bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

5 Days More

TITLE: 5 Days More
RATING: Adult entertainment due to m/m sexual activity
and language.
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction. Conceived in the warped
hive of the BmblBee. She owns none of the
characters or products named and makes no money
from their use.
WARNINGS: Character death. Boys playing with boys.
Vampire/ human contact.

SUMMARY: Xander Harris is dead. Drained by a vampire in
the Longview Cemetery. When his body is discovered
his friends realize that no one has seen or heard from him
in the last five days. Willow comes up with a spell to send
someone back in time to find out how he ended up there
and possibly save his life. Spike is reluctantly recruited.

Thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and patient preread.

10:55 pm Friday night
Xander Harris is about to die.

Spike sat on the damp ground, the cold rock block of his crypt
at his back and the warm pliant body of the willing boy in his arms.

He was shocked and confused. Just minutes ago he had accepted this
as his last night to walk the earth. Defeated, tired, depressed and desolate,
he was ready to embrace the final death. An eternity in hell would be
better than the false imitation of a life he had been living.

Then, out of the blue, here comes the Slayer's boy. Professing
his love and devotion and offering himself up like a sacrificial lamb leading
itself to slaughter. Just didn't seem right. Really couldn't be believed,
yet here he was.

They say the last stage of starvation is insanity. It is the body and the
minds way of easing the transition from life to death. So if that is the case
then this is just an illusion. It isn't real. He is probably still on the crypt floor
imagining all this. Dreaming away his last unneeded breath.

"Please. Spike, hurry. I'm ready."
Xander tipped his head further to the side, offering his neck to the hesitating
vampire. Something didn't feel exactly right about this and it certainly wasn't
the romantic, loving turning he had envisioned, but hell, since he had never
died before, he wasn't sure what to expect.

He was just so grateful that Spike had shown up. He didn't want to offer
himself to some strange vampire, but he needed turning, so you do what
you have to do. The fact that Spike had changed his mind, well it
should have made it perfect. Should have.

Spike stared down. His nose was less than an inch away from the bulging
pulsing vein in the side of the boys neck. He sniffed it. Sure smelled like
blood. He ran his tongue up the entire length of the exposed throat
tasting the salty flavor of human sweat.
His weakened state never noticed the wounds on the other side of the throat.
Xander shuddered as the wet skin hit the cold night air.

Anticipation was curdling in his stomach like two week old milk.
He didn't know why Spike was hesitating and fear that he wouldn't
go through with it was beginning to be a real concern.

Reaching up reassuringly, Xander ran his hand up the vampire's arm
patting his shoulder like you do a small child's back.
"It's o.k, Spike. Go ahead. I promise it's the right thing to do. I
want you to do it."

The heat from the boy's hand soaked through the leather duster and into
the vampire's cold body startling him out of his mental reservation.
And that was all it took.

With the final decision of, what did he have to lose, Spike snorted like
a wild stag, dropped his fangs and bit deeply into the warm, welcoming

Xander jerked, shocked at the sudden flash of pain that shot through
his body and he fought the urge for preservation that screamed at him
to run, fight, escape. By the third draw, the pain had subsided and Xander
sighed, relaxing into the arms of his death.

Spike's whole body reacted to the act of the sharp fangs piercing
living flesh. Lunging forward, he clutched the victim tightly, his legs
wrapping around the boy's and his limp, impotent cock humping
against the boy's ass.

But it was the first deep swallow of the hot sweet blood that stunned him
nearly causing him to choke and retreat. The boy's blood told a story
that made no sense.

Beyond the pure love and adoration the human had for Spike, the vampire
could taste something deeper. Something rich and connective.
'Holy fucking shit!' Spike's brain shouted at him. "We're bonded!"

That was when Spike sadly came to the only conclusion possible.
He was insane. This was a dream, a final parting gift his brain was giving
his body as a going away present.

It depressed him more than anything ever had. This was what he had searched
his entire existence for. This connection to another being. A commitment
of companionship and promise. If only it had been true. If only this were
real, he would had indeed considered turning the boy.

But it wasn't, so Spike drank on, needing the blood but craving the addictive
emotions that flowed through him. If he was dying, he was dying happy.


Leaping over a small stone angel, Spike knew the second the fangs had
pierced his boys skin.

His heart wrenching scream split the night air causing a restless
moaning and whispering among the restless spirits that inhabited the
Longview Cemetery. They floated about, watching with detached
curiosity, the scene that was playing out before them.

Rapidly closing in, Spike could see off in the distance the shapes of
two figures huddled, slumped down against the very crypt that he
had used as the hovel he called home.

Through the bond he detected his boy's heartbeat, no longer strong and
regular it was now weak, irregular and thready. Spike whimpered. His
legs protested that they could run no faster but his heart gave them
a renewed burst of extra strength.


The boy lay limp in his arms. Still alive but no longer containing
enough blood to recover. His life was spent. Given willingly
to the vampire who was still sucking greedily on the feelings
the blood contained.


When the sound exploded in his ears, Spike's eyes snapped open and focused
off in the darkness at the figure rushing towards them. The nearer he got the
more he looked strangely familiar.

When he leaped over the headstones, the black duster flapping in the wind
and the blond, slicked back hair glowing in the moonlight finally registered,
Spike withdrew his fangs and hissed.

He knew now that this was it. The final moment of total insanity when he faced
himself and was at his end. For a second, Spike considered taking the boy with
him. It was his kill, it's blood still spoke only to him, but he knew that was an illusion.

He wasn't really out here. He wasn't drinking the blood of the Slayer's side kick.
He wasn't loved. He wasn't bonded.

Dropping the limp human from his arms, Spike stood, revitalized and strong.
He yowled like a wounded cat and backed away snarling at the approaching
vision of hell. Turning, he ran off into the night.

Spike had recognized himself long before his past self had. It had never
occurred to him that while the future him was in the past and present, the
past him would be...........even now it was too overwhelming and confusing
for one small vampire mind to suss out.

It was also irrelevant. Xander was dying. He was killing his boy and he
needed to get there to stop himself.

As he skidded to a stop, he saw himself, full, healthy and renewed on
blood he had no right to, rush away. Immediately, Spike fell to his knees
and gathered his pet up in his loving embrace. There was not enough blood
left in his veins for Spike to take and he could only pray that since it was
really him that had drained his boy, the result would be the same.

The only thing he was certain of was that he couldn't lose what he had
finally found.
Right or wrong, Spike knew what he wanted to do.
Shaking the boy lightly, Spike shouted and prayed he wasn't too late.

"Xan, Xan, you in there? Come on, answer me. XANDER! Damn it
boy, you answer your Master!""

Slowly, sluggishly, Xander's eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on the
comanding voice of his master, his world. He tried to answer but his voice
had no sound, no strength.

Spike sobbed in relief, rocking them together. Wasting no time he dropped
his fangs and bit deeply into his own wrist, holding the stream of rich
magic over the open lips. Just as the first drops of blood hit and rolled off
Xander's closed mouth, the tingle of the draw stirred inside him. Spike knew
they were both nearly out of time.

"Come on, Xan, swallow. Please, baby, open up and swallow."
The fear and desperation in Spike's voice registered in the last functioning brain
cell of Xander's conscious mind and his mouth fell open.

"YES! That's it. Now swallow, Xan. Come on, stick with me for just a minute
more. Please, Xan, please, try."

The churning, tugging inside him grew stronger and Spike feared it was
lost. He could no longer feel his feet and the power of the magic was
sliding up his spine. Suddenly, when he felt he could hold on no longer,
Xander's mouth attached itself to the wound and he sucked.

Two thick heavy mouthfuls slid down his throat as his heart stopped beating
and the vampire holding him so tightly, evaporated into thin air.

Xander Harris was dead.

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