Characters: Spike, Xander
Beta(s): Lovely Skargasm
Notes: Sequel (Spike POV) to "Questions later"
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Joss, but I love them more
Previous part "Questions later" can be found here
A/N: “All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity.” (Hamlet by W. Shakespeare)
“No” Spike said, hitting the door with a kick and storming out of the boy's apartment.
He started pacing around the block, chain-smoking and muttering insults to the general direction of the building where Xander's apartment was.
“He thinks that having sex a couple of times means we're engaged, that moron!”
But minutes later he was once again in front of Xander's door. It was still slightly opened, apparently the boy didn't care.
Spike took a furtive peek inside and saw Xander lying in a heap on the floor like a rag-doll, crying.
Crying? He thought incredulous
The vampire frowned and, unseen, walked away.
“I've had enough of broken dolls in the last hundred years” he said walking back to his crypt, completely ignoring the fact that it was his own “merit” for this one doll to be broken.
Los Angeles was no longer his city, too many people around and that damned chip in his head that did not allow him to benefit at all.
Why his Sire had decided to live there, was still a mystery to him, but he had no other place to go, after his escape from Sunnydale.
Angel, after all, was paying for his blood without asking anything in return.
For the first couple of weeks Angel had tried, unsuccessfully, to force him into helping the LA crew. It seemed that Buffy had spread the world of the bite-less vampire fighting the forces of evil alongside the Scoobies. Nothing could be further from the truth.
He was fighting alongside Buffy to protect her from demons and vampires because he was in love with her.
Or so he had thought until a few weeks before.
Now he was confused.
And he didn't like it.
Just arrived in Los Angeles, he had asked Angel not to reveal Buffy he was there. He knew it was childish, but he hoped she cared enough to worry about him.
A little, at least.
Two months later, it was him who didn't care if she was worried.
Life was easier before the chip. He could have whatever, whoever he wanted.
He was not used to having needs, let alone to crave. When he felt a need he was able to satisfy it already.
Now Spike felt restrained and this was at odds with his vampire nature. And in these days he had also to deal with that kind of longing for his boy, that never abandoned him.
And since when Xander Harris, lord of losers, complete dork, annoying wanker, had become his boy?
“Come in, Spike. Have a seat.”
“Who do you think I am? A student at the principal's office?”
“I don't want to fight with you, Childe. I did call you just to ask you something.”
“What? You want me to leave?”
“You can stay here as long as you want. I just wanted to know, and I had to ask you the day you arrived, why are you here?”
“None of your business.”
“Of course not. But it would maybe help me to understand why you keep staying confined in your room, for six months now.”
“What's there to understand? I don't want to see your stupid face.”
“Spike, boy, can we just skip the part where you say that I'm not worth anything as a Sire and also the sarcastic comments about my hair and sense of fashion? Consider it done.”
“And lose all the fun?”
“Whatever, Spike. If it has something to do with that government chip -”
“Why do you care anyway?”
“You like it or not, we're family. I know you since the day you died, I was not there for you when you needed me in the past, but I'm here now and I can help.”
“You can't! You've never been there for me. Where were you when Dru left me? Where were you when the Initiative caught me? Where were you when Buffy humiliated me -”
“Let's leave Buffy out of this conversation, Spike.”
“I'd like to, but she's not the kind of girl you can let out of anything. “
“ I know, she is giving you a hard time, isn't she?”
“Well, yeah, she's the Slayer, it comes with the territory.”
“It's true, but she's more than that. “
“Oh please, still in love with her, aren't you? Brooding on the love you'll never have won't do you any good. Tell your damned soul to shut up and move on.”
“You really think I should accept love tips from you, Spike? When it comes to love you're like a child, always trying to please the ones you love, but never aware of what they need or feel.”
“What are you talking about? I took care of Dru's needs for over a century, isn't it enough awareness?”
“Drusilla's insane, Spike. That was babysitting, nursing at the most. But that's not the point. We are vampires, we were meant to bring chaos, mayhem and death on earth, we're not supposed to love. Love should be considered an annoying legacy of our previous human lives. And more often then not, it is just that. We must choose love.”
“We must choose love” Spike mimicked in a singsong.
“I bloody chose already! And as soon as I come back she will -” his train of thoughts was interrupted by the image forming in his own head.
Not the bright, petite, blond slayer, but the tall, dark-haired, puppy-eyed donut boy instead.
Then memories surfaced in his mind.
He remembered when Harris had thrown himself at a four-hundred pounds demon, knowing he has no chance to take it down, but just to give Spike the time he needed to get back on his feet. He remembered when a demon sword had opened his belly and the boy had fed him his blood to heal him faster. He had made a cut on his wrist and had put it in Spike's mouth without saying a word.
Above all, he remembered one night, almost dawn, when Xander had stopped him just as he was leaving the apartment and had asked him: You think one day you'll stay just to sleep? You snore, Harris, had been his reply, but he couldn't forget the deep sadness in the boy's eyes.
He dismissed thememories with a shrug and forced his attention back on the road, nervously thumping his hand on the wheel.
As soon as he stepped in his crypt, he was hit by a blond howling storm.
“What the f – Buffy, happy to see me?”
Buffy had him pinned on the dusty floor and was looking at him in disbelief.
“Yes, Spike! Yes, yes, yes! I was so worried, you were nowhere to be found, I was afraid I was not seeing you again, last time we've met I've treated you like shit and I felt so guilty.” She paused just a second, than said “I've missed you so much.”
Before Spike had time to recover from the shock, everything became a blur of hands, lips and legs entangled.
I've got you, Slayer, he said to himself, then his brain was not able to form any other intelligible thoughts.
After that first night, Buffy had asked him to hide in the crypt, until she was ready to tell her friends they were together and he had agreed, ultimately he had spent six months set apart in an hotel room in LA, a few more days could not change his un-life.
Spike had never been the introspective kind of guy and, being a vampire (all instincts and passion), it was perfectly understandable. So he did not even try to analyse how he felt in these days.
Sometimes, in the silence of the tomb, he seemed to hear the sound of Xander's genuine laughter and he was suddenly overwhelmed by longing and lust. Then Buffy was there, aggressive and demanding, meeting each of Spike's needs, and the boy disappeared from his mind.
Almost two weeks later, Spike was still hidden in there.
Buffy stopped by every night after patrolling, bringing him blood, cigarettes and sex, not strictly in this order.
But she seemed a little less happy every day.
And Spike was a little more fidget every day.
Buffy froze when she heard Xander's voice. She tried to cover her naked body but as soon as she did, he was already gone.
Spike didn't move, paralysed by the dismayed expression in Xander's eyes, expression that didn't macht at all the caustic words he was saying.
All Spike could think was “I hurt him once more”.
Buffy was trying to find her clothes, repeating “He saw us, he saw us” as a mantra.
She went after him one minute later, leaving Spike alone with his consternation.
When she came back, he was smoking with the same worried look as before.
“I don't love you, Spike”
“You never did, pet.”
“I think you don't love me anymore.”
He tried to deny it, but he simply couldn't.
“I knew it was you, Red. You are the only one actually knocking at my door instead of crashing in.”
“Don't try to be nice to me, Spike. I'm surely not inclined to be nice to you. At the moment I feel more likely to hit your head with a shovel.”
“If this is about the Slayer -”
“This is not about Buffy.”
“I see, so the boy spilled the beans after all.”
“No, he didn't. But I'm his best friend and I know him. I don't want to know whatever happened between you two, or between you and Buffy, but I love Xander and he's hurting. He buried himself in his apartment, he called in sick at work, he won't answer my phone calls and I've tried knoking on his door several times door but he won't open up.
I'm afraid his trying to do something stupid like starving to death, or worse.”
“Honestly I don't think -”
“Listen Spike, we are all worried about him, he needs to get out of the apartment, he needs to eat something, he needs someone to take care of him. But we can't help him against his will. Now you go to Xan's apartment and sneak in, I know you can do it. Then you put some sense into his stubborn head and make him accept our help. And I know you can do that too. And after that you leave him to me and his friends, who actually care about him.”
“Oi Red, I do care! Problem is that I'm not sure if he -”
“You go, now! You had six months to think about it and if you're still not sure, it means there's nothing to think about. Just go in and open the door so I can help him myself. Go!”
The first thing that struck him entering the apartment was the silence. No music, no TV, no laughter.
The second was the smell. He had always loved the smell in the boys apartment.
It was like sun and youthful enthusiasm, clean clothes and arousal.
Now it was pain all around.
His boy's pain.
For the first time in ages, he felt his demon surge, his eyes flashed yellow and his canines itched.
He silently approached the bedroom and took a look at Xander. He was still and pale.
Suddenly, all the feelings he had denied for too long hit him like a shot in the chest.
So this is what the pouf was talking about? He asked to himself and smiled. I'm a moron, but I'll make it up to you Xan, I promise.
Still smiling, he started to talk to his boy. He was now prepared to face the hurt, the rage, the resentment. Xander Harris never would have made things easier, but it was right for vampires too.
Still smiling, he sucked it up.