… but they were all gone, eradicated in the fifth century! Having her helping Xander, especially if her brother would also… Spike sighed in almost-relief. Xander would get better, he just knew it.
Part 29
Xander had been struggling to force his eyes open for a while but his body refused to give up the fight and let him have some peace. He was so frustrated he wanted to scream, but that function seemed to have been turned off too. He hated feeling this helpless, hated having people worry about him, hated not being able to comfort them and tell them he was okay.
He knew that Spike had been there the entire time. His other friends had come and gone, and he was sure the going had more to do with Spike’s growling than them actually abandoning him, but Spike had stayed put with his head over Xander’s heart and his hand gripping Xander back to earth.
It’s okay Spike, I’m fine. Xander screamed silently. I love you. But nothing came out and Xander was afraid that he would be stuck like this forever, aware but unable to do anything about it.
Spike had been talking to him, and it was the only thing keeping Xander sane. All day he would tell him stories, talk about how they’d met and all the things they’d done together since deciding to bury the hatchet and act humane to each other for once. Xander wanted to tell Spike about the other times, the times that Spike didn’t mention, the first time that he’d realised that he loved him, the first time he’d seen his pupils dilate when he said something with a double meaning entendre, it’s called a double entendre, the first time they’d kissed. Because Xander remembered it all now, remembered how wonderful and beautiful and everything it was, how much he wanted to do it again.
But he couldn’t say a word, couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t tell Buffy to shut up and open her mind for once. So he lay there, listening to Spike’s soft and needless breathing. He caught himself praying more than once that Spike wouldn’t leave, because somehow he was keeping him alive.
Spike was exhausted and starving, and Laney had been right. He was no good to Xander if he was about two seconds away from collapsing. So he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and gave his hand a squeeze before getting up and stretching his legs. He felt the loss of connection as soon as his hand left Xander’s. Xander gasped desperately before the heart rate that had just started to pick up dropped, the breathing slowed completely, and he withdrew.
Spike felt it like a physical blow. His knees buckled beneath his weight and he didn’t have the strength to break his fall when he hit the ground. Xander… all my fault… I’m sorry…
***
“They are special Nikki, they will help our kind when It comes.” Laney spoke softly, knowing that it wasn’t safe to be talking at all.
“And what is so special about a vampire and a human, DeLania?” Nikolas frowned at his sister, knowing that she brought someone ‘special’ every few months, and they always ended up dead.
“The demon knows restraint and control, and most of all he knows love. You cannot say that this has happened before. A vampire without a soul loving a human and being loved in return…” Laney knew that this time was different, that these men could help.
“Alright. Fetch them to me. But this is the last time. I will not sacrifice another life, even if it is to save many.” Nikolas loved his sister, but he would not be able to take the guilt and pain of another fatality. It was true that they were all volunteers and were all well rewarded in the next life, but the grief of those who loved them would not taint another moment.
“I will bring them, but I need you to help me bring the boy out from within himself.” Laney snapped her fingers and brother and sister stood outside a hospital room.
“We will heal him, DeLania, but you know it comes at a cost.” Nikolas sighed and pulled up his sister’s shirt-sleeve. “You do not have much power left sister. You would do well to conserve it before you drain yourself. Our world cannot last without a queen.”
The simultaneous thuds of Spike’s body hitting the floor and Xander’s mind retreating behind shields were so loud that it physically hurt brother and sister.
“Not a moment too soon, Nikki.” Laney rushed into the room and pricked the pad of her middle finger on her right hand, brushing a drop of blood across Xander’s lips and then Spike’s, chanting a rhyme beneath her breath that was as old as the world. A ninth scar appeared on her arm, closely followed by a tenth and Nikolas frowned once more before hurrying forward to help.
***
Xander was floating. He didn't know where he was but it was quiet, it felt like a good place to be and he didn't want to leave. He would be perfectly content to stay forever if only there wasn't something eating away at him from the inside. What was he supposed to remember? What was it that he was missing?
The answer came to him in a wave that dunked him in cold water. Spike. Where was Spike? Xander began to panic, thrashing backwards and forwards trying to get free. He had to get to Spike, he could almost feel some connection to him he didn't even know existed getting weaker and weaker. Something was trying to trick him!
Xander felt as if he was underwater. It made sense that if he was under then he should swim upwards. But sounds were echoing and Xander wasn't sure he knew which way was up, all he could see was murky and blurred and it felt like he was about to drown because every breath he took wasn't enough.
Xander. It was Spike's voice! Spike was somewhere near and Xander had to get to him, had to warn him of the things he'd seen in his dream. Had to protect him and love him. And suddenly he realised which way was up, knew that Spike would guide him.
Don't leave me. Xander tried to scream, tried his best to make his voice heard above the water. Spike must have gotten the message because someone was gripping his hand, pulling him up. Don't let go. He kicked with all his might, gasping for air, grasping for the surface.
Don't give up Xander. Come on, come back to us. It was someone else's voice. Willow's. Willow was here too. He needed to get back up because she couldn't lose him too, Jesse had been bad enough. And Spike was still holding his hand, it would be okay as long as he didn't let go again. He was going to kick him for letting go in the first place too, as soon as he got back. Pinch him and hit him and hold him and love him because he was here, he hadn't left, he hadn't given up.
Please Xander, I don't know what I'll do without you. Buffy didn't know what she would do without him? But he didn't do anything except fetch donuts. He couldn't possibly mean that much to her, it wasn't like he was strong or Witchy. But she was crying, and Buffy never cried. He must be needed for something.
Xander, you cannot give in. You are stronger than that. Giles? What was Giles doing here? Surely he had more important things to do than pull Xander out of wherever the hell he was. But Giles was almost a teacher, so Xander felt like he had to listen.
Xander. You are needed. You must return. A stranger's voice. He didn't know who it was, but he felt the power of her words pulling him to the surface almost as much as Spike's hand was. He had to get back. He was needed. Somehow he knew that this stranger wouldn't lie to him.
Xander sat up straight and gulped in a breath of air that burned him and rejuvenated him at the same time. He opened his eyes and felt as if he'd never seen before.
"Hey guys," he said.
Willow's mouth kept opening and closing like a fish. Buffy burst into tears again and grabbed onto Willow, making her squeak as the air was crushed out of her. Giles looked dazed and didn't even wipe his glasses. Two strangers stood beaming at each other. And Spike...
"I am going to kill you Xan! God, I'm going to rip off your head and throw it as far into the river as I can. I'm going to tear off your arms and legs and eat them. I'm going to... I'm going to..." Spike grabbed Xander and crushed him close, all the while whispering in his ear about all the ways he was going to get revenge for the worry he'd caused. But there was a suspicious sheen that told Xander a lot more than Spike's words did.
Xander did a mental Snoopy dance. He'd made Spike cry! Not that it was a good thing, it wasn't, he never ever wanted to see Spike look as devastated as he had in that instant before he realised that Xander was awake. But Spike cared. He really really cared.
Part 30
Spike was beautiful. He was like the moon on the darkest night, the Sun on the coldest day. Xander couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it before. His face was all angles and sharp lines but there was softness, gentleness behind it. He thought of how Spike’s fingers had always reminded him of someone playing an instrument. If Spike touched him… but Spike would never touch him. No one that beautiful would want to touch someone like Xander. So he would watch and memorise and pretend he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be.
They were staying at Giles’ while he was getting better, and Spike had been left on Xander-sitting duty. Xander was “sleeping” while Spike sat across the hall with the door open just in case there was an emergency. With a lamp that cast shadows over his perfect features he looked like he was wearing a halo. He was reading something, so his eyes were lowered and he was biting his lower lip in concentration. His lips should be made illegal. They were the perfect colour, the perfect texture, and Xander was willing to bet that they tasted just as good as they looked.
Every once in a while Spike read something amusing and he would break into a wide, genuine smile. Xander had seen that smile directed at him a few times since they’d become friends, and he could remember every single one of them, could press his mental play button and see them all again if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t, because it hurt. He hadn’t seen Spike smile at him since that day in the hospital. He seemed to have withdrawn from him, gone back inside himself. They hardly ever talked any more. Sure, he would fetch anything Xander wanted him to. But that smile that Xander wanted to see so much never appeared, never lit his face all the way to his eyes, or made Xander forget about everything he’d ever done wrong.
Xander’s eyes dipped lower to concentrate on the strip of skin between Spike’s t-shirt and pants. His shirt had taken a ride up his stomach and not come back. Xander couldn’t believe how hot he found it, the little bit of white peaking out from between the black material. It was perfect, every hair placed as if by hands of the Gods themselves. What Xander wouldn’t give just to be able to dip his tongue inside the belly button he could see a hint of, to trace that line of hair all the way down to…
He cast his eyes away, the only way of maintaining his loose grip on sanity. He wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but some time between going into the coma and coming out again Spike had learned how to melt Xander. And it wasn’t anything he did either, it was enough for him to just be there for Xander to be hard enough to make his head spin. It was a good thing that Xander was stuck in bed, because he didn’t think he could walk without limping from his constant erection.
Spike’s feet were bare, one tucked underneath him, the other casually tapping the floor. Gods, but his feet were sexier than all the breasts Xander had ever seen. They were perfect, just like every other part of Spike. Perfect in that fallen angel kind of way. Pale and too small for a man, with a high arch and black chipped nail polish to match his hands. Powerful feet, just like the rest of him.
I’m so gay.
Xander closed his eyes and let out a long, low groan. Spike’s feet had just made his erection surge. That was it. He’d run out of safe places to look. But as much as he wanted to keep his eyes shut, wanted to keep himself from doing or saying something embarrassing, he couldn’t do it. He needed to look just one last time. Get it out of his system. Yeah right Xander.
So he dared another look, but as soon as he opened his eyes he squeezed them shut again. Oh. Dear. Gods. There’s no mercy, no mercy at all. He forced himself to look, forced himself not to leap out of the bed and onto the vampire whose arms were stretched above his head, making every single muscle stand out in his arms and chest and stomach. He was balancing on his toes, accentuating the curve of his spine. And an image of Spike stretched that way, naked and covered in a thin sheen of Xander’s sweat, flashed into Xander’s mind. The gasp would have been enough to give him away if Spike hadn’t sneezed at that exact same moment.
What’s wrong with me? Xander thought even as his hand trailed down to stroke his own belly. He couldn’t get the vampire out of his head and it was made even worse by Spike shutting him out. Tears stung Xander’s eyes as he thought of the closeness they’d begun to share before, at how easy it had been to play pool, to hang out, to make fun of crappy C-grade movies. What had happened to make Spike suddenly hate him? Was it because he was weak? Was it because he was stupid and small and incapable of anything except getting into all kinds of trouble? He’d been so happy in the hospital that day, Spike had been holding his hand and acting like he cared, like he was happy Xander had woken up. And now all he seemed to do was avoid him as if he was sunlight and holy water and a giant cross all mixed up into one pudgy, weak, all-too-human body.
Spike settled himself into the armchair again, dropped his head onto the back. Xander gasped, so turned on by the stretching of that beautiful neck, needing so badly to… to… anything but this. It hurt. It hurt so much.
Spike smelt the tangy saltiness before he heard the muffled gasp coming from Xander’s room. He surged to his feet, ready to search and destroy, ran forwards. The bed was empty. The curtains were shivering in the breeze. Dawn was in all of thirty-three minutes. Just. Fuckin’. Great. He was on his way to the telephone when the scent hit him like a wall and made his knees give in, made him collapse and grasp his head. It was sex and the worst kind of pain, fear and anger that seeped into his pores and attacked every one of his senses, but strongest of all was the scent of oh gods… longing that was palpable. Why hadn’t he sensed this before? How did he not know that Xander was suffering this much? And what was making him feel this way?
Spike was suddenly scared out of his mind. If what he absorbed after Xander was gone was any indication of the way Xander was feeling, he didn’t know where to look for him or even if he would find him again in one piece.
***
Sometimes Xander felt so stupid that he wanted to bash his head against a wall until he blacked out. This was one of those times. He’d been walking for about fifteen minutes now, everything hurt, his head hadn’t cleared at all, and he didn’t feel like he could walk any further without losing a lung. He didn’t even know where the hell he was, and he’d only just realised that he had no money, he was wearing thin sweat pants and a shirt that did nothing to keep out the sharp sting of Winter. Maybe if he sat down, just for a little while, maybe then he’d feel better? Might just lie down for a moment. Just rest my eyes.
***
Spike was frantic with worry, his heart was just about ready to go for a walk, all his senses were telling him to turn back, to get inside, to run run run. He felt the sun rising in every fibre of his being. But Xander was out here somewhere, and though his scent was fading fast, Spike could feel him nearby. He was going to find him, get him into bed, lock every door and window in the house and then rip him to shreds. If he didn’t turn to dust first.
He would have missed him if it wasn't for the glint of light reflecting off his watch. Spike had no time to check for vitals, he hoisted him up onto his back and practically flew in the direction of home.
The door slammed shut behind them just in time. Spike’s heal was charred, his hands were burning, his whole body felt ready to burst into flames. It was just as Spike settled him back onto the bed and lifted the covers over his shivering form that Xander’s eyes were slowly fluttering open, and the boy took his breath away.
Xander was beautiful. He would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been looking properly, because it was something on the inside that made Xander shine with an innate kind of earthy beauty. His face was so expressive, so open. Everything he felt could be found right there, clear and plain as day. And it was the pain that made Xander stunning.
“Xander?” he whispered, didn’t feel right raising his voice for some reason. All his anger flooded out of him and all that was left was a fear that left his knees weak. “Xander, what’s happening?”
Xander opened his eyes and shut them just as quickly. Spike had been leaning over him, close enough that Xander could feel the puffs of breath he expelled with every unneeded breath. Torture, pure agony. Spike’s face was framed by the light that filtered through the yellow lampshade. An angel on earth, flawless, dazzling, astonishing, frightening.
“I wish… I wish I didn’t know you.” Xander’s internal censor wasn’t working.
“Why would you want that, pet?”
Xander laughed bitterly, of course Spike wouldn’t understand. “Why wouldn’t I? I don’t know where I stand. I don’t know what I did. Just when… and then you’re… I’m sick of all this. I’m sick of fighting, I’m sick of trying. What’s the point? Nothing ever changes.”
Spike thought he could feel his unbeating heart crack. He’d never heard Xander sound so resigned before, never smelt the stink of rejection. “There’s always a point. You have to fight because otherwise they win.”
“What if I want them to win? What if I’m sick of trying and fighting and nothing ever working out right for me. I’ve saved people Spike, averted more than my fair share of apocalypses. Constantly risking my life, but for what, for who?”
Spike had never seen Xander so shattered, never imagined that this boy would be the one to give up. “What brought this on?” he whispered.
“You did.”
Spike blinked up at him, speechless for once. How had this been his fault? What had he done? “I didn’t!” He leapt to his own defence, as always.
“You won’t even look at me anymore.” Xander turned his head to the side, the only privacy he could afford when he couldn’t leave the room, couldn’t make Spike leave.
“I…” Spike wanted to lie, wanted to tell Xander that he was being ridiculous. Only it was true. “I’m sorry.” He said instead.
“Why?” Xander needed to know.
“Because you’re human. Only human. So fragile.” Tears flooded Spike’s eyes and he was out the door before he could see Xander break.
Only human. Xander would always be only human. He was weak and powerless and useless and all those other words that meant no one would ever want him. Spike would be better off with Buffy, at least he wouldn’t be afraid of breaking her. Only human.
He had crawled out of bed in an attempt to go after Spike before landing on his ass with his back to the wall when he realised there was nothing to be said. Spike had a point, because Xander would never be right for him. Spike was everything Xander was not, and he deserved someone to match. So Xander sat for as long as he could remember, which could have been an hour or a day, and didn’t think about anything. Images of Spike flashed past his eyelids but he ignored them. Jesse floated across sometimes, and Xander ignored him too. He wondered for a moment what it would have been like to let Jesse bite him way back then, what he would be doing. I’d be dead. Or undead. Might be better than being unalive.
Spike had gotten all the way to the front door when he realised what he was doing. He was running away from what was quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to him. Xander… Xander was so full of love, and he was willing to send a little of that love Spike’s way, to touch his life the way he thanklessly touched the lives of all his friends. And Spike knew that with Xander there was no half way, he wouldn’t give only to take away, he wouldn’t heal just to harm again. Xander was genuine, he was real and he was everything Spike didn’t deserve and yet had been desperately searching for his entire life, and then the unlife that followed. Xander might be breakable, but it was too late to try and not get too emotionally involved. He would be just as worried, just as terrified every time he was met with the sight of Xander in pain. But maybe he had a chance at happiness. So why wasn’t he taking what was being offered? Why was he running away and leaving this chance at fulfilment behind?
He took the stairs two at a time and almost crashed into the listless form of Xander, motionless and sickly pale and lying on the floor.
Spike paused because he’d done that, he’d make Xander look so hopeless and helpless and sad. Because he was selfish and didn’t want it to hurt, thought it would have been easier to just shut himself off now before it got to be too hard. Only it was already too hard, already too late, and he needed to make Xander see that. “I’m sorry.” It was barely loud enough to hear, and Xander didn’t seem to register it, but Spike couldn’t force the words out of his mouth again.
Xander’s mouth opened and closed and he shut his eyes, rubbed them, then opened them again. Spike was still there. He wasn’t dreaming. “You came back?” He’d hoped but…
Suddenly it wasn’t so hard any more. “I’m sorry.” It was louder this time, like he wanted to tell the entire world but needed Xander to know it first.
Oh. Sorry. They were always sorry, but if they were sorry why did they do it again and again? “Of course you are. Look Spike, just leave me alone. I’m human, I get it. I can’t back you up in a fight, and I’m always the one getting hurt, and all I do well is get donuts. Only sometimes I forget what kinds of donuts everyone wants, so I’m not even good at that. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to feel guilty, don’t bother yourself. I understand.”
Xander’s voice was so resigned that it broke Spike’s heart and made him angry at the same time. Did the boy think that little of him? “No you don’t get it, Xander. I’m… I’m going to live forever pet. You’re not. Anything could hurt you, and what if I can’t save you? What if I’m too slow? What if…”
Xander interrupted, livid that Spike was saying this, livid that Spike was even thinking it. “Geez Spike, well excuse me that you’re going to live forever. I’m sorry I’m not all vampire-y like you. I’m sorry that I’m just human.”
“Xander, I don’t want to live forever if it means a forever without you.” It had escaped his mouth without permission, but now that it was out Spike realised how right it was, how much he meant it. When Xander saw his last sunset, Spike would see his last sunrise. And he was okay with that. Living forever wasn’t worth it if you had no one to share it with.
“What?” Xander wasn’t sure if he’d heard right, wasn’t sure if maybe this was some kind of trick.
“There are things we have to think about, have to talk about. Never had a human lover before pet, but I know vamps that have gone insane from it. You’ll get sick and you’ll get hurt and sometimes I won’t be able to save you.” Spike paused and thought about what he wanted to say, not wanting to scare Xander off but at the same time wanting him to understand what he was getting himself into.
“Spike, I’m not asking for anything. I know it’ll be hard. And yeah, we’re going to have some major issue-like things to worry about that will involve a little more than just who gets to use the bathroom first and which side of the bed I get to sleep on. I just… I want to give it a go. I… I think I might… that is to say…” Xander trailed off and played with the hem of his t-shirt. This was almost as hard to say out loud as it was to admit to himself. And what if Spike didn’t feel the same? What if he was going to be making declarations of love and Spike laughed?
Spike took one look at the miserable boy sitting with his back against a wall and looking decidedly uncomfortable and made his decision. It didn’t matter what happened in the future, they could deal with it when they got to it. What mattered was that he was already head over heals in love with Xander bloody Harris, and for once he was allowed to take what he wanted. And gods, he wanted. So it was with a lighter heart that he took the two steps to kneel beside Xander. He tucked a finger under Xander’s chin and lifted it, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Xander, I’m going to be bloody honest for once. I love you. I might not be much. I don’t know how we’re going to make this work. But I know I want this. I want you.”
Xander sat for moment just looking at Spike, really looking, trying to memorise every single detail of this moment, every expression that graced those perfectly chiselled forever features. And then he stopped thinking and closed his eyes, grabbed Spike behind the head and slammed against his mouth, drinking in all the words that couldn’t be said. He gasped and groped for something to hold onto because he didn’t know which way was up anymore, definitely didn’t know which way was down. His world narrowed and his heart stopped and his blood rushed and it was too much but not enough. Everything, this was everything, this was love.
Spike’s stomach smashed into his mouth. The shuddering in his chest could have been his heart or could have been the surge of tears that were running down his face. This was… this was heaven and he didn’t deserve it, but he was going to take it because he was a selfish bastard that was never never never going back. It was magic and it was perfect and Xander was perfect because he was making tiny needy sounds in the back of his throat and he was murmuring all the things Spike had always wanted to hear. And it was the leaves falling in Autumn, it was the snow crunching under bare feet, it was Sunshine and rain at the same time, and it was love, god but it was love.
Neither man felt the air shudder or saw the purple tinge that coloured the room and receded, nor were they yet aware of being bound by magic as old and powerful as the earth itself. Neither heard the dull thud of a tiny, black object landing between them. Neither heard DeLania’s sigh of relief or saw a smile that made the room glow pale yellow as she disappeared.