Bitter Casualties
by
SpikesKat
Part Thirteen
When Spike crashed into Zepheus, Xander was abruptly released and hit the ground with a dull thud. He didn’t look to see if the boy would be okay, he couldn’t look; his sole focus was the demon before him who’d recovered from his attack and was now eyeing him with deadly intent.
Spike just smirked in a manner that said, “Bring it on.” His yellow eyes were blazing with his own righteous fury as the two warily circled one another, both vying for an opening to land a blow.
“I’d think you’d be happy, my opening the Hellmouth. You’re a vampire, a demon like me. We could rule this city… We could rule the entire country,” Zepheus snarled.
“This is my town. My Hellmouth. And I like things just fine the way they are here.”
With lightning-quick reflexes, Spike sprang forward and slashed his claws across the demon’s face, smirking when Zepheus jumped back in surprise, one hand going up to cover the wound.
“Ow. That hurt!”
“It was supposed to, you git,” he sneered. Another lighting-fast move by Spike and Zepheus had a matching set of marks on the other cheek.
Though his opponent was large, Spike had speed on his side; he’d use that to his advantage and stay out of the other’s reach, wear Zepheus down with body shots until he tired.
The only drawback to his plan, though, was the time factor. He needed to end the fight, and quickly, if he wanted any chance at saving Xander. His gaze darted about the room, trying to find something to speed things along, and came across the spell components scattered on a table set up behind the demon.
He feinted in, ducking under Zepheus’ outstretched arms, and raced to the makeshift altar. Animal body parts, roots, and other various magic paraphernalia went flying as Spike swept his arm across the table. He ignored the demon’s bellow of rage as he picked up the spell book and proceeded to tear the pages to shreds. When he was finished, he dropped the hefty volume and chuckled at the confetti at his feet.
If nothing else, he’d averted Zepheus from performing the spell to open the Hellmouth.
“Guess that takes care of that.”
Spike didn’t have long to wait for Zepheus’ reaction. The demon ran towards him, exhibiting a fair bit of speed for someone his size. Spike glanced around, looking for some type of weapon and spied a ceremonial spear leaning against the wall behind him. He palmed the weapon and turned back to confront his opponent, just as Zepheus launched himself over the table. Spike was ready, the spear held aloft with a firm grip. He easily evaded the demon’s outreached arms and as Zepheus flew past, drove the spear tip into his chest – and hopefully his heart – careful to let go so he wouldn’t be dragged forward with the demon’s momentum. He wasn’t quite sure if he hit the mark though, he’d never come across a demon like Zepheus before.
Zepheus crashed to the floor behind him and Spike was on him like a shot.
“That was for Xander,” he growled as he stood over the fallen demon. Then he leaned down and snapped the spear handle in two. He held the stake-like weapon in his hand for a moment before driving it through the demon’s eye, killing him instantly. “And that’s for me. You picked the wrong town and the wrong boy to mess with.”
Rather than gloat over his victory, however, Spike turned away and headed towards the two sets of twins shackled in the corner. His human mask was once more in place.
“Gimme a minute to check on my friend and I’ll see about getting you free,” he told them, and was thankful to hear an abrupt end to their crying spell.
Though, with the sudden silence, the faint beating of Xander’s heart was like a death knell.
“Xander!” he shouted and was beside the boy in an instant, carefully cradling him against his chest, mindful of the dagger still embedded in his stomach. Blood covered the lower half of Xander’s shirt and was slowly seeping down into his pants, and for the first time in his life, the smell of it sickened Spike.
He rose awkwardly to his feet, with Xander’s body draped over his arms, and nearly slipped in the huge puddle of blood on the floor.
“Oh, pet,” he whispered, horrified… and deathly afraid. “Hang on, love. Spike’s gonna get you to the hospital. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. Just see if they don’t.”
He hurried forward, only to stop at the sight of the four kids still huddled in the corner. He couldn’t leave them there; they were sitting ducks for anything that might get curious about the overpowering smell of blood and decide to search the building.
Cursing his soul and the Powers for making him one of the good guys, he backtracked to the table and gently laid Xander down on top of it, then set about finding a key to the chains. He started with the demon corpse, and for once in his life, luck was on his side as he found the key in Zepheus’ pants pocket. Spike palmed it as he jumped to his feet and rushed to release them.
“Stick close to me, yeah? Gonna take my friend to the hospital and someone there can call your parents.”
“I want my mommy!” one of the girls whined pitifully.
Spike struggled not to roll his eyes – or yell – as he knelt down and spoke softly to the girl.
“’m gonna get your mommy, poppet. But first, I need to take care of my friend. He’s hurt real bad and needs a doctor to get him better.”
“We’ll come with you,” one of the boys said as he latched onto the girl’s hand. “To the hospital… and then you’ll call our parents, right?”
“First thing. Promise.”
At their tentative nods, Spike stood and headed for the
door. For the first time in his life, he prayed, hoping that he’d get to the
hospital before Xander bled out.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike kicked the automatic doors when they wouldn’t open
fast enough, shouting for help and “bloody now!” Something in either his tone or
his expression seemed to convey the seriousness of the situation and doctors and
nurses came running forward. Spike carefully placed Xander on the gurney that
was wheeled forward.
“What happened?”
“What’s it bloody well look like?” Spike snapped, barely controlling the urge to contain his demon. “He’s got a goddamn knife in his gut. Fix him! Now!”
The doctor nodded and began shouting out orders for labs, meds, and other things that went right over Spike’s head.
“You wouldn’t happen to know his blood type, by chance.”
“AB negative.”
“Alright. Thanks. We’ll take it from here.” The doctor bother to ask the man if he was sure, something in the blond’s tone convinced him; he turned away and bellowed for four units of AB negative blood to be brought to Bay 1 immediately as he supervised the stretcher being wheeled through a second set of doors.
The waiting room was eerily quiet in the aftermath of the hospital staffs’ departure. Spike happened to glance down and saw that he was covered in blood, on either side of him were the two twins, looking much the worse for wear. Those lingering about, their expressions wide-eyed and speechless, seemed to think the same.
“Come on. Let’s get you settled so I can have someone call your parents,” Spike told them and ushered the four to an area clearly designated for children – given the much smaller seats and the few toys scattered about on the nearby tables.
He didn’t bother to ask their names; all he had to do was mention to someone that he’d found the missing twins and that they were in the ER waiting room; the cops and the parents would come running.
“Are you guys hungry?” Four heads nodded mutely. “Okay. I’ll see if I can scrounge up some snacks then. Back in a jiffy. Don’t move…. And don’t talk to anyone. Got it?” Again four heads nodded in reply.
Spike stalked off to the registration desk and got there just as the nurse hung up the phone.
“Look… The kids I got with me… they’re the one’s that’s missing. Can you… uh… call the cops or something? ‘m sure their parents will be glad to have them back. Oh, and they’re hungry. Can you get ‘em some snacks or something?”
“Sure, Mr. umm…”
“William.”
“Sure, Mr. William.”
“No. Just William.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. William,” she stammered. “How… that is… where…?”
“The guy I brought in a minute ago found them, I reckon, and got stabbed for his trouble. I found him on the street a few blocks over. I think he was trying to get here. The poor sap just couldn’t make it though. I took it upon myself to bring him in and see that the niblets got reunited with their families.”
“Oh… I say. That’s very brave of you.”
Spike shrugged. “Anybody woulda’ done it. Just happened to be at the right place at the right time. So… You gonna call?” Spike nodded towards the phone.
“Yes. Yes, of course. And, if you want to take the children to the cafeteria, I’ll call ahead and tell them that you’re coming. Just have the children pick out whatever they feel like eating.”
Spike heaved a sigh at having been relegated to the task of babysitter, but didn’t argue with the woman. Truthfully, he didn’t think that the four would go with anyone else except him. Besides which, he needed to talk to the kids, tell them to speak as little as possible about who – or what – had kidnapped them. He turned away as the woman started dialing and rejoined the twins waiting quietly in the corner.
“Come on, kids. Let’s go get something to eat. They’re
calling the cops and your parents should be here shortly.”
~*~*~*~*~
“So, who saved you?” Spike asked again.
“Xander did,” they all shouted at the same time.
“And who happened along and saved Xander?”
“William did.”
“Good. You all just stick with that story, yeah?”
Four heads nodded obediently, and Spike smothered a grin. The four were too cute by half.
“Now, eat up. Your parents are probably on their way.”
Ten minutes later, there were frantic cries from two sets of parents, and what sounded like a herd of elephants racing down the hallway.
“Cavalry’s arrived,” he muttered under his breath, just before the door burst open and the place was flooded with cops and openly weeping humans.
Shouts of “Mommy!” and “Daddy!” mixed with cries of “Oh, thank god!” and Spike stood up from the table and stepped back out of the way, hands held up in a gesture of surrender as the group swarmed the table they were sitting at.
“Xander saved us,” one of the girls piped up as she was lifted into her father’s arms. “And William saved Xander,” her twin finished, pointing at Spike. “That’s William.”
The cops stopped giving him the evil eye – which Spike had found rather amusing – and relaxed their stances. One even walked forward and held out his hand.
“You must be William,” the cop announced somewhat drolly as they shook hands. “Who’s Xander?”
“Guy that took one in the gut rescuing these kids apparently. He’s in the ER right now.”
Which was where Spike wanted to be himself.
“Do you know what happened?”
Spike shook his head. “No. Happened along these cuties a few blocks away from here. The guy was hurt in a bad way… lost a lot of blood.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But, I’m glad you were there. It’s a pretty heroic thing you did.”
“Nah… That boy down the way is the real hero. Saved these kids and gave those parents a happy ending.”
“Yeah,” the cop commiserated. Normally, the missing person’s bodies were found several weeks later, dumped in a ditch. And he’d have to be the one to inform the families of their loss.
“Well, anyway. We appreciate what you did. I’m sure the Smiths and Thompsons do as well.”
The cop turned to watch the family reunion taking place, and Spike took the opportunity to slip away and out of the limelight. He needed to get back to Xander.
As he walked down the hall, he pulled out his cell phone and called Cordelia. Their conversation was short and to the point.
“I’m on my way,” she announced once he finished his brief explanation.
Cordelia hung up, amid his protests for her to stay in bed and rest.
“Stubborn bint,” he grumbled as he slipped the phone back in his pocket.
Though, truthfully, he was glad she was coming. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do if the boy didn’t make it. Already he could feel the black pit of despair looming in the distance, threatening to engulf him, much like it had when his sire died.
Part Fourteen
As soon as Cordelia arrived, she and Spike disappeared to one of the waiting rooms in another wing of the hospital. Spike had given the impression to the hospital staff that he was just a passerby and had lucked upon Xander in the streets. To sit around in the ER waiting room waiting for word would throw that assumption right out the window… and force him to answer questions he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – answer.
They spent the next several hours alternately pacing or sitting quietly, their hands clasped tightly together, reluctant to venture forth and ask someone about Xander’s condition; they didn’t try to find Xander in one of the hospital rooms either, knowing that he his injury was extensive enough to warrant surgery that in all likelihood could last for several hours.
“You want to talk about it?” Cordelia asked after Spike sat down from his latest round of pacing.
“No…”
“’cuz you can, you know. Talk to me. If you want…”
“Leave it alone, Cordy.”
“I’m just saying. This is me, doing the supportive friend thing.”
Spike growled.
The room got quiet.
“Is it because he’s a guy?” Cordelia asked out of the blue several minutes later. “Xander, I mean.”
“Cordy…”
“Because there’s nothing wrong with it,” she hastened to add. “Being gay I mean.”
“’m. Not. Gay.”
Cordelia laughed at Spike’s abrupt manner. “If you’re screwing Xander, or want to screw Xander, you’re gay. You’re a guy. He’s a guy. Hence, gay.”
“Pet, ‘m a vampire,” he replied, his exasperation evident. “We’ll screw anything on two legs. Doesn’t make us gay, so much as omnisexual. Besides, we don’t think in terms like that. Being gay’s a human distinction.”
“Pfft. Whatever.” She laid her head against his shoulder; she was tired and he made a halfway decent pillow. “So, you and Xander?”
“There is no me and Xander.” Spike forced himself not to bite his friend’s head off. He loved the girl like one of his own, but she could be a dog with a bloody bone sometimes.
“But there could be?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Would you just drop it already?” he sighed.
“Angel’s dead. He would want you to—”
“I said drop it, Cordelia!” Spike snarled; he jumped to his feet, displacing Cordelia in the process, and stormed out of the waiting room.
“He’d want you to get on with your life, Spike,” she whispered quietly to his retreating back. “Angel wouldn’t begrudge you your happiness.”
Though she spoke softly, Cordelia was pretty sure Spike could still hear her. What mattered though was whether or not he’d actually listen to her; the vamp wasn’t one to heed her advice. Time passed – an hour, and then two – without a sign of Spike, and Cordelia sighed and stood, stretching the kinks out of her weary body.
Her and her big mouth. She really hoped she hadn’t driven Spike away from the hospital.
After ten years, she should have known not to broach the subject of Angel. Nothing sent Spike flying off the handle quicker than bringing up his sire’s name. But the vibes Spike had been giving off since Xander’s sudden presence in Phoenix were like nothing she’d ever seen before. He’d been snarky to the extreme, a complete one-eighty to the way he normally behaved. Spike spending the last few days almost exclusively with Xander was the most telling.
Growing restless, Cordelia left the waiting room and started wandering the hospital. It was pure chance that she happened upon a couple of nurses discussing Xander several minutes later, and she loitered in the hallway to glean details of his condition.
She got one better – a room number.
She did a quick scan of the hallway and spotted Xander’s room behind her, and she walked backwards the way she came, so she could keep her eyes on the nurse’s desk.
Inside the room, Cordelia gasped at Xander’s condition. The patch was gone, which took away from his rakish air. His hair was combed back from his face, accentuating how pale he really was. The drab hospital gown he wore did nothing to hide the healing bite marks on his neck. She gasped upon seeing them, knowing what they meant.
Spike had marked Xander as his.
It didn’t make any sense. Why then was Spike putting up such a stink about being with Xander? He obviously took some measure of comfort from Xander’s presence.
Staring down at Xander, she couldn’t help but be surprised by her ex. Xander had been strictly heterosexual when they’d parted ways not long after graduating from high school. She could see him getting past the gender thing – all of his friends were dead, so he didn’t have to worry about what anyone might think – but the vampire thing was another matter. Xander’s feelings about vampires were well known among the gang. He’d nearly alienated Buffy with his hatred for Angel.
Yet he’d allowed Spike to bite him… repeatedly, from the looks of things.
Relatively reassured about Xander’s condition and not wanting to get caught in the room, Cordelia moved forward and gave Xander a quick kiss to the forehead.
“I’ll be back later,” she told him, though he probably didn’t hear her. At the door, she cast one last glance over her shoulder and slipped out of the room, back to the waiting room.
She had a lot to think about, not the least of which was that Xander had lied to her – Xander had done more than just hold Spike when he’d had his spell. At some point, the two had bonded.
It explained a lot, now that she thought about it. Spike was feeling guilty, Xander confused. However, whereas Xander had seemed willing to go with the flow and had actually seemed solicitous of Spike’s welfare, Spike was doing everything in his power to deny the connection they’d made.
But something must have happened recently, because now Xander was just as adamant in his refusal to be anywhere near Spike. With the threat Zepheus posed gone, there was no reason for him to stick around now either.
No reason at all.
~*~*~*~*~
Xander woke with a dull ache in his stomach and annoying
beeps ringing in his ear. He sat up and immediately fell back against the
pillows, groaning. He must have been hurt more seriously than he thought for it
to take so long for him to heal; since merging with his hyena spirit, he’d found
himself recovering much like a slayer would, with the pain of an attack all but
a distant memory the next day. He’d never had cause before to test the limits of
his healing abilities, but put being run through by a dagger on the list of
things not to do again in the immediate future.
The aftermath hurt like a bitch.
“Ah… you’re awake, Mr. Doe,” a nurse commented, intruding on his thoughts. “You gave us all a bit of a scare with the extent of your injuries. But, just between you and me… that was a really brave thing you did.”
“Brave?” he croaked out; his throat was dry and made speaking difficult.
“Saving those kids.”
“Oh…” Xander was careful to mask his confusion.
“Anyway. You just lie back and rest. Let your body heal. You’ve got some IV meds that are masking the worst of your pain and they tend to make you a bit groggy.”
“Yeah… okay…”
Xander closed his eyes and listened as the nurse bustled around the room for a bit. Only when it seemed she was satisfied with whatever she saw, did she finally leave. He waited a few minutes more before attempting to get out of bed. The IV was the first thing to go – he needed his heightened awareness at full capacity – and he yanked it from his arm. He cringed, waiting for an alarm to sound, but nothing happened; the pump continued to work… only it spilled the medicine that should have been going into his arm out onto the floor.
The hospital staff didn’t know his name and that would make it easier for him to disappear relatively unnoticed. He wanted to be gone before someone came and started a round of twenty questions. His type of work, the evil that he constantly dealt with, couldn’t be brought into the light of day. Joe Normal wasn’t ready to hear that there really were monsters lurking about at night.
A quick search of his private room revealed his clothes folded neatly – if still a bit bloody – and tucked away in a bag, and he dressed hurriedly then edged his way towards the door.
The pain medication began wearing off as his body quickly metabolized the foreign fluid in his blood stream and Xander couldn’t help but draw in a breath as the pain of his sustained injuries started to hit him full force. If he didn’t leave soon, he really was going to be confined to bed.
‘Suck it up and get the hell outta here,’ he told himself. Taking a calming breath, he proceeded to do just that.
Xander opened the door a crack and peeked outside. Several nurses were clustered at a desk several feet away chatting amongst themselves. Careful to keep one eye on them and another on his escape route, he eased out of his room and slowly made his way in the opposite direction towards the stairwell. Every step he took hurt, but there was no way in hell he was staying in the hospital.
With Zepheus also apparently taken care of, at least according to the good news from the nurse, and what little he remembered from his – and Spike’s – encounter with the demon, there was no need for him to stay in Phoenix either. His job was done and it was time to move on. A new Big Bad to find and send back to hell, he silently told himself.
He determinedly ignored the voice that called him a coward… as well as some other not-so-nice names. He preferred to think of it as a strategic retreat. Lick his wounds and live to fight another day and all that.
Hailing a cab wasn’t difficult and he had the driver wait while he grabbed his two bags from his motel room; the weapons he’d had with him last night he wrote off as a loss. It took him longer to cash out with the front desk clerk than it did to gather his things. Experience had taught him how to disappear in a hurry.
“Bus station,” he told the driver after he climbed into the back seat again and shut the door.
The cabbie nodded and pulled off without a word.
Xander closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest.
His conscience nagged him for leaving without telling Cordelia goodbye. But he had her address stored in his head and promised himself that as soon as he got to wherever he was going next, he’d sit down and write her a nice, long letter.
“Thanks! Keep the change.”
Xander handed the man a twenty when they arrived at the bus depot. His belongings in hand, he shuffled forward to the ticket booth and bought a one-way ticket to Boston. The pain medication was all but gone from his system and every step he took caused bursts of agonizing pain to shoot up his belly and spread outward.
He’d decided on Boston on the short taxi ride from the motel; he’d never been so far north before and figured the city was as good a place as any to call home for a month. It also had an international airport hub that would make it easy for him to get out of the country in a hurry if needed.
The all aboard sounded and Xander spared one last glance at the Phoenix Hellmouth before he climbed the steps of the bus and hobbled down the aisle all the way to the back row, his bags slung awkwardly over either shoulder. He put as much distance between himself and the smattering of early morning stragglers making the cross-country road trip with him. His stomach really wasn’t feeling too hot and he closed his eyes and attempted to sleep to escape the unending throbbing as the other passengers settled in their own seats.
The engine cranked up, and before long, he felt the bus back out of its parking space and turn onto the road. It slowly gained in speed as it headed out of town.
Xander sighed for what might have been.
The steady drone of the diesel engine eventually coaxed him into a fitful sleep.
Part Fifteen
Two months later…
Xander stepped out of his apartment and trudged through the snow-covered sidewalk to the corner store. Being born and raised in Southern California, snow was something of a novelty for him, which was why he’d made the impulsive decision to spend the rest of the winter season in Boston rather than move on after his allotted month – he couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff. While the locals were bitching and moaning under their breath about the latest storm front headed their way, Xander was eagerly looking forward to the dark clouds looming overhead.
The blizzard promised to be a doozy; the weatherman was predicting nearly two feet of snow, so Xander was off to stock up on supplies for the expected lie-in. It began to flurry on his way to the store and by the time he’d filled his shopping cart and been rung up, the light snowfall had turned into a steady stream of large flakes that began to stick to the snow already covering the ground. He smiled as he walked, ended up chuckling with pleasure when the snow hit his face and melted, leaving tiny wet splotches on his cheeks and forehead.
To the casual observer, he appeared young and carefree, without a care in the world. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
He’d not done much smiling his first month in Boston; it had been a rough four weeks and denial was a place he’d fast become familiar with. Better that than the long, agonizing nights of solitude he’d endured… and continued to endure.
It was one of the reasons it had taken him so long to write Cordelia. Just the thought that Spike might be privy to what he may say had made it difficult to put pen to paper.
But he’d done it, like he promised himself he would. With the Christmas holiday only a few weeks away, Xander figured Cordelia would either have gotten the letter this past week or would be getting it in the next few days or so. He’d been deliberately vague regarding his whereabouts, telling her only that he’d moved on to the next crisis on his figurative list, and that he was sorry for leaving like he had, without so much as a word goodbye. He’d left no return address on the envelope, but had promised to write again… and soon.
Xander walked up his steps and shuffled the bags into one hand so he could fish his keys out of his pocket. As he fitted his key in the slot, his neck began to tingle. He glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Huh... Weird.
Shrugging, he stepped inside and shut the door.
His apartment wasn’t something to write home about, but it was his... at least for the next two months. He’d even done the festive thing and bought a miniature Christmas tree that came with its very own tiny ornaments and set it on the two-seater table in the kitchen.
After he’d put his groceries away, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and took his customary spot on his futon and turned on the television. With nothing but time on his hands, he settled in to watch the Star Trek marathon that was running on the SciFi channel.
The snowstorm continued, and it wasn’t long before he noticed a bite in the air and snuggled beneath the blankets on his makeshift bed. The furnace only seemed to work half the time, which was why he’d gotten the place so cheap – it being smack dab in the heart of the city. He’d not minded though, just bought a few extra blankets to cover his bed; he’d bunked in far less savory places that actually boasted a roof over his head and intermittent heat.
He was into his third episode in as many hours when a terse knock sounded at his front door. His senses went on full alert – especially given that he didn’t know anyone in Boston… and he damn sure wasn’t expecting anyone either.
Figuring that it was probably some religious zealot – he’d been blessed with a few showing up on his doorstep, it being so close to the holidays – Xander didn’t bother to move from his spot. The knocking didn’t let up, however. In fact, if anything, it became more insistent.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and Xander
finally rose and walked to the corner chest that housed his weapons. Whoever was
out there was about to get a rude sendoff.
~*~*~*~*~
“Look, I’m not interested—” Xander began before his door
was even opened. The words died in his throat once he caught sight of his
visitor. “Spike?”
“Invite me in, Harris.”
“What are you doing here? I mean… uh… how did you find me?”
Xander couldn’t believe that Spike was standing on his doorstep – willingly at that.
“Can we talk inside? I’d rather not carry on a conversation on your front doorstep,” Spike sighed. “Please?”
It was the please that made Xander cave and open his home – and possibly his heart – to the vamp getting pelted by snow.
Neither said a word as Spike stepped over the threshold and Xander shut the door. Xander couldn’t help but think that his apartment shrank in size with the vampire there; Spike had a way about him that seemed larger than life.
“Want a beer?” he asked to cover the awkward silence.
“Real beer… or that watered-down piss you drink?”
“What do you think?”
“Watered-down piss.”
The two shared a smile.
“Yeah… alright. Whatever you have is fine.”
By mutual agreement, they settled on either end of the futon. The Star Trek marathon was still playing on the television and Xander stared at the screen, though if asked later, he wouldn’t have been able to say what the episode was about.
His sole focus was on Spike. How he picked at the label of the domestic beer bottle and dropped the pieces of paper on the floor. How he shifted in his seat attempting to get comfortable. How he opened and closed his mouth several times as if to speak.
“I take it Cordy got my letter,” Xander finally asked when he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“She cried,” Spike blurted out. “When she got it. You just disappeared and she thought… we thought… you were gone forever.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well… you’ll have to take it up with her. She was pretty pissed. Still is, if you wanna know the truth.”
“And you?”
The words were out of his mouth before Xander could stop them. He could have kicked himself with how pitiful he sounded.
“Harris, if I would have found you that first month, I would have chained you up and shown you what it means to belong to a vampire.”
Xander’s heart rate kicked up a notch and his dick twitched. Thankfully, Spike didn’t call him on it. Who knew he had a bit of a masochistic streak?
“I don’t belong to you, Spike,” Xander sighed, saw Spike’s jaw clench when he happened to look that way. “You said it yourself… sometimes a fuck is just a fuck. We fucked. No strings. End of story.”
“Do you really believe that, Xander?”
“I wasn’t the one that called out someone else’s name while we were in bed together.”
Damn, I didn’t mean to say that out loud either. His mouth just seemed to have a mind of its own.
“What?”
Unable to sit still any longer, Xander got up and paced the floor. “Look… what does it matter?”
“Xander—”
“No… really. It’s ok. I get it… got it. We’re cool.” He abruptly changed the subject. Inviting Spike in was a bad idea; he’d been so close to closing that particularly brief chapter of his life. Now Spike was here and the hurt that had been a constant ache was back with a vengeance. He needed something else to talk about, and Cordelia and her hurt feelings seemed a safe enough topic. “So… Cordy... how much groveling am I going to have to do? Is she still in Phoenix?”
“I didn’t come here to talk about Cordelia,” Spike growled as he stood as well. “I came here to resolve this thing between us. I thought—”
“Us? There is no us, Spike. You said it yourself—”
“I know what I bloody well said.”
“Then what are we arguing for?” Xander’s voice rose to match Spike’s.
“Because you’re a pig-headed git.”
Xander chuckled mirthlessly.
“I’m a pig-headed git? I’m a pig-headed git?”
“Yes.” Spike ran a hand through is hair in frustration. “I lied, okay? It wasn’t just a fuck. Not sure what it was, but it wasn’t just a fuck. I felt…” Whole, complete, he didn’t say. “But, I could see you starting to freak out that first night and figured it would be best all around not to overanalyze what happened. Blow it off as a one-off. Then it happened again… and you gave yourself to me.”
“No…”
“You bared your throat to me and my demon took that as acceptance,” Spike talked right over Xander’s denial. “And you said yes. So I took, and you gave… and it was bloody well perfect. What little there is left of my soul tried to ignore it after you were gone, figured you were better off not knowing, and as much as the demon hated it, I had to let you go.” Spike finally sat down, his shoulders slumped in dejection. “I can’t be with you, Xander, knowing you’re gonna die some day. You’re the last bit of my past, and I’d turn you before I lost you… and you’d hate me. Just as I’d come to hate the thing that I created. Me and Cordy, we’ve got eternity staring at us in the face. The Powers made sure of that.”
The room was deathly quiet in the aftermath of Spike’s confession. Xander stood there, his jaw nearly scraping the floor.
Spike was worried about him dying? He couldn’t help it, he started laughing.
“Spike, I’ve got a thousand-year-old hyena spirit inside me. I don’t think I’m going to be dying anytime soon,” he laughed.
“What?”
“The eye, the healing abilities, the enhanced senses? That was her making herself at home in my body. I’m probably as immortal as you and Cordelia are, though I won’t be testing that theory with any daggers to my gut anytime soon. It seems I’m not immune to pain. All the surgeons did in that hospital was aide my recovery along.”
“Were… were you ever gonna tell us?” Spike demanded, eyes gone a flinty yellow.
“I did. I told you that first night that I’d merged with the hyena. I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you.”
“Like I’ve seen a lot of demon possessions in my time,” Spike snorted.
“What does this have to do with anything anyway? There’s still the matter of you calling out Angel’s name. I’m not going to be some substitute because you can’t have who you really want.”
“When did I—? Aahh… so that’s why you got shirty. That why you left too?”
Xander nodded stiffly and Spike sighed. “Xander, I was dreaming. I woke up with a hard-on and you stomping off to the bathroom. I never once thought of you as a replacement,” Spike confessed.
“I’m no Buffy, or Angel. I’m just me. Xander. A guy that wore a patch over a perfectly good eye because he felt guilty for getting his friends killed.” He awkwardly gestured to the eye no longer encumbered by the patch. Sometime in the past month, he’d quit punishing himself. His friends would have wanted him to move on with his life, so he had. The last tiny piece of the Zeppo he’d been clinging to was dead and buried.
“Yeah? Well, I doubt I’ve got the soul I worked so hard to get. I still get my rocks off on the hunt – whether it’s human or demon. I scared away Angel’s son by telling him I was going to end up fucking him if he didn’t leave. And if you think that’s bad, I was ready to tear out Cordelia’s heart because you spent time with her, rather than me.”
“Really? Wow! That’s just… Uh, Spike, you do know she’s my ex-girlfriend. Emphasis on the ‘ex’. There was a reason why we broke up. If I remember right, it was your fault… sorta.”
“I never said it was rational. I’m just… I want you to know, I’m not perfect. Never claimed to be. I’m a product of my past. Just like you. I know you’re not Buffy or Angel… or even Drusilla. You’re Xander… you’ve been a bloody thorn in my bloody side for what seems like forever.”
“Just so there’s no misunderstanding.” Xander’s lips twitched.
“Pet, I think we’ve had enough of those to last the next hundred years. Now, can we go to bed? It’s past my bedtime and I’ve barely slept since you left. And this heart-to-heart has plum wore me out.”
Xander watched as Spike began shucking his clothes, letting them fall where they may. He hid a smile as he stepped forward and pulled on the bottom of the futon so that it converted into a bed.
Spike slid beneath the covers and Xander stripped out of his own clothes and climbed in beside him.
“Any chance I can talk you into coming back to Phoenix? Boston’s bloody cold this time of year,” Spike grouched as he cuddled close to Xander.
“I thought you didn’t feel the cold.”
“Harris, there’s bloody snow on the ground.”
“So?” Inside, Xander was silently laughing. Whiney Spike was a funny thing to witness.
“Suppose we could stay here,” Spike mumbled. “Just means we won’t be getting out of bed until the snow thaws.” He plastered himself to Xander’s chest and sighed happily. “Damn you’re hot.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
“Later,” Xander laughed. “You look like you’re about to keel over from exhaustion.”
Spike grunted. “Your bloody fault.”
“Of course it is.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?”
“Right here, watching Star Trek,” Xander agreed.
“Good. Because I was serious about those chains.”
Spike fell asleep moments later, and Xander smiled at the vampire in his arms.
True to his word, Xander was there when Spike woke up a few hours later and went willingly as the vamp drew him forward for a kiss.
“Taste good,” Spike murmured against his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. What time is it?”
“About nine o’clock.”
“Prolly should call Cordelia. Though, now that I think about it, I should make you do it. As a matter of fact…”
“Oh no…”
“Oh yes. And don’t even try giving me the puppy eyes.”
“But…”
“Suck it up, Harris. It’s just Cordelia,” he smirked.
“Easy for you to say.”
“Yeah… it is, isn’t it?” Spike laughed. He continued to do so as Cordelia reamed Xander a new one, only stopping once he promised to come home, preferably before Christmas.
“See you in a few days, love,” Spike told Cordelia, having finally taken pity on Xander and pried the phone away from the boy’s ear. He hung up on her outraged protests.
“That warrants some kind of reward, don’t you think?”
“What did you have in mind?” Xander asked.
Spike leered and Xander delved beneath the covers to show his appreciation.
“Ahhhh… bloody hell, Harris. That’ll do.”
The End
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