bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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bmblbee
bloodclaim

Hope House

Title: HOPE HOUSE
11/46
Author: BmblBee
Paring: Primarily S/X with a very minor S/OCs.
Rating: NC17 Adult Reading
Disclaimer: The Bee has no claim on any of the characters or
products named in this story and receives no profit from anything.
Warnings: Adult language, Prostitution, Violence, strong sexual
content. NOTE: All the boys working in Hope House are over
the age of 18. The Bee does not do underage!

Summary: Long after the final battle of Sunnydale, Xander is
alone, his life in shambles. Is there anywhere he can go and anyone
who can give him hope? There just might be.





As always, kudos to Petxnd for the wonderful banner.


Xander slowly came back to himself as he floated to the surface of
consciousness. He lay perfectly still, with his eyes closed and took
stock of his situation. The first thing that became obvious was the
quiet. There was no traffic overhead. No cold damp earth beneath
him and his head was not on his duffel bag.

His first thought was that he was dead. He smiled. 'Thank God'. He had
finally found peace. He was warm, dry, safe and the endless struggle to survive
was over. Xander relaxed. He wondered how long it would take for someone
to come and get him. He hoped it would be his Grandmother.

Then he moved.
Just the slightest attempt to raise his arm sent a shock of pain sizzling through
body that screamed hell on earth and he knew if he had died, he was not in
the land of milk and honey.

He was alive. 'Fuck!' Was the only response his brain could concoct. The
realization, combined with the agony rolling through him in nauseating waves
cleared his mind and started him on a path of circumstantial evaluation.

His first concern was, where was he? Followed by 'how did I get here?'
and the ever popular 'who beat me up this time?'
The question of how to escape was less pressing as he had no where to
go and was obviously in no physical condition to get there.

Holding his body as motionless as possible, Xander eased one swollen, puffy
eye open and waited while it tried to focus. The room was silent, dark and
smelled of disinfectant. He carefully turned his head to the side and was able
to make out the shape of a plump female sitting in a chair, apparently asleep.

'Oh, great. I'm in the hospital. Some fucking good Samaritan must have stumbled
over me and called for an ambulance to cart my worthless carcass here.'
Xander snorted. He hoped the county didn't think they were going to be
paid. Not unless there was a charity fund for indigent whores. Which,
considering this was L.A., there probably was.

Next, he took stock of his physical condition. Starting at the bottom, he
wriggled his toes and feet and was relieved to find that when the time came, he
could at least stand on his own and walk away. The legs were another story.
When he tried to move them, the muscles cramped, ached and he knew the
infected bite mark on his groin was probably worse.
No problem. As long as there were no broken bones, he could still work.

'WORK!'
The word hit him like a brick. It came to him at the same instant he moved to
considered the condition of his dick.
'Oh, holy Mother of God!'

His hand gingerly felt under the blanket and he was stunned to feel a tube had
been inserted through the head of his penis. Terror gripped him and it was all
he could do not to rip it out. He couldn't imagine what was wrong with him
that they would have done such a thing. 'VD?' He wondered. 'Do I have some
advanced stage of VD?'

His head now snapped to the side, to the sleeping nurse who was apparently
engaging in a case of dereliction of duty by snoozing on the job, and he wanted
to scream.
"WHAT THE FUCK?"

But he didn't. The self preservation side of his brain told him to wait. It advised
him to complete his assessment and fully understand his situation before revealing
himself, so he did. In an attempt to relax, Xander took a deep breath which
brought his attention to his next problem. The stabbing pain in his sides that
indicated several broken ribs.

Slowly lifting his hand, he felt the snug tape around his midsection and thought.
'Yep. Broken.'
He then felt around his face, letting his fingertips trace the outline of the butterfly
clamps on his scalp and the tape over the bridge of his nose. He flexed his
other arm and could feel the needle of an IV stuck in the back of his hand.
He hated having things stuck in him.

The expert conclusion? Xander Harris would, sadly, recover. Except for the
upsetting penis situation, he had been hurt this bad more than once back in
Sunnydale battling the forces of evil.

He then realized one other thing. The past five minutes of cataloging his injuries
had been more exhausting than fighting a gaggle of fledges in Longview Cemetery.
So, it was dark, he was apparently safe and there was nothing he could do
right now anyway. The choice was simple.

Xander closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

The light rapping on the door woke the housekeeper from her sleep and she
hoisted her self up from her chair. It was more than apparent to her that
her older, overweight body was not designed for sleeping upright in a hard
wooden chair and she took a moment to stretch and flex, working the kinks
that would make walking possible.

She paused to look down at the sleeping face of her patient and assure herself
that all was well before stepping into the hallway.

"How is he?"

"He seems improved, Master. His breathing has smoothed out and he is resting
better. I expect him to wake up at anytime."

Spike nodded and glanced through the doorway that was barely cracked
open. He was relieved. He frankly wasn't ready for the boy to wake up yet.
He hadn't decided what their next move would be.

"Fine. It's nearly 4 in the afternoon. The boys will be getting up soon, why
don't you go ahead and start their breakfast."

Mrs. Gessel hesitated.
"You think we should leave him alone?"

For once, Spike never considered the fact that she had committed the
unforgivable sin of questioning him. The weight of the offense was balanced
out and the scales tipped by her concern for their valued patient.

"It will be all right. I will have one of the boys, maybe Beanie, come sit with
him while you see to your duties."

Judy Gessel nodded and turned to walk away. At the last minute, as an after
thought, Spike called to her.

"Oh, by the way, how is Jack?"

It took all her strength to check the smug, gleeful look the demon housekeeper
wanted to let spread over her face.

"He will heal. I packed his anus with gauze to stop the bleeding and it took
me nearly an hour with the pliers to pull all of the stingers and barbs out of
him. The one that pierced his balls was tricky, but I got it. When do you
want him released?"

Spike shrugged.
"After we get the others out on the streets, you can unchain him and take
him some food and water. Let him sleep tonight and he can come up in
the morning. When you do, tell him he is to come see me immediately."

Judy grinned.
"You're the Master."
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