Title: Family Bonds
Summary: After his relationship with Anya fizzles out Xander and Spike become lovers. Xander’s insecurities lead him to seek help from
Notes:AU beginning S6 roughly replacing Hells Bells.I tweaked the Verse to suit myself. No Dawn (enough with the squealing), Buffy didn't die (not because I don't want her to, just don't need her to) and Spike would so never had slept with her (Spuffy? Eeww...squicky).
Thanks again kitty_alex
Disclaimer: not mine, all belongs Joss and
Feedback and concrit appreciated and lusted after.
Previous chapters can be found here
CHAPTER 9 - BLOOD ON THE MOON
CHAPTER 9 - BLOOD ON THE MOON
Spike lay unmoving in a spreading pool of blood. His clothes were drenched, blood oozed from his gut, shoulder, both legs and chest. He had a multitude of small cuts over his face and hands, each bleeding freely.
Xander stood rooted to the spot. So much blood. Coming from so many places. Could a vampire bleed to death? His fault. This was his fault. He was useless, couldn’t help in any real way and here was the result. Spike was dying. Spike had gone, without any thought of himself, to defend and protect Xander. The guilt over the cut calf was nothing compared to this. Xander may as well have just staked Spike himself. Either way the culpability was his. He’d known it would happen someday, one of his friends would die because of his ineptitude, actually he’d thought it would more likely be him.
He blinked dazedly at Tom, taking a moment to focus. “Tom, look what I’ve done.” He tried to wrench himself free of Tom’s grip. “I’ve killed him.”
Oh god. Stupid, selfish indulgence in self-pity. Time better spent helping Spike. Xander shook the doubts from the fore of his mind. Wounded fighter. Here was something he could do, had been doing for years, a way to begin making recompense, if that were even possible.
Xander looked around the cavern, no other rooms, there must be something here. Then he noticed the low stone tablet, chains and cuffs at either end. Not going to stop and think what that was for. Just going to run over there and grab that fancy embroidered blanket spread over it. He pulled the cloth free, shaking off several Hokard pieces and no small amount of dust. Returning to Tom, Xander spread the fabric on the floor and together they carefully lifted Spike, laying him down on it.
Xander took a moment to check over Spike. So pale, always was pale but this was different. His cheeks, usually so sharp and defined were sunken hollows, as were his eyes. Blood seeped from the many stab wounds and gashes. He looked to Tom for instructions, then picked up the ends of the cloth at Spike’s head as Tom indicated. Carrying him carefully they made their way back out of the den and into the sewer.
They were soon back at Xander’s car, Tom calling Rose while Xander covered the back of the car with sheets. Together, they manoeuvred Spike onto the seat and Xander climbed in and crouched in the small space beside him. As they drove, Xander found some smaller towels and held them fast against the seeping gashes. The worst one, in Spike’s side, soon needed a second cloth. In the silence of the car, Xander’s mind began to wander.
There had been so much blood on the floor, how could there be more? Would he just keep bleeding until he was empty? What then? Would he dust, could he live like this? His duster. Spike was going to be so mad when he saw the holes in his duster. Xander stifled a laugh. Catch yourself Harris. Get it together. You’re no help to Spike if you lose it. Xander mentally slapped himself, would have physically if he’d not been elbow deep in Spike’s blood.
They pulled the car up to the pub. Rose had the door open, lighting their way across the sidewalk. Tom and Xander manhandled Spike inside and through to the kitchen, laying him on the long work bench. Rose set to work pulling off his boots and cutting away the jeans, but when she moved to his duster Xander stopped her and with Tom’s help, they peeled the wet, damaged coat away. Rose cut off his shirt then motioned to the large bucket of milky liquid on the floor.
As they worked, his appearance improved. Under the blood was more undamaged skin than Xander could have hoped for. He had some major punctures and some minor slices but it looked nowhere near as bad as he’d first thought
“But he’s lost so much blood already, these bigger wounds are still bleeding and why won’t he wake up?” Xander indicated the cuts in his chest, legs, shoulder and side.
When Spike was washed clean, front and back, Rose began applying a thick, earthy-smelling paste to each cut. She spread it on with her fingers, packing it into the deeper holes, then finishing with a bandage.
Tom laughed. “Don’t bother tryin’ to work out what it is. Our Rosie sources her herbs and deals with medicos from dimensions I ain’t never even heard of. She’s a bit of an inventor you might say.” He looked at his wife with pride. “Just about nothin’ my girl here can’t fix.”
“Give him my blood.” Xander said, holding his arm out and very close to begging. “That’ll help right? I need to help.”
“Spike wouldn’t want me to help him?” Xander asked, not understanding.
Xander nodded; it made sense to him. Like so many of the other bizarre things in his increasingly bizarre life.
“Tom! I would never take advantage. He’s injured, unconscious. How dare you even suggest-” She stopped her rant and flushed when Tom grinned and winked at her. “Oh, just get me the blood Thomas.”
“I always have a supply of fresh blood in here. Don’t get many vamps in but some of the demons like it as a mixer.” He was passing Xander large bags of blood as he spoke. “Microwave’s in the kitchen.”
Rose answered him gently. “Xander, I’m going to put a tube down his throat. We’ll pour two bags in and let that take hold. By then, instincts should kick in enough for him to be able to bite a bag and drink himself. It may take a few more bags before he comes around completely.”
Rose directed him to stand behind Spike’s head. “Tip his head back for me, stretch his neck right out and hold him still while I get the tube in.”
Xander could hear him drawing on the bag and sent a quiet prayer of gratitude to whichever deity saw fit to watch over vampires. He let his hands gently stroke the changed planes of the vampire’s face and neck and lowered his forehead to rest against Spike’s. Tom put a chair under him, then he heard more bags being heated and the drained ones thrown away. He waited and willed Spike to wake up, or at least to move, or to make a sound other than the sucking and swallowing that was no more than an innate reflex. Wake up so I can apologise. Wake up so I can tell you it was my fault. Wake up so I can be angry at you for doing this. Wake up so you can tell me not to be a soddin’
“Xander that’s the last of it. We just have to give him some time and wait now.”
A faint, tired-sounding voice reached him. “Better not be dripping snot on my hair Harris.”
“Just a little, but it looks like hair gel so….” Xander lifted his head and looked into Spike’s still bleary blue eyes. “Spike I’m so sor-”
“Spike I- ”
Xander got up and hurried around to his side. He let Spike grip his arms to pull himself up and kept a hand out in case Spike needed some support. When he saw that he was able to sit steadily by himself Xander stepped back. “How do you feel?”
“Rose?” He asked, pointing to the many patches.
“Still here though aren’t I? Live to fight another day.”
“Here you go mate. Rose had to cut your clothes up so while we were waitin’ for you to wake up I popped out to your place and got you somethin’ to wear. Much to Rose’s disappointment, I won’t have you walkin’ about starkers in my pub.” He handed Spike the duffle and clapped him gently on the uninjured shoulder. “You sure gave us a scare, good to have you back though.”
“Right. Thanks for all you’ve done Rosie, you’re a real treasure. Now set me up with your meds and I’ll be off. Harris, a ride back to my place?” Spike reached for his bag and began digging around for his clean jeans.
Xander snatched the bag and clothes out of Spike’s hand. “He’s not going back to his crypt, he’s coming home with me. No matter what any of you say, I know this whole thing was my fault.” At the beginnings of several protests, Xander held up a hand. “No, don’t bother arguing with me, I can be just as stubborn as Bleachie here. It was my fault so this now is my responsibility. Now, Spike. You promise Rose that you are coming to my place and that you won’t do anything stupid to open up those cuts and I give you your clothes.”
Tom just laughed. “Don’t look at me. No room for you here and if you go back to your crypt I’ll just have to have to come and drag you out of there. Don’t know about you but I’m not brave enough to cross our Rosie.”
Xander held the bag out to Spike, just beyond his reach.
Xander snorted. “I’m not sure what you said but I am pretty sure I won’t be doing it.” He went with Rose to collect the paste and instructions.
“I can hear you worrying Harris. Will you stop being a soddin’
“Spike you could have di- ”
“You’re okay with that? The gamble?”
“It’d be a gamble only if I didn’t know what I was doing. Get used to it Harris. It is how it is.”
“Unless you take to me with some kind of weapon- and god help you if you ever do- then you are not the cause of any of this. It was my choice to go, my choice to fight and I will not argue this with you again. You want to have a row then let’s find something else.”
“And where exactly are you sleeping?” Spike asked with a ghost of his usual smirk.
Spike looked over at the couch, then at Xander with a questioning expression. “Ah mate, would that be the couch with the little red-haired witch on it or the other couch with the blonde witch?”