Author: Thea Zara aka 50ftqueenie
Warnings/Squicks: The plot is driven by child abuse (both sexual and physical), non-con, slash, violence, attempted suicide, bloodplay, and the author making horribly cliche use of multiple personality disorder caused by the first two. There is however plot and H/C. The non con/child abuse is part of that and NOT part of the slash relationship itself.
Summary: Xander has a trigger, and with an unexpected death, the First now has a means to use it. Set just after Orpheus in Season 4 of Angel, and just prior to the Buffy episode 'Dirty Girls'.
Author's note: This is obviously going to go AU right off the bat, and in this AU, Spike's trigger is broken enough that the First can no longer make him kill, but it can still cause blackouts.
Previous Parts: Memories
Spike had actually managed to doze off. The cuffs weren't quite that tight and years under Dru and Angelus, not to mention his stint with the watcher, had toughened his ability to sleep in chains. A smell brought him out of it. Something rich and heady, something strong. As the fog of sleep cleared he realized what he was smelling and started struggling with the cuffs. Someone was bleeding. Someone was bleeding a whole bloody lot.
He pulled against the cuffs and realized immediately they were police issue, not the cheap knock offs that were barely a step above plastic. Fortunately they weren't vampire proof. Apparently neither was his headboard. The left set of cuffs snapped in the middle of the chain, the right cuff stayed attached, but was now attached to a sizable piece of the headboard. Finally free, he rushed towards the bathroom door.
The smell of hot blood nearly knocked him over as he took in the scene. He ran to the tub frantically grabbing a towel on his way and tried to stop the bleeding. On one level his mind was racing in a hundred different directions. Reading the wall, reading Xander's chest, trying to stop the flow of blood. On a higher level of his mind there was only one thing. Pure fury. How dare the whelp do this to everyone?
He gripped the bloody wrist in one hand, vampiric strength fighting against anatomy. With the other hand he reached up and smacked the boy across the face. He woke up with a start, but didn't look at Spike at all. Instead he looked over his left shoulder and suddenly seemed to shrink into himself.
"I couldn't. I won't be like you."
Spike started wondering if the whelp was having delusions because of the blood loss, then it hit him like a brick upside the bloody head.
"Xan, listen to me. Whoever's talking to you behind me, whatever they're saying, don't listen. It's the first messing with your head. You remember the first don't you? The bitch is having her way with you, but we're not gonna let her are we?"
"Xan? Who's Xan? I'm Alex. I don't feel good. You're so pretty. I thought so last night too." Suddenly his focus shifted again to behind Spike. "I told you no Daddy. 'm not gonna hurt him. I won't be like you."
"Alex is it? What did your Daddy want you to do, luv?"
Brown eyes filled with fresh tears. "He w-w-wanted me to h-hurt you last night, after he made me put the p'lice cuffs on you."
"Hurt me how, luv?"
"Like he hurts me." 'Alex' whispered.
It took every ounce of willpower Spike had not to scream and curse. Instinctively he knew that would terrify 'Alex' and he had to know the rest.
"How old are you, Alex?"
"I'm this many." He held up his right hand to show he was five.
"Such a big boy. Can you tell me, is there anyone still behind me?" Spike asked quietly.
Big brown eyes looked around the small bathroom, as if someone might be hiding in a corner he couldn't see, before shaking his head no.
"Right then, lets get you all fixed up. Do you trust me?"
Those eyes bore into him as if examining his very soul, newly acquired may it be, before he nodded slowly.
"Right then. You got cut and I need to clean the wound. So I have to do something that might scare you a bit." Spike struggled to think of how to explain vampires without terrorizing the five year old currently occupying Xander's body.
"You're gonna make your eyes go yellow again, aren't ya?" 'Alex' asked.
"That's right, how do you know about that?"
"I saw 'em last night, when Daddy made me un-un-undress y-you." The eyes teared up again. "I'm sorry. I was just scared of Daddy."
"S'alright, pet, no harm, no foul. I reckon I owe you one, cause you stood up to him right fine when it counts. Didn't let him make you hurt me now, did ya." After the smallest shake of a head, 'Well there ya go. Now I'm gonna do a little more than turn my eyes yellow, my face sorta changes cause of what I am. It looks scary, but I'm not gonna hurt ya. Ok, luv?"
Spike shifted and let the healing saliva go to work closing as much of the damage back off as he could. 'Alex' giggled at the feel of his raspy tongue on the arm, but didn't look at him until he moved over to work on the lettering on Xander's chest.
Tears flowed from Spikes eyes as he cleaned and closed the seeping letters. M-o-n-s-t-e-r. Did the whelp consider himself one? Did he remember what had apparently almost happened? Or was there more? 'Of course there's more, there's always more.'
Suddenly fingers were running across his ridges and wiping away tears he was barely aware of. "Don't cry. I don't think this face is scary. It's pretty too."
Spike smiled through the tears and held onto the hand for a moment. "There's one more thing you gotta do for me, luv. I'm gonna give you something to drink that will help fix up the cuts on you, but it's gonna be strange. I promise though, you will be a lot better after."
"So it's like medicine?" Xander asked nose already wrinkled in disdain.
"No, luv. It tastes pretty good, if memory serves, it's just a little weird, s'all." Not waiting any longer, Spike bit his wrist and slipped it towards Xander's mouth. 'Alex' looked into his eyes one last time, then latched his mouth onto Spike's wrist and began drinking.
Spike's whole body went rigid as he began to slip into Xander's memories. Memories as 'Alex' came first. A kind but ultimately inadequate mother and a brutal and twisted father. Then Xander's life started, a tiny Red, who came with fierce protective impulses, who meant sister and safe and love. Concepts he had never experienced before. Then a light haired boy who meant brother and protector. Then another girl 'Is that the cheerleader?' who meant strength. He watched them grow together and apart and together again. He watched Buffy join their group, and felt the violent loss of the light haired boy 'Brother/protector'. He felt the guilt at causing the death, both for being a vampire, and as Xander felt it. He saw Angel show up, and the quiet attraction, then felt the betrayal and rage when he found out what Angel was. He felt Giles and Joyce become the parents he should have had, and felt the longing for them to love him that way. He met Dawn all over again and became her big brother, her protector. He felt the Hyena, and knew it was still part of Xander. He lived the years of loving Buffy, knowing he would never be enough for her, of loving the cheerleader, and loving Red. He met Oz who became pack and once again a brother. Anya joined his life became someone he cherished and protected. Tara, another sister, lost all too soon.
He felt it all, but what hit him the hardest were the things he induced. Fear, attraction, anxiety, jealousy, envy, love, hate, betrayer, supporter, and woven through all of it was pack. Pack was family, pack was Buffy and Willow and Giles and Dawn and Anya and Tara and as very strange as it seemed, Spike. Mate and hunt partner and love.
As he fought his way out of Xander's memories he was broadsided by a wave of guilt. The things he saw before the wedding stabbed through Spike's mind in a millisecond. The hate and the anger and the violence, and suddenly he understood, or thought he did. Then the final piece fell into place. Xander thought he'd become his father, Xander thought he'd raped his mate, his love, his Spike. Xander thought he was a monster and a danger to the pack, to the family, and he wouldn't allow himself to hurt anyone again, wouldn't let himself become his father. It was why he left demon girl at the alter, and why he tried to leave the planet just now.
Spike pulled his arm away gently and looked at the crying man in front of him. The man he now knew probably better than he knew himself. Xander was in the building again, but he still thought himself dirty and guilty and wrong and evil. Spike wouldn't have that, not one second longer.
"You didn't do anything, luv. The First tried to make you, and you fought back. You told it no." Spike realized Xander was focused behind him again. "Is that bitch back again? Tell her to fuck off, we got plans before sunrise." With that he helped Xander out of the tub avoiding the bucket of blood and the stained towels. He'd have to clean this up before they left or the girls would definitely panic. The smell from the bucket, the fresh still warm human blood 'Xander's blood' was making him sick.
Spike carefully dried and dressed Xander, then grabbed a duffel bag and packed it up with things he thought Xan would want or need. He sat that next to the silent man and slipped back into the bathroom. Willing himself not to breath or think about it, he picked up the bucket and flushed the contents, then rinsed it out and put it back under the sink.
Had Xander meant for him to drink that? Was it supposed to be retribution? The idea of Xander spilling out his life blood in guilt over something he hadn't done, or for any reason honestly, made Spike want to scream and break things, but now wasn't the time for that. He took another towel, wetted it, and wiped down the message on the wall. The thought of Xander sitting there waiting to die as he wrote an apology very nearly broke his resolve.
"You're going to pay for bringing him to this, you bitch." He called out while he wiped away his name, knowing that the First was listening, watching, waiting for another chance to hurt them.
He finished the wall and drained the tub, but as he gathered up the now ruined towels he could still read the words that had been printed in blood. They were etched on his retina's and would probably never go away. 'I'm sorry, Spike' Would he ever stop seeing that? God, he hoped so.
He got dressed then quickly threw some supplies in a bag, including several packets of blood, which he could still barely look at, and a couple changes of clothes. That done he quickly scribbled a note for the girls and left it on the kitchen table. Satisfied that he'd covered their bases, he grabbed Xander's cell and charger, keys, and wallet. He tucked all but the keys away in Xander's duffel bag then set both bags by the door. Another look at the clock told him they had to move if they stood a chance of getting where they needed to be before dawn made things a might dusty.
He stepped back into Xander's bedroom and looked at the still crying young man. "Xan, luv, we have to go." Xander didn't ask where or why, he simply stood up and followed Spike from the room, the fingers of one hand barely skimming over Spike's leather clad arm. Spike grabbed the bags and led them down to Xander's car. He thew the bags in the back seat and got Xander in the front passenger side and buckled in, then slipped around to the driver's seat.
This more than anything told him how far gone Xander was. He would NEVER let Spike drive his baby. Once after patrol Xander'd taken a hit that Spike KNEW had him seeing triple, and had ragged claw marks up both sides and down his arm, and he'd STILL insisted on driving. He'd laughed uproariously at the idea of letting Spike drive him the mile and a half home.
They'd been on the highway for forty minutes before Xander spoke. "Spike, where are we going?"
"Sire." Spike said quietly. Xander just nodded his head like that explained it all, and who knows, maybe it did.
I dozed off or this would have been posted a few hours ago.