bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

Hard Time

HARD TIME
37/47
Author: BmblBee
Paring: Spander (of course)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Bad language and explicit sexual m/m activity.
Summary: Xander is wrongly convicted of murder and sent
to Riverview Correctional Institution where Spike is a guard.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or products named in
this story and sadly, make no profit.
Hard Time is based on a story idea from Ladyvirgo.





Thanks to the amazing Petxnd for the banner.


Wesley tried his best to keep his eyes focused on the crouching, thin,
desperate man that stood trembling in front of him. He forced himself to
continue breathing despite the wrenching, sour stench of the rotting,
spoiled food that spilled out of the barrels lining both sides of the alley.

He struggled to ignore the heavy, moving piles of maggots that rolled
and swirled like a pool of white, living scum only inches from his feet.
He knew he had to move closer, slowly, carefully and he understood
that there was no way to do that without causing a squishing slime that
would stick to his shoes forever.

"Jesse? Is your name Jesse?
"Who are you? What the fuck do you want?"

Wesley stepped in, wincing as the maggots crunched and oozed under
his feet. He held his hands up, showing he held no weapon and meant
no harm. Jesse's eyes darted around wildly and he looked as if he would
bolt at the first opportunity.

"Jesse, my name is Wesley. I'm not from the police. I just want to
talk to you. Can we do that? Can we talk?"

Jesse snorted, a sound intended to convey disgust, it sadly came out more
as a helpless sob.
"Fuck. I almost wish you were the cops. How did he find me? I knew
he would but shit, I didn't think it would be this quick. Did he send you
to kill me or just bust me up?"

Wesley frowned in confusion.
"He? Who do you think sent me?"

"Don't fuckin' play with me! I'm not stupid! Warren sent you. Somehow
he found out I was alive and Warren sent you here to find me. Well fine.
Just fucking shoot me and be done with it!"

Jesse suddenly stood straight up and threw his hands out at his sides as
the tears ran freely down his anguished face.
"I'm fucking tired of waiting and looking over my shoulder anyway. Please,
just pull the fucking trigger and put me out of my misery."

Wesley cautiously eased closer.
"No, Jesse, Warren didn't send me. I'm not here to hurt you. I promise.
Look, no gun, no weapons."
Wesley turned in a 360 to show there was nothing concealed on his body.

"I'm here because of the letter you sent. The letter to Xander."

Jesse's expression suddenly turned to surprise then fury and he slammed
his fist against the brick wall, tearing the skin and leaving a bloody smear
that caused Wesley to cringe in sympathy. Immediately he closed the
gap between them and he pulled a crisp, white, well ironed linen
handkerchief from his pocket, wrapping it around Jesse's injured hand.

Jesse didn't respond or fight off the unexpected physical contact. Wesley
took that as a good sign and he gently tugged Jesse toward the mouth of the
alley.

"Why don't we go somewhere a bit more comfortable? What say we go to
Rosie's and have a spot of tea and a bit of a talk? Can we do that Jesse?"

Jesse held his cloth covered injury close to his chest and nodded. Together, the
two men walked back out into the searing sunlight and down to the cantina.

Selecting a table in the back, Wesley ordered tea and kept an eye on the now
despondent, silent man. When he felt Rosie was out of ear shot, he began.

"My name is Wesley Windham-Pryce and I have recently been retained as
Alexander Harris's new attorney. We plan to request he be given a new
trial based on several points of law and have hopes that he will soon be
released. When he received your letter, Mr. Harris believed it to have
been sent by someone he knew that was using the alias of 'Warren'. We
all believed Warren to be the real perpetrator of the crime Mr. Harris
was convicted of. Now that we know you are very much alive you do
understand that I cannot allow situation to go uncorrected."

Jesse sat, still silent. The tears ran from his downturned face and his
shoulders slumped in defeat. When he finally did speak, his voice was
barely above a whisper.

"I never wanted it to be like this. I loved Xander. Hell, I still love him.
Everything just got so crazy. It all started spinning out of control and there
didn't seem to be anyway to stop it."

Reaching over, Wesley patted Jesse's uninjured hand.
"Why don't you tell me all of it and possibly we can figure this out together."

Jesse knew there was no solution, but he was almost relieved. He had
wanted to tell his story to someone for a long time. The power of it had
threatened to explode inside him if he couldn't let it out.
He sighed, nodded and began.

"It started two years ago. Me and Xan was together and it was great.
He was working at a site and I just got hired on. We knew right away
that we was meant to be together. Only arguments we ever had was
that he was a home body. Never wanted to go out and I always did.
You know, some dancing, some drinking and a little ugly bumping to
some music. Nothing serious, just flirting. Xan hated that. Always thought
I was fucking someone else. Sometimes I did, but it was just 'standing
in an alley' type stuff. Didn't mean anything. You know? Anyway, one night
one of the guys gave me some meth, said it would keep me dancing all night.
Fuck if he wasn't right. Best fucking feeling in the world. One fucking time
and I was hooked."

Jesse's eyes darted up to Wesley's to search for condemnation, when
he didn't see any, he continued.

"After a while it got real expensive. I spent every cent I had and whatever
of Xander's I could get my hands on but it was never enough. Especially
after I got fired from my job. That's when someone introduced me to
Warren. He let me run book. Owe him. Sometimes he would fuck me
and take a few dollars off the tab. Once when it got too high, he broke
my nose, threatened worse if I didn't pay. I stole an antique ring Xander's
grandmother left him and paid it off. I don't think Xander knew."

Wesley was torn between feeling sorry for the boy and wringing his neck.
"And you still owed more? You continued to use?"

Jesse nodded again.
"I owed thousands. No way I could pay. I remember I just gave up that
night. I burnt up every speck of meth I could find trying to snuff myself out.
When that didn't work, I went to Xander and begged him to help. I knew
he couldn't but he was my only hope. We got thrown out of the bar and
ended up on the beach, still arguing. I didn't even realize I had the knife
till I pulled it out. Somehow, in the struggle, we both got cut. After he
left, I was done. I stripped off and walked out into the water to end it.
Imagine my fucking surprise when I woke up, washed ashore a mile down
the beach. I just ran and hid hoping people would think I was dead.
When Xander got arrested, I felt bad, but shit, there was no way he should
have been convicted. I wanted to tell. I wanted to save him, but if I did,
it would be signing my own death certificate. Warren would find me."
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