Disclaimer: I do not own any of the
characters in this story and make no
money off them.
Summary: AU. Xander is a young man
living in an Amish community when he
finds himself confronted by the evil of a
STRONG WARNING: although done in a respectful
manner, this story deals with religious issues. If you
find that offensive DO NOT READ.
Warning - Character death
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful artwork
The room was deathly quiet. The air itself seemed to have
disappeared, sucked out when Willow walked away.
Never taking his eyes off Xander's failing body, Spike
slowly pulled himself to his feet. He suddenly felt every
one of his hundred and twenty plus years.
The borrowed spirit, though not his own, and certainly
not a true soul such as Angel's long suffering crown of thorns,
weighed heavy on his shoulders.
It made what he was about to do seem like the
worst and the best idea in the world.
He wanted this more than he had ever wanted
anything. More than Angel's approval,
and surprisingly more than Dru's love.
Walking all around the sofa, Spike studied the
boy lying there and wondered what it was about
him that made him so special.
It shocked him to think that if he had just followed
his instinct that first night in the barn and killed and
drained him then, none of this would have happened.
Could it have been that easy? Was destiny set in stone
or could it be changed and altered with free will?
His Mother had told him once that we are all where
we are in life because of a series of small choices
we have made.
Decisions that seem inconsequencial at the time,
but alter the way of the future just enough.
And it was true.
The choice to come here. The choice to let them live, the
choice to let Xander worm his way into Spike's dead heart.
Spike stopped and crouched down to stare into Xander's
"So here we are, Xander, because of choices I made.
Choices you made. Even the choices of Angel and
the Slayer. All decisions that led us here.
And now I am about to make the biggest one of them
all. How do we ever know ahead of time if those choices
are the right ones? I guess this is where that faith of yours
comes into play."
Sitting on the side of the couch Spike scooped
Xander's unconscious body up in his arms and settled
him on his lap. Even in his drug induced sleep, Xander
moaned in pain.
"Shhh. I know it hurts, Boy, but I am about to make it
all go away. No more pain, no more suffering."
Allowing Xander's head to flop limply to the side,
Spike let his fangs drop and in a flash bit in. The first
full swallow of the pure, sweet innocent blood of his boy
slammed into him like a sledge hammer made of golden
He wanted to take it slowly, savor the magic of it, but
he knew that time was up. Even now the heartbeat had
slowed to more of a bird-like flutter than the once strong
pounding human heart he had listened to so often.
Quickly he pulled back and bit into his own flesh, tearing
it open and offering it up to Xander's pale lips, begging
him to drink.
"Swallow, Boy, swallow."
When nothing happened, Spike began to panic, his
insecurities telling him he was being rejected, again.
Whispering in his ear that he was never good enough.
But this time there was a second voice.
One that told him to be strong, believe, and it will all be o.k.
Taking a calming breath, he tried again.
"Please, Xander, please, drink."
At last the seemingly lifeless lips attached themselves to
Spike's wrist and began to suck.
The feel of the borrowed blood being drawn back to the
owners body was more erotic that Spike could have
He felt his erection harden and he began to rock against
the body of his precious boy. Not able to get enough friction,
Spike quickly unbuttoned his pants and wrapped his fist
around his leaking painful cock.
He wanted to be ashamed but knew sex was a vital part
of the connection and turning.
He stripped himself roughly and came within minutes.
Pulling his wrist from Xander's mouth Spike scooped his
release from his hand and fed that to the boy also, sealing the
It was then that he realized the heart had stopped.
It was done.
Spike carefully laid the body back down on the bed, and
much like Willow, kissed him lightly on the forehead.
Before leaving, Spike licked the boy's face clean.
All traces of blood and cum were gone replaced with a kiss
on his lips and a promise.
"Sleep and heal boy. I will be back to collect you. Have
faith in me, Xander. I'll never let you down."
Exhausted, Spike slipped silently out the window and off to
the barn to rest and wait.
He was no more than half way there when he heard the
wails of the boys mother and the sobs of his sister.
Once music to his ears now lay heavy in his gut.
Rushing onward to the safety of the far stall in the barn,
Spike burrowed deep in a nest of straw. Drenched in the
boy's spirit and filled with his pure blood, Spike fell asleep
to dream the dreams of the innocent.
The blood's memories filled his sleeping mind with the false
impressions of a childhood that was not his. He dreamed of
playing in the pasture with a five year old Willow. They
hid and ran by the creek and played hide and seek..
He could feel the anger when she broke his wagon, and
the love and gentle benevolence of his Mother when she
spoke of forgiveness and God's love.
The spirit whispered all these things in his dreams
giving him an understanding of his boy.
Spike woke the next night with a smile on his face. He
had slept through the whole day as the boys life played
out behind his closed eyelids.
He now had the answer to his question. He now knew
what made this boy special. More special than anyone
else he had ever met. It was nothing he could put into
words, but it was as real as if he could reach out and
And now because of choices they had all made he was
privileged enough to share it.
Hopefully for years to come.
Till the final battle of Magedo.
Spike could feel that the sun was down and it made him
restless. He had promised himself he would stay out of
sight and wait till he could claim his property.
Just one more day.
He could be patient.
He could wait.
Spike stretched, yawned and using his enhanced senses
made sure he was alone. He paced around the stall
wondering what was going on in the house.
Truth was he was terrified they would cut into the body
or take him away. Put him somewhere Spike couldn't follow.
What would happen if he couldn't find him and the boy woke
All the possibilities swarmed and multiplied in his brain till
it drove him from the sanctuary of the barn.
He needed to see.
To satisfy himself that all was well.
Keeping to the shadows, Spike slipped around to the back
side of the house.
He stayed low and moved quickly.
He sniffed the air for danger and kept his yellow eyes
directed on the house.
Anyone looking out the window would have just seen a
shadow. Maybe the dark branches of a swaying tree.
Certainly nothing human.
Certainly nothing to fear.
No one in the house could have known it was the form
of a demon waiting to collect their lost loved one.