Navigating Rough Waters ch 4-6
Title: Navigating Rough Water
Author: tempestsreach
Chapter: 4-6/20+
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Adult
Feedback: Love it!
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the characters, etc.
Warnings/Squicks: Rape, non-con S/Aus, illusions to child abuse, M/M
Summary: Spike and Xander, with life not easy for either, the two bumpy paths cross and lead to an unlikely friendship and more.
Notes: Set in season two during the Angelus phase.
Notes 2: Thanks once again to my fantastic and ever hard working beta sublimatedangel and to 50ftqueenie for the making the process smoother and all the support.
Links to previous parts:
Chapters 1-3
Chapter Four
Xander had meant to go home and start copying the notes for History but on the way home he’d gotten distracted.
So now he found himself in possession of five pints of cow’s blood courtesy of the late night opening butchers - ‘Only in Sunnydale!’ - and the vague notion to visit a sick vamp.
“This is so fucking stupid,” Xander said to himself as he walked quietly into his house and upstairs to drop off his books.
“Can’t go for a bit anyway. Too early, the others will be about.” So Xander lay down on his bed to try and work out what! the hell he was doing.
Empathy! That could only be the reason, although how he could be empathising with a blood sucking fiend was beyond all reason.
“Reasonless man, that is me,” he intoned to himself.
Getting up, he checked the clock on his night stand. 7:30pm. Okay, time to rumble!
In hindsight, walking through the streets of Sunnydale with five pints of blood in a backpack and eight in his body perhaps wasn’t the wisest of plans, but the ‘Harris luck’ wasn’t in evidence and he’d made it safely to the warehouse.
Stake once again firmly in hand he crept around the back and up to Spike’s window.
The room being pitch black meant Xander couldn’t see anything within.
Fumbling with the board once more, he slipped into the darkened room and pulled the emergency candles from his backpack. Lighting one, he placed it on the floor by the window and turned to look at the bed.
“Well, if it isn’t one of the slayer's minions, playing White Knight to the Big Bad.”
Xander bolted, grabbed his rucksack and had one hand on the windowsill. ‘Spike awake, SPIKE AWAKE!’
“Wait… Please.” It was the ‘please’ that got Xander. He didn’t think Spike said ‘please’ to many people especially not a useless human boy and Xander didn’t get many pleases in his life.
The vampire had wilted. Spike just sat there looking alone and apprehensive.
“Why?” was the only word Spike could get out when Xander remained in the room without speaking.
Nobody did anything for free. In his book, it was dog eat dog in the world and Spike was usually one of the biggest, meanest dogs around. ‘Except I’m not, I’m banged up and fuckin’ useless.’ The recent beating by Angelus and his subsequent submission to ‘fuckin’ Master’ stung.
He watched as the huge brown eyes of the boy crept over him up to his face and looked in his eyes; trying to read his soul, if he’d had one, was what it felt like.
“n..n..NOBODY should be hurt like that!”
Spike snarled, demon face racing to the front. ‘He’s seen!’ Leaning forward, he snarled, “You tell anyone, boy? I'll fucking gut you like an overripe fruit.”
Xander shook, edging back once again.
“N..n..no,” he whispered. “Never.”
The quiet words reached Spike faster than any loud extended protestations would have done and he calmed. Demon still to the fore, but now able to plan his words.
“You fed me your blood?” Xander nodded. “Tells a lot, blood,” Spike commented.
The boy’s wide eyes held no guile and Spike started to feel a little uncomfortable; he knew he was scaring the boy, but after feeling so helpless for so long it stroked the demon's ego, made it purr.
“Come closer,” Spike asked.
“Not 'til you promise not to eat me.”
Spike leered. “Oh, you're no fun, pet.” A strange look with the demon to the fore.
Xander blushed a deep red when he finally realised the intent behind that statement.
“You... You... Ummm... No...” Xander stumbled over the several sentences that wanted to escape his mouth all at once.
Pushing his demon back, Spike tried to ease the situation. “Just teasing, pet. You go a lovely colour when you blush.”
Xander gathered himself. “Look I just brought you something, okay? So I’m gonna give it to you, then leave.”
Quickly opening his rucksack, he pulled out the first packet of blood and tossed it onto the bed. Making sure to keep as far from Spike as possible, he threw the remaining four in quick succession.
“What’s this, pet?”
“Look... I know you can’t hunt at the moment and I know once you can, it’ll be fine and I’m probably gonna be the first one on the menu, but I thought it might help you get…” Xander drifted off into silence. “Yeah, stupid idea. Stupid Xander, sorry.”
Spike gazed at the boy in amazement. He’d brought blood for him! Admittedly cow’s blood by the looks of it, but blood never the less. Still he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “If you come over here, I could have it from the tap, so as to speak.” A sly grin followed.
“NO.. very much of the no-ness there.” Xander backed further away, panicking.
“Sorry, pet.” Spike sighed and looked at the packages on the bed in front of him. Vulnerability flashed across his face for a moment. “These are good, okay, just..” he trailed off.
“WHAT?!” Xander the ever present feeling of being useless bubbling up, spoke louder than planned; they both stilled and glanced at the door.
Silence; both eyes fixed to see if they had been heard.
Spike cocked his head, using all his senses to work out if Angelus was even in the warehouse. The boy’s heartbeat pounded as the minutes swept on.
“I don’t think he’s even here; must be out with the others. Dru too, seems pretty dead like.”
Xander's drop in heart rate signalled a decrease in the tension in the room.
“O..Okay.”
“I need to go.” Xander said after a moment, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.
Spike looked at the boy, really looked. The bloody awful clothes hid a slight but well formed musculature, hair a dark chestnut brown and eyes that seemed to show every thought and feeling a hundred fold.
“Pet, if I drink these real quick like, can .. can you take the packages with you? Nowhere to hide them, see?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, should have thought of that.”
Xander glanced at his watch. “Okay, but hurry. I need to get back, my curfews earlier on a week night.” Not that his parents ever really noticed if he was there or not unless it was to vent their anger on.
“Mummy and daddy gonna worry if you're not in?!” Spike snorted.
“Yeah, something like that,” Xander muttered in reply, not looking up.
With that comment, the smell of fear, ever present since Xander had entered his bedroom, peaked then dipped off. Spike pondered this as he hastily drank the blood, grimacing at the taste of cold cow’s blood.
“Yuck, fucking disgusting that,” he spat out, as he threw the last empty at the boy.
“It’s all I could get, sorry.”
“S’all right, pet. Just nasty is all. You off then?” Spike pasted an air of disinterest over the words.
Xander glanced at his watch again. “Shit, yes,” he replied as he scrabbled to close the rucksack at his feet.
Turning, he checked to see if the coast was clear outside the window and tossed the rucksack out, bracing himself to follow.
“Boy? What’s yer name?”
Xander paused and whispered back over his shoulder, “Xander.”
Blue and brown met and Spike spoke without really thinking. “If you come back, I promise not to eat you.”
Xander smiled and disappeared, the board back in place. Spike followed the sounds of his departure as far as his senses would allow until he was left in the darkness, a single candle dipping and flickering his only proof of the visit.
Chapter Five
Xander winced as someone bumped into his back in the hallway. He’d gotten in late last night and his dad had caught him. Luckily, he’d been too drunk to do more that toss him to the floor and lay in a few well placed kicks before staggering off to find his wife passed out in front of the T.V, opening another beer, and joining her in drunken slumber.
It had been two weeks since the first time he had stopped and helped Spike. He tried to visit the vampire every couple of days and he was amazed at how well they got on.
Xander almost felt comfortable in his presence. He didn’t need to put up his goofy front and they talked about all sorts of stuff.
Places Spike had been, what he had seen, just never the people. Xander didn’t really want to know the carnage Spike had caused. After one little incident where Spike had got a bit too into the story and Xander had gone green and left quickly, Spike seemed to get that.
Now out of bed, but still in the wheelchair, Spike often came to the window when Xander knocked quietly and took the rucksack before moving back to allow Xander to enter.
Last night they had talked about Thailand and the Silk Road and the battles of early history; the conversation carrying on into the night, hence his late arrival back home.
Xander smiled to himself. ‘For a bloodthirsty fiend, Spike is good company.’ The small part of his brain that meant hyena to him rumbled a purring reply of contentment; the solider just whispered words of caution about betrayal and not letting his guard down. Xander pushed him firmly back into the distance, shutting him up.
Suddenly pushed against the locker beside him, Xander winced as the padlock pressed into his sore ribs.
“Hi Xander,” Buffy grated out with false cheerfulness. “Where you been? You haven’t made patrol in awhile.”
Slightly shocked by the firmness of Buffy’s shove, Xander panicked slightly. “Umm… Buff... less of the slayer strength pushin’ and shovin’... only human here, remember?!”
“Where’ve you been?” she replied, not easing up.
“Buffy, you're hurting Xander, let him go,” Willow spoke up, hugging her next class books, looking uncomfortable.
Buffy released Xander reluctantly, still pushing her body into his personal space.
“Xander, we were worried about you,” Willow continued. “You haven’t been around in the last few weeks and we missed you.”
Saved from answering by the bell, Xander relaxed as they moved off to class. Willow still looked worried, but her mind had obviously drifted on to other things, like the math he hadn’t studied for homework.
Xander moaned, “Crap,” looking down at the test paper in front of him. ‘Another spectacular Xanman failure coming up!’
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Slipping away after the last class, losing himself in the push and shove of the crowd exiting the high school steps, Xander watched as his best friend and Buffy wandered off chatting about anything and nothing.
Mentally pulling himself together, he walked off, heading home. Pausing along the way to pet Mrs Troutman’s Pekinese and to help the old lady up her porch with the large bags she was struggling with, coming away with six home baked chocolate chip cookies and an offer of yard work for cash if he wanted some.
Munching happily on one of the cookies, he entered his street and paused to survey his house. No car. ‘Guess dad’s out for the day.’ Walking more confidently up to the porch, he pushed open the door. His mother lay on the sofa, not opening her eyes as she spoke.
“Alexander?”
“Yes Mom?” Sometimes Xander wondered if she really knew who he was or if it was just good guess work.
“Mommy’s feeling poorly today, so you need to be quiet.”
Xander winced. She rarely hit him these days, and it did little but sting when she did, but those words had followed him through childhood. Even at age five and six, they were enough to calm him even at his most hyperactive.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll be good.” He slipped quietly upstairs and sat on his bed. Pulling out his hidden teddy - ‘cause big boys don’t need toys’ - he rested his head on its soft almost plush-less ears.
Xander rarely felt sorry for himself; nobody cared, so it didn’t do a lot of good. You just got on with life, coping with whatever it threw at you and moving on, hoping one day you’d be free. Live in a nice house, never having to worry about who was around and what mood they were in.
Shrugging, he pulled his thoughts away from the pipe dreams and considered Spike. What was the attraction? You couldn’t say they were really friends; the vamp talked to him, sure, and they laughed together, Spike’s dry British humour complimenting his own natural wit. But there was always that inequality; humans were food to vamps, pets at most; Spike had tried to explain a bit about how vampire hierarchy worked.
“See pet, the thing is... I might not like it and never willingly admit it, but he owns me. Made me, trained me, owns me.”
“But nobody should own anybody.” Xander had replied in his naivety.
Spike had sighed and thought for a moment.
“Your folks,” he said, hesitating a bit, not wanting to upset the boy, so carefully wording the sentence as a statement not a question. “They're not the best in the world.”
At Xander's brief nod, more than he had admitted to anyone, ever, Spike continued.
“Yet you stay? Put up with it? Cos it's family and you aren’t old enough or big enough to stop it. It’s kinda like that.”
Xander had been confused. “But you’re strong, big enough, old enough to look after yourself.” And after a pause, “Family?”
They had spent an hour talking and by the end Xander had kinda gotten it; the hyena helped, pushing thoughts of pack and what it meant forward, pecking orders and alphas.
The sound of a car grinding its way unhealthily over the gravel in the front of the house pulled him from his reverie. The front door pulled from the frame, sticking the few vital seconds so that the door handle hit the wall.
“Fucking home, woman, where’s my dinner?” Surly tones made lethargic and coarse by alcohol.
Xander shut out the sounds of his mother crying out and the fighting below.
Rubbing the soft head of his teddy, he decided. ‘Spike, I'll go see him again. I know I only saw him yesterday, but I don’t think he’ll mind.’
Chapter six
The melancholy mood of earlier lifted and Xander was once again creeping round the warehouse in the dark, questioning his sanity.
“Thaw thomething round here Ralf, I know I did.”
“You and your imagination are gonna get us thaked, Ted, nextht you’ll be telling me you think it’th the Thlayer.”
The two minions lisped around their fangs as Xander crouched in the bushes a couple of feet from Spike's window. ‘I’m small, you can’t see me,’ repeating wildly in his brain as he hoped that for once in his life the mantra worked.
“DON’T thay things like that Ralf, 'th'not nithe, thcaring me tho.
“Thut up, will you? Can't hear a damn thing with you blathering on.”
The voices faded into the distance. ‘Angelus isn't turning the sharpest pencils in the box.’ The thought of mixing vampires and a saying about pencils had Xander chuckling very quietly to himself, crawling out of the bushes and brushing himself off.
A glance through the boards to check that Spike was alone revealed the wheelchair but no Spike.
“Man, where is he?” Xander breathed whilst shifting from foot to foot, debating the logic of going in if Spike was absent. Deciding in was more healthy than out, he removed the board, slipped in and, with some jiggling, managed to prop it back in place. He normally didn’t bother, but it was earlier than usual and with the minions wandering about, it seemed prudent.
Sifting through the pockets of his pants, he found the tail end of a candle. Spike had explained that he didn’t need light, really, and it was just another way Angelus could dominate him: keeping him in the dark unless he begged for light, and never supplying more than a few candles at a time.
Rolling the flint with his thumb a couple of times to get his lighter to catch, he lit the candle and looked around. He’d never been here without Spike in the room.
“Xander, that you, pet?” A wet sounding voice drifted from beyond the far side of the bed.
“Spike?” Xander shot round the far side of the bed and jolted to a halt.
Laying on the floor, face bruised and lip split and with what looked like a broken arm, was Spike.
“Fuck!” The expletive burst from Xander’s mouth before he could stop it.
“That about sums it up, pet.” Spike looked down at himself “Don’t suppose you could give me a hand up on to the bed?”
Spike wasn’t sure the boy would. In all their talks, even coming through the window, Xander wouldn’t get close to him, waiting 'til he rolled out the way before coming in. Trust was being built, but slowly.
Xander's eyes widened. ‘Pick him up!’...‘Don't get close to him!’ The fear scent doubled in the room and Spike sighed.
“S’all right pet, I know you don’t trust me yet, no reason to. Don’t suppose you’ve any blood on you?”
“Sorry Spike, I don’t. I couldn’t afford to get any at the moment anyway.”
“Fuck,” snarled Spike, the pain in his arm throbbing and teasing away, bringing his demon to the front.
Xander stood blinking, hyena stirring. ‘Won’t hurt us, trust him.’ Even the solider softened with a ‘Damaged comrade.' It was Xander, though, who thought back over the nights of talking and stories.
Decision made, he moved forward.
“You bite me, Blondie, and there will be no more blood deliveries for you!” he joked to cover his nervousness.
Spike, shocked momentarily into silence, allowed the warm hands to slide under his arms and swing his good one up over Xander’s shoulder. It didn’t prevent him from noticing the flinch Xander gave as his weight settled down across the slightly taller frame.
The demon face he’d been shaking off surged forward. ‘Fucking Bastard, the kid’s taken a kicking again.’
“Spike, you’re scaring me. You promised no biting.”
“Sorry pet, just helps with the pain,” Spike lied. He knew the boy wouldn’t want it brought up.
“Oh, okay.”
“Pet? Why have you got leaves in your hair?” Spike asked as Xander lowered him onto the bed.
“I do? Thought I got them all. I had to crawl into some bushes, there were a couple of minions lurking about outside.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Xander, why did you stay around? They might have noticed you.” Spike was angry at the chance Xander had taken. “I can’t bloody do anything to stop them if they catch you.”
“Shhh Spike, it's okay, they didn’t even see me.” Xander petted the upset vampire.
Spike calmed down. “They didn’t? Bloody lousy minions Angelus has these days.”
“Yep,” said Xander as he chuckled over his pencil thoughts afterwards.
“Pet.” Spike's serious tone caught Xander's attention.
“You think you can set this? Don’t want it healing crooked.”
“But… we don’t have anything for the pain, I might hurt you.” The concern in Xander voice warmed Spike. It had been a long time since any one had really bothered about hurting him.
“S’all right, better now than to have to re-break it later,” Spike crooned, trying to calm the boy.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m not much good at stuff like this,” Xander muttered.
“Stop it.” Xander jerked at the cross tone in Spike's voice.
“You’ll do fine and stop putting yourself down all the time. You are better at things than you can believe. No bloody self-confidence, that’s your problem.”
-----------------------------------------------
Spike was panting and shaking by the time they had set his arm. He’d bitten clean through the pillow in his mouth, and Xander was sweating, the muscles in his arms sore from the continued pull and push of manipulation.
Trying to lighten the situation Xander quipped, “Does it taste like marshmallow?”
Spike chuckled weakly and replied, “Not bloody likely, I’ve feathers in me fangs now!”
Xander looked at Spike. He was so pale now as to be almost translucent, not his usual marble white.
“You gonna be okay, Spike? I mean, can you get some blood from somewhere?”
“I’ll be okay, someone will bring some round eventually.” Spike tried to sound dismissive, but the toll from another beating on top of his already injured body made the reply land just that little bit this side of convincing.
Xander walked over to the bathroom and washed his hands. Thinking to himself, ‘God, he looks so pale. Looks like he could dust at just the thought of a stake.’
Walking back out, he studied Spike. So small, lost in the huge old bed with its dark wood and musty blood covered sheets.
Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, he continued to study Spike.
God, why was the boy looking at him so intently? Felt like every layer Spike had constructed around himself over the years was being scraped away, leaving rawness behind.
“What?” Spike snapped uncomfortably.
“Can you… can you just take a bit?” Xander paused. “I mean not drain me?”
Amazement welled up in Spike; the boy was offering his blood. “Course I can, not some bloody minion, am I?”
Xander cringed at Spike's tone and dropped his head to study his hands.
“Sorry.”
Spike felt worse than dog shit, here was the boy offering his blood and all he did was make him feel bad.
“Shhh, it’s not like that, sorry.” Spike reached for Xander and pulled him closer, feeling the boy stiffen then relax in his grasp. Stroking his hair, he let the boy calm.
“Not on the neck though; Buffy or someone might see it. You can do it elsewhere, can’t you?”
“Sure; inside of the upper arm is best if you need to keep it hidden. Are you sure?”
A shaky but audible, “Yes.”
Mindful of his broken arm, he pulled the boy on to his lap, tucking him under his bad shoulder.
“Won’t hurt you pet, promise.” Spike thought for a moment, maybe it’d be best to warn the boy, didn’t want him getting spooked.
“Pet.” At Spike's serious tone, Xander looked up into his face.
“You might get a little excited when I do this, it happens sometimes. It’s just the bite, okay?”
“Excited?”
“Yeah, hard, I probably will too.”
“Oh.” Xander stiffened, panic surging through him. ‘NO, NO, Spike couldn’t want that, it hurt, every time, it hurt.’
Spike growled low in his chest, Xander’s heartbeat pounding in his ears, the fear smell so strong he was fighting to keep his demon under control. ‘Fucking hell, rape?’ Keeping his tone light, he hurried on.
“Normally it’s used for seducing prey, but nothing will happen. I promise, okay? Won’t touch you, promise.”
Xander nodded slightly; biting his lip, he dropped his eyes back to his lap.
Lifting Xander's left arm, he pulled up the sleeve and started to lave the soft part of the inside, numbing and bringing the endorphins out to play. Xander watched through slitted eyes and whimpered as he started to harden, his other hand clenching and relaxing with nerves.
The fangs slipped in like a hot knife into butter. The first draw of blood was sweet and chocolaty, filled with life and strength and, yes, friendship and kindness.
Spike moaned; it had been so long. He started to feel himself harden and without removing his fangs, twisted Xander away so he wouldn’t feel it. ‘Don’t want to scar the kid any more than can be helped,’ he justified it to himself. ‘Might not offer again, else.’ ‘Fucking hard enough life anyway, won’t make it worse.’
Listening for the tell tale trip in the boy's heartbeat that meant enough, he withdrew, licking over the holes to seal them.
Xander came down off the high, shaking slightly. He started to pull away.
“Wait.” Spike looked uncomfortable for a second, then said, “Look, I can give you something... won’t protect you from Angelus, could make him even madder if he ever gets hold of you, but it'll stop the minions, anyone’s minions.”
Biting down on his thumb, he offered it to Xander.
“Puts a kind of tracer in your blood, says you belong to me. Master Vamp an' all that, they shouldn’t mess with you.”
“Buffy won’t be able to tell?”
“Nope, it just comes out in your scent a little.”
Xander looked dubiously at Spike's thumb.
“Look, you don’t have to take it, I just thought…” Spike trailed off as Xander’s warm hand wrapped around his and he slid the blood covered thumb into his mouth. The tentative licking and soft sucking tightened the already restricted movement in his jeans. Barely holding back a gasp, Spike ducked behind Xander’s shoulder. ‘Will not scare the boy,’ he thought as his demon rushed forward.
The warm hand on his ridges, petting, brought him back.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Didn’t hurt,” Spike ground out.
“Oh.” Xander's eyes were wide, making him look like one of the characters from a manga cartoon.
The boy’s slow crawl off his lap didn't help.
“Thank you Xander.” Spike let his true feeling of gratitude show for just a second.
Xander beamed as he walked over to the window.
“Come back soon, okay? We haven’t had much chance to talk today.”
Xander smiled. “Okay, when I can. The others, they’re starting to wonder where I’m going to. May have to patrol for a day or two, but I’ll be back.”
Xander removed the board, checking and slipping out into the night with a last final wave through the window before putting the board back in place.
Spike lay there, smiling with a raging hard on.
Author: tempestsreach
Chapter: 4-6/20+
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Adult
Feedback: Love it!
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the characters, etc.
Warnings/Squicks: Rape, non-con S/Aus, illusions to child abuse, M/M
Summary: Spike and Xander, with life not easy for either, the two bumpy paths cross and lead to an unlikely friendship and more.
Notes: Set in season two during the Angelus phase.
Notes 2: Thanks once again to my fantastic and ever hard working beta sublimatedangel and to 50ftqueenie for the making the process smoother and all the support.
Links to previous parts:
Chapters 1-3
Chapter Four
Xander had meant to go home and start copying the notes for History but on the way home he’d gotten distracted.
So now he found himself in possession of five pints of cow’s blood courtesy of the late night opening butchers - ‘Only in Sunnydale!’ - and the vague notion to visit a sick vamp.
“This is so fucking stupid,” Xander said to himself as he walked quietly into his house and upstairs to drop off his books.
“Can’t go for a bit anyway. Too early, the others will be about.” So Xander lay down on his bed to try and work out what! the hell he was doing.
Empathy! That could only be the reason, although how he could be empathising with a blood sucking fiend was beyond all reason.
“Reasonless man, that is me,” he intoned to himself.
Getting up, he checked the clock on his night stand. 7:30pm. Okay, time to rumble!
In hindsight, walking through the streets of Sunnydale with five pints of blood in a backpack and eight in his body perhaps wasn’t the wisest of plans, but the ‘Harris luck’ wasn’t in evidence and he’d made it safely to the warehouse.
Stake once again firmly in hand he crept around the back and up to Spike’s window.
The room being pitch black meant Xander couldn’t see anything within.
Fumbling with the board once more, he slipped into the darkened room and pulled the emergency candles from his backpack. Lighting one, he placed it on the floor by the window and turned to look at the bed.
“Well, if it isn’t one of the slayer's minions, playing White Knight to the Big Bad.”
Xander bolted, grabbed his rucksack and had one hand on the windowsill. ‘Spike awake, SPIKE AWAKE!’
“Wait… Please.” It was the ‘please’ that got Xander. He didn’t think Spike said ‘please’ to many people especially not a useless human boy and Xander didn’t get many pleases in his life.
The vampire had wilted. Spike just sat there looking alone and apprehensive.
“Why?” was the only word Spike could get out when Xander remained in the room without speaking.
Nobody did anything for free. In his book, it was dog eat dog in the world and Spike was usually one of the biggest, meanest dogs around. ‘Except I’m not, I’m banged up and fuckin’ useless.’ The recent beating by Angelus and his subsequent submission to ‘fuckin’ Master’ stung.
He watched as the huge brown eyes of the boy crept over him up to his face and looked in his eyes; trying to read his soul, if he’d had one, was what it felt like.
“n..n..NOBODY should be hurt like that!”
Spike snarled, demon face racing to the front. ‘He’s seen!’ Leaning forward, he snarled, “You tell anyone, boy? I'll fucking gut you like an overripe fruit.”
Xander shook, edging back once again.
“N..n..no,” he whispered. “Never.”
The quiet words reached Spike faster than any loud extended protestations would have done and he calmed. Demon still to the fore, but now able to plan his words.
“You fed me your blood?” Xander nodded. “Tells a lot, blood,” Spike commented.
The boy’s wide eyes held no guile and Spike started to feel a little uncomfortable; he knew he was scaring the boy, but after feeling so helpless for so long it stroked the demon's ego, made it purr.
“Come closer,” Spike asked.
“Not 'til you promise not to eat me.”
Spike leered. “Oh, you're no fun, pet.” A strange look with the demon to the fore.
Xander blushed a deep red when he finally realised the intent behind that statement.
“You... You... Ummm... No...” Xander stumbled over the several sentences that wanted to escape his mouth all at once.
Pushing his demon back, Spike tried to ease the situation. “Just teasing, pet. You go a lovely colour when you blush.”
Xander gathered himself. “Look I just brought you something, okay? So I’m gonna give it to you, then leave.”
Quickly opening his rucksack, he pulled out the first packet of blood and tossed it onto the bed. Making sure to keep as far from Spike as possible, he threw the remaining four in quick succession.
“What’s this, pet?”
“Look... I know you can’t hunt at the moment and I know once you can, it’ll be fine and I’m probably gonna be the first one on the menu, but I thought it might help you get…” Xander drifted off into silence. “Yeah, stupid idea. Stupid Xander, sorry.”
Spike gazed at the boy in amazement. He’d brought blood for him! Admittedly cow’s blood by the looks of it, but blood never the less. Still he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “If you come over here, I could have it from the tap, so as to speak.” A sly grin followed.
“NO.. very much of the no-ness there.” Xander backed further away, panicking.
“Sorry, pet.” Spike sighed and looked at the packages on the bed in front of him. Vulnerability flashed across his face for a moment. “These are good, okay, just..” he trailed off.
“WHAT?!” Xander the ever present feeling of being useless bubbling up, spoke louder than planned; they both stilled and glanced at the door.
Silence; both eyes fixed to see if they had been heard.
Spike cocked his head, using all his senses to work out if Angelus was even in the warehouse. The boy’s heartbeat pounded as the minutes swept on.
“I don’t think he’s even here; must be out with the others. Dru too, seems pretty dead like.”
Xander's drop in heart rate signalled a decrease in the tension in the room.
“O..Okay.”
“I need to go.” Xander said after a moment, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.
Spike looked at the boy, really looked. The bloody awful clothes hid a slight but well formed musculature, hair a dark chestnut brown and eyes that seemed to show every thought and feeling a hundred fold.
“Pet, if I drink these real quick like, can .. can you take the packages with you? Nowhere to hide them, see?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, should have thought of that.”
Xander glanced at his watch. “Okay, but hurry. I need to get back, my curfews earlier on a week night.” Not that his parents ever really noticed if he was there or not unless it was to vent their anger on.
“Mummy and daddy gonna worry if you're not in?!” Spike snorted.
“Yeah, something like that,” Xander muttered in reply, not looking up.
With that comment, the smell of fear, ever present since Xander had entered his bedroom, peaked then dipped off. Spike pondered this as he hastily drank the blood, grimacing at the taste of cold cow’s blood.
“Yuck, fucking disgusting that,” he spat out, as he threw the last empty at the boy.
“It’s all I could get, sorry.”
“S’all right, pet. Just nasty is all. You off then?” Spike pasted an air of disinterest over the words.
Xander glanced at his watch again. “Shit, yes,” he replied as he scrabbled to close the rucksack at his feet.
Turning, he checked to see if the coast was clear outside the window and tossed the rucksack out, bracing himself to follow.
“Boy? What’s yer name?”
Xander paused and whispered back over his shoulder, “Xander.”
Blue and brown met and Spike spoke without really thinking. “If you come back, I promise not to eat you.”
Xander smiled and disappeared, the board back in place. Spike followed the sounds of his departure as far as his senses would allow until he was left in the darkness, a single candle dipping and flickering his only proof of the visit.
Chapter Five
Xander winced as someone bumped into his back in the hallway. He’d gotten in late last night and his dad had caught him. Luckily, he’d been too drunk to do more that toss him to the floor and lay in a few well placed kicks before staggering off to find his wife passed out in front of the T.V, opening another beer, and joining her in drunken slumber.
It had been two weeks since the first time he had stopped and helped Spike. He tried to visit the vampire every couple of days and he was amazed at how well they got on.
Xander almost felt comfortable in his presence. He didn’t need to put up his goofy front and they talked about all sorts of stuff.
Places Spike had been, what he had seen, just never the people. Xander didn’t really want to know the carnage Spike had caused. After one little incident where Spike had got a bit too into the story and Xander had gone green and left quickly, Spike seemed to get that.
Now out of bed, but still in the wheelchair, Spike often came to the window when Xander knocked quietly and took the rucksack before moving back to allow Xander to enter.
Last night they had talked about Thailand and the Silk Road and the battles of early history; the conversation carrying on into the night, hence his late arrival back home.
Xander smiled to himself. ‘For a bloodthirsty fiend, Spike is good company.’ The small part of his brain that meant hyena to him rumbled a purring reply of contentment; the solider just whispered words of caution about betrayal and not letting his guard down. Xander pushed him firmly back into the distance, shutting him up.
Suddenly pushed against the locker beside him, Xander winced as the padlock pressed into his sore ribs.
“Hi Xander,” Buffy grated out with false cheerfulness. “Where you been? You haven’t made patrol in awhile.”
Slightly shocked by the firmness of Buffy’s shove, Xander panicked slightly. “Umm… Buff... less of the slayer strength pushin’ and shovin’... only human here, remember?!”
“Where’ve you been?” she replied, not easing up.
“Buffy, you're hurting Xander, let him go,” Willow spoke up, hugging her next class books, looking uncomfortable.
Buffy released Xander reluctantly, still pushing her body into his personal space.
“Xander, we were worried about you,” Willow continued. “You haven’t been around in the last few weeks and we missed you.”
Saved from answering by the bell, Xander relaxed as they moved off to class. Willow still looked worried, but her mind had obviously drifted on to other things, like the math he hadn’t studied for homework.
Xander moaned, “Crap,” looking down at the test paper in front of him. ‘Another spectacular Xanman failure coming up!’
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Slipping away after the last class, losing himself in the push and shove of the crowd exiting the high school steps, Xander watched as his best friend and Buffy wandered off chatting about anything and nothing.
Mentally pulling himself together, he walked off, heading home. Pausing along the way to pet Mrs Troutman’s Pekinese and to help the old lady up her porch with the large bags she was struggling with, coming away with six home baked chocolate chip cookies and an offer of yard work for cash if he wanted some.
Munching happily on one of the cookies, he entered his street and paused to survey his house. No car. ‘Guess dad’s out for the day.’ Walking more confidently up to the porch, he pushed open the door. His mother lay on the sofa, not opening her eyes as she spoke.
“Alexander?”
“Yes Mom?” Sometimes Xander wondered if she really knew who he was or if it was just good guess work.
“Mommy’s feeling poorly today, so you need to be quiet.”
Xander winced. She rarely hit him these days, and it did little but sting when she did, but those words had followed him through childhood. Even at age five and six, they were enough to calm him even at his most hyperactive.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll be good.” He slipped quietly upstairs and sat on his bed. Pulling out his hidden teddy - ‘cause big boys don’t need toys’ - he rested his head on its soft almost plush-less ears.
Xander rarely felt sorry for himself; nobody cared, so it didn’t do a lot of good. You just got on with life, coping with whatever it threw at you and moving on, hoping one day you’d be free. Live in a nice house, never having to worry about who was around and what mood they were in.
Shrugging, he pulled his thoughts away from the pipe dreams and considered Spike. What was the attraction? You couldn’t say they were really friends; the vamp talked to him, sure, and they laughed together, Spike’s dry British humour complimenting his own natural wit. But there was always that inequality; humans were food to vamps, pets at most; Spike had tried to explain a bit about how vampire hierarchy worked.
“See pet, the thing is... I might not like it and never willingly admit it, but he owns me. Made me, trained me, owns me.”
“But nobody should own anybody.” Xander had replied in his naivety.
Spike had sighed and thought for a moment.
“Your folks,” he said, hesitating a bit, not wanting to upset the boy, so carefully wording the sentence as a statement not a question. “They're not the best in the world.”
At Xander's brief nod, more than he had admitted to anyone, ever, Spike continued.
“Yet you stay? Put up with it? Cos it's family and you aren’t old enough or big enough to stop it. It’s kinda like that.”
Xander had been confused. “But you’re strong, big enough, old enough to look after yourself.” And after a pause, “Family?”
They had spent an hour talking and by the end Xander had kinda gotten it; the hyena helped, pushing thoughts of pack and what it meant forward, pecking orders and alphas.
The sound of a car grinding its way unhealthily over the gravel in the front of the house pulled him from his reverie. The front door pulled from the frame, sticking the few vital seconds so that the door handle hit the wall.
“Fucking home, woman, where’s my dinner?” Surly tones made lethargic and coarse by alcohol.
Xander shut out the sounds of his mother crying out and the fighting below.
Rubbing the soft head of his teddy, he decided. ‘Spike, I'll go see him again. I know I only saw him yesterday, but I don’t think he’ll mind.’
Chapter six
The melancholy mood of earlier lifted and Xander was once again creeping round the warehouse in the dark, questioning his sanity.
“Thaw thomething round here Ralf, I know I did.”
“You and your imagination are gonna get us thaked, Ted, nextht you’ll be telling me you think it’th the Thlayer.”
The two minions lisped around their fangs as Xander crouched in the bushes a couple of feet from Spike's window. ‘I’m small, you can’t see me,’ repeating wildly in his brain as he hoped that for once in his life the mantra worked.
“DON’T thay things like that Ralf, 'th'not nithe, thcaring me tho.
“Thut up, will you? Can't hear a damn thing with you blathering on.”
The voices faded into the distance. ‘Angelus isn't turning the sharpest pencils in the box.’ The thought of mixing vampires and a saying about pencils had Xander chuckling very quietly to himself, crawling out of the bushes and brushing himself off.
A glance through the boards to check that Spike was alone revealed the wheelchair but no Spike.
“Man, where is he?” Xander breathed whilst shifting from foot to foot, debating the logic of going in if Spike was absent. Deciding in was more healthy than out, he removed the board, slipped in and, with some jiggling, managed to prop it back in place. He normally didn’t bother, but it was earlier than usual and with the minions wandering about, it seemed prudent.
Sifting through the pockets of his pants, he found the tail end of a candle. Spike had explained that he didn’t need light, really, and it was just another way Angelus could dominate him: keeping him in the dark unless he begged for light, and never supplying more than a few candles at a time.
Rolling the flint with his thumb a couple of times to get his lighter to catch, he lit the candle and looked around. He’d never been here without Spike in the room.
“Xander, that you, pet?” A wet sounding voice drifted from beyond the far side of the bed.
“Spike?” Xander shot round the far side of the bed and jolted to a halt.
Laying on the floor, face bruised and lip split and with what looked like a broken arm, was Spike.
“Fuck!” The expletive burst from Xander’s mouth before he could stop it.
“That about sums it up, pet.” Spike looked down at himself “Don’t suppose you could give me a hand up on to the bed?”
Spike wasn’t sure the boy would. In all their talks, even coming through the window, Xander wouldn’t get close to him, waiting 'til he rolled out the way before coming in. Trust was being built, but slowly.
Xander's eyes widened. ‘Pick him up!’...‘Don't get close to him!’ The fear scent doubled in the room and Spike sighed.
“S’all right pet, I know you don’t trust me yet, no reason to. Don’t suppose you’ve any blood on you?”
“Sorry Spike, I don’t. I couldn’t afford to get any at the moment anyway.”
“Fuck,” snarled Spike, the pain in his arm throbbing and teasing away, bringing his demon to the front.
Xander stood blinking, hyena stirring. ‘Won’t hurt us, trust him.’ Even the solider softened with a ‘Damaged comrade.' It was Xander, though, who thought back over the nights of talking and stories.
Decision made, he moved forward.
“You bite me, Blondie, and there will be no more blood deliveries for you!” he joked to cover his nervousness.
Spike, shocked momentarily into silence, allowed the warm hands to slide under his arms and swing his good one up over Xander’s shoulder. It didn’t prevent him from noticing the flinch Xander gave as his weight settled down across the slightly taller frame.
The demon face he’d been shaking off surged forward. ‘Fucking Bastard, the kid’s taken a kicking again.’
“Spike, you’re scaring me. You promised no biting.”
“Sorry pet, just helps with the pain,” Spike lied. He knew the boy wouldn’t want it brought up.
“Oh, okay.”
“Pet? Why have you got leaves in your hair?” Spike asked as Xander lowered him onto the bed.
“I do? Thought I got them all. I had to crawl into some bushes, there were a couple of minions lurking about outside.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Xander, why did you stay around? They might have noticed you.” Spike was angry at the chance Xander had taken. “I can’t bloody do anything to stop them if they catch you.”
“Shhh Spike, it's okay, they didn’t even see me.” Xander petted the upset vampire.
Spike calmed down. “They didn’t? Bloody lousy minions Angelus has these days.”
“Yep,” said Xander as he chuckled over his pencil thoughts afterwards.
“Pet.” Spike's serious tone caught Xander's attention.
“You think you can set this? Don’t want it healing crooked.”
“But… we don’t have anything for the pain, I might hurt you.” The concern in Xander voice warmed Spike. It had been a long time since any one had really bothered about hurting him.
“S’all right, better now than to have to re-break it later,” Spike crooned, trying to calm the boy.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m not much good at stuff like this,” Xander muttered.
“Stop it.” Xander jerked at the cross tone in Spike's voice.
“You’ll do fine and stop putting yourself down all the time. You are better at things than you can believe. No bloody self-confidence, that’s your problem.”
-----------------------------------------------
Spike was panting and shaking by the time they had set his arm. He’d bitten clean through the pillow in his mouth, and Xander was sweating, the muscles in his arms sore from the continued pull and push of manipulation.
Trying to lighten the situation Xander quipped, “Does it taste like marshmallow?”
Spike chuckled weakly and replied, “Not bloody likely, I’ve feathers in me fangs now!”
Xander looked at Spike. He was so pale now as to be almost translucent, not his usual marble white.
“You gonna be okay, Spike? I mean, can you get some blood from somewhere?”
“I’ll be okay, someone will bring some round eventually.” Spike tried to sound dismissive, but the toll from another beating on top of his already injured body made the reply land just that little bit this side of convincing.
Xander walked over to the bathroom and washed his hands. Thinking to himself, ‘God, he looks so pale. Looks like he could dust at just the thought of a stake.’
Walking back out, he studied Spike. So small, lost in the huge old bed with its dark wood and musty blood covered sheets.
Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, he continued to study Spike.
God, why was the boy looking at him so intently? Felt like every layer Spike had constructed around himself over the years was being scraped away, leaving rawness behind.
“What?” Spike snapped uncomfortably.
“Can you… can you just take a bit?” Xander paused. “I mean not drain me?”
Amazement welled up in Spike; the boy was offering his blood. “Course I can, not some bloody minion, am I?”
Xander cringed at Spike's tone and dropped his head to study his hands.
“Sorry.”
Spike felt worse than dog shit, here was the boy offering his blood and all he did was make him feel bad.
“Shhh, it’s not like that, sorry.” Spike reached for Xander and pulled him closer, feeling the boy stiffen then relax in his grasp. Stroking his hair, he let the boy calm.
“Not on the neck though; Buffy or someone might see it. You can do it elsewhere, can’t you?”
“Sure; inside of the upper arm is best if you need to keep it hidden. Are you sure?”
A shaky but audible, “Yes.”
Mindful of his broken arm, he pulled the boy on to his lap, tucking him under his bad shoulder.
“Won’t hurt you pet, promise.” Spike thought for a moment, maybe it’d be best to warn the boy, didn’t want him getting spooked.
“Pet.” At Spike's serious tone, Xander looked up into his face.
“You might get a little excited when I do this, it happens sometimes. It’s just the bite, okay?”
“Excited?”
“Yeah, hard, I probably will too.”
“Oh.” Xander stiffened, panic surging through him. ‘NO, NO, Spike couldn’t want that, it hurt, every time, it hurt.’
Spike growled low in his chest, Xander’s heartbeat pounding in his ears, the fear smell so strong he was fighting to keep his demon under control. ‘Fucking hell, rape?’ Keeping his tone light, he hurried on.
“Normally it’s used for seducing prey, but nothing will happen. I promise, okay? Won’t touch you, promise.”
Xander nodded slightly; biting his lip, he dropped his eyes back to his lap.
Lifting Xander's left arm, he pulled up the sleeve and started to lave the soft part of the inside, numbing and bringing the endorphins out to play. Xander watched through slitted eyes and whimpered as he started to harden, his other hand clenching and relaxing with nerves.
The fangs slipped in like a hot knife into butter. The first draw of blood was sweet and chocolaty, filled with life and strength and, yes, friendship and kindness.
Spike moaned; it had been so long. He started to feel himself harden and without removing his fangs, twisted Xander away so he wouldn’t feel it. ‘Don’t want to scar the kid any more than can be helped,’ he justified it to himself. ‘Might not offer again, else.’ ‘Fucking hard enough life anyway, won’t make it worse.’
Listening for the tell tale trip in the boy's heartbeat that meant enough, he withdrew, licking over the holes to seal them.
Xander came down off the high, shaking slightly. He started to pull away.
“Wait.” Spike looked uncomfortable for a second, then said, “Look, I can give you something... won’t protect you from Angelus, could make him even madder if he ever gets hold of you, but it'll stop the minions, anyone’s minions.”
Biting down on his thumb, he offered it to Xander.
“Puts a kind of tracer in your blood, says you belong to me. Master Vamp an' all that, they shouldn’t mess with you.”
“Buffy won’t be able to tell?”
“Nope, it just comes out in your scent a little.”
Xander looked dubiously at Spike's thumb.
“Look, you don’t have to take it, I just thought…” Spike trailed off as Xander’s warm hand wrapped around his and he slid the blood covered thumb into his mouth. The tentative licking and soft sucking tightened the already restricted movement in his jeans. Barely holding back a gasp, Spike ducked behind Xander’s shoulder. ‘Will not scare the boy,’ he thought as his demon rushed forward.
The warm hand on his ridges, petting, brought him back.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Didn’t hurt,” Spike ground out.
“Oh.” Xander's eyes were wide, making him look like one of the characters from a manga cartoon.
The boy’s slow crawl off his lap didn't help.
“Thank you Xander.” Spike let his true feeling of gratitude show for just a second.
Xander beamed as he walked over to the window.
“Come back soon, okay? We haven’t had much chance to talk today.”
Xander smiled. “Okay, when I can. The others, they’re starting to wonder where I’m going to. May have to patrol for a day or two, but I’ll be back.”
Xander removed the board, checking and slipping out into the night with a last final wave through the window before putting the board back in place.
Spike lay there, smiling with a raging hard on.