Archived at: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=rngrdead
Rating: Mature Audiences – for content and themes
Summary: Xander has PTSD after rescuing one too many slayers. Spike is recovering (sort of) after the battle with W&H. Fate may have it they eventually find each other - she's funny that way.
Spoilers: Sometime in season five AtS – and possibly late seven BtVS.
Warnings: M/M – if you don’t like boys together, don’t play here!
Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters nor make any money from stories etc, and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give the Buffy/Angel verse characters life.
Spike was instantly on his feet, as was Xander, their proximity to the door ensuring they were the first to be spotted by the entering thugs. Spike swiftly scanned the room for entry and exit points, weapons of any descriptions and calculated the risks to the room’s inhabitants according to size and perceived fighting ability. The older Franz might hold his own at a pinch, Leopold and the individual now standing to his right looked in pretty good shape and had their natural spines emerging as they too sized up the threat. Xander was a bit of an unknown quantity and Spike worried momentarily that his consort was out of battle form, until he saw the man grab his newly acquired walking cane, spin it once and stand at the ready.
Xander nodded to Spike then faced the door as their assailants approached, “Strategy?”
“Depends on their numbers, but we keep the ones who can’t fight in the back, and you keep me on your blind side for as long as you can. Don’t reckon these blokes ‘ve popped in for a polite chat…”
He fell silent and squared his shoulders as the door to the small rear room was slammed open.
The brutish, obviously human intruder to the fore of the group scowled as he spied what he assumed to be two humans standing amongst his intended quarry. He gave a mean smile as he addressed the group, focusing his attention on the older owner.
“Well, well … Business after hours I see. Quite the entrepreneur, aren’t we Franz. And foreigners to boot! Bet they pay a pretty penny for your goods.” The man kept walking forward until intruding old demon’s personal space. “My new friends here tell me you’ve been giving them a bit trouble when it comes to supplying their goods. Shame to turn away good customers I would have thought. So I did a little more research on you Franz… See you’re makin’ a pretty penny out of some very private type visitors. Be a shame if something should happen to any of them wanderin’ around the docks late now, wouldn’t it. So we’ve decided to take matters into our own hands, help out our friends here sort their liquid supplies and a pick up our payment for today… That way there’ll be no trouble for you, yeah? Anyway enough chat, I expect should be no problem since your rich boys here have no doubt paid cash, so time to pay up.”
As he was speaking, another three members of the raiding party had crowded into the room. From what Xander could make out that left two or perhaps three outside the door. Spike kept his eye on the main speaker, lightly touching Xander’s hand to get his attention, then muttered just loud enough for his lover to hear, “Three vamps, four humans” then addressed the heavily tattooed human, “Oi mate, how’s about you take your pansy arsed crew and go polish your heads or sommit, we’re kind of busy here. Old bloke was just gonna make us a nice cuppa.”
The burly speaker, now flanked by his companions, turned to address Spike and Xander directly in thickly accented English, “You, pretty boy, and your f* friend,” he spat at Spike’s feet, “have come at a wrong time. You want to make fight with us, is OK, we happy to you with the breaking also. So stay, stay…” He made a wide gesture with his arm then quickly turned his attention to Franz once more, this time grabbing the old man’s collar and forcing him up onto tiptoes as he ground out, again in his native tongue, “I told you, if you stay, you pay. So… As we agreed, I will have the money now, or your and your family’s blood goes to my new friends here as payment – if they’ll eat it.” Franz kept shaking his head and tried to speak whilst gasping for breath.
The large leader pulled the smaller demon up from the floor even further, causing Franz to turn a strange purplish color and his eyes to bulge as his air supply was cut off completely. “*You* are what is wrong with Europe. Bunch of dirty immigrant scum. Filthy half-breeds…” He nodded his shaved head to indicate to his gang members that it was time for action and after a moment’s pause, and with very little planning, obviously, three of the five intruders launched themselves at Spike, Xander and Franz’s family, with their two compatriots joining the melee as soon as they could get inside the, now very crowded, room.
The leader of the group all but threw Franz into the wall and the older man crumpled to the floor. One of the women at the rear of the room, pushed the other two down to crouch behind a cabinet while she edged herself low along the wall and, as best she could, pulled and tugged the collapsed Franz until he was unconscious but out of range of the fighting.
Spike had no time to worry about the old man, as the mouthy oaf decided that the blonde would be an easy early casualty. Spike simply sidestepped the first wild punch, and twisted away from the second, infuriating the skinhead who turned with an almighty roar and charged at his slighter opponent with murderous intent. Aware that space was limited and they were all engaged in the fighting, he decided to cut to the chase, allowed the man’s next punch to barely glance his cheek and used the slight over balance to his advantage, slamming a solid fist to the midriff followed by a classic upper cut, knocking his opponent out cold.
He had no time to gloat however as he looked over to see Leopold being held by one man whilst another began to punch and kick him. Leopold’s cousin was holding his own with a vampire, largely thanks to a wooden chair he was wielding like a lion tamer. Spike swiftly assessed the situation. The only member of the attacking group unoccupied was a weasel looking individual who had yet to join the fighting fully and, having witnessed their leader go down, seemed reluctant to participate.
Deciding the man might prove a reasonable source of information (perhaps due to his uncanny resemblance to a certain Willie of Sunnydale fame – if the man were a skin head), he dove across the room in full game face, grabbed the retreating figure by the scruff of the neck and growled, “Not so fast my pretty”, as he scraped his fangs across exposed skin. Spike was immediately aware of the reek of urine as the human wet himself then fainted in fright. Spike dropped him to the floor and launched himself at the humans still beating and kicking a now unconscious Leopold.
The humans hardly registered his arrival before one was screaming on the ground with a badly dislocated knee, and the other unconscious with a broken nose and arm. Spike then dispatched the vampire still menacing Leopold’s cousin by literally ripping his head from his shoulders to the stunned surprise of the part-human now facing him through a cloud of settling dust.
Xander had registered the attack almost before it happened and rather than his memories of other fights, insurmountable odds and casualties in times past stalling his actions, they had the opposite effect. He saw Spike struggling and the body of Franz go flying and felt a jolt of white fury and surge of adrenalin.
The consort took a fighting stance and initially used his cane as a defensive weapon as one of the humans clad in jeans, work boots and a PNOS T-shirt swung a short but heavy iron bar at his head. The cane shattered into three pieces, leaving Xander unharmed but holding two nice stakes, one in each hand. His assailant, still recovering from the swing of his weapon, had disengaged to make a grab for Leopold immediately behind Xander, leaving the Consort to face a vampire in full game face, who snarled and made a lunge for him. Instinct and far too many years as a Scoobie then watcher meant the result was a very surprised expression on the face of his assailant as wood met heart, before a cloud of dust drifted toward the floor.
He thought he was in the clear and was about to move to help Leopold who was on the ground, but was grabbed from his blind side by another vamp. His footing slipped and the remaining makeshift stake was knocked from his hand.
Caught in an iron grip but still struggling, he felt the fangs penetrate low down on the opposite side of his neck to Spike’s Consort mark. It was nothing like the erotic loving sting of his lover, instead a searing pain as flesh was ripped and torn carelessly then a horrid sucking sensation. He continued to struggle but was aware of the almost desperate speed of the draining as he began to see sparks and world greyed, though time seemed to be slower somehow.
Spike looked over in horror, having finished off the second vampire, to see his lover in the clutches and on the fangs of another. He literally flew across the room, wrenched the attacking figure away and flung him into a nearby wall. He caught Xander on the way down whilst picking up the dropped stake and slamming it into the stunned minion’s chest without even looking.
Spike slid to the floor, cradling his lover and made a quick scan of the room to determine that all immediate threats were dealt with and the other injured had help at hand. Spike had his hand over the bleeding bite, desperately tried to stem the flow of blood while keeping Xander’s head tilted back to keep the airway, which thankfully was not damaged, open. The blonde was so focused on his lover’s erratic heartbeat that he hardly registered the frantic phone calls to police, Franz’s personal physician and then the ambulance service.
Xander was floating. He thought he was in Spike’s arms and could vaguely hear his voice, but it was all too hard. He vaguely hoped Spike would know and remember how much Xander had really loved him, as his eyelids fell shut and he knew no more.
Spike felt the very new link with his Consort shut down like a punch in the solar plexus as Xander lost consciousness completely. His world narrowed to a single purpose. Lifting his hand from the wound and changing Xander’s position by lifting his knee where the brunette’s head rested, he assessed the jagged bite and made a swift decision. Red could worry about a soul later if things went arse up.
With a roar of anguish, Spike allowed tears to flow as he sliced his own wrist open with his fangs and held it against slightly open, lax lips as he fastened his mouth over the gaping wound. He initially sucked the horrid taste of the other vampire from the torn skin and spat it on the floor, then began to gently lave the torn edges to the middle and focus on the various cord-like tendons, ragged edges of ripped muscles, and the still pumping deep artery and oozing surface veins. Eventually the venous blood stopped and the nicked artery seemed to have mended enough for him to pull his mouth away.
Falling back into human guise and with tears now flowing freely, he struggled out of his over shirt whilst still cradling Xander carefully, and used it to apply pressure to the wound and stem further blood loss. He began to beg through almost sobs, “Please… Please! …Come on Xan… Oh Luv, come on swallow, please! Breathe or somethin’… Just hold on… for me…for us… we’ve only just found each other… come on…”
Spike felt Xander reflexively cough then swallow, and though the pale figure remained unconscious, his still too rapid heartbeat at least settled over the next minute or so and became a faint but steady one. He hadn’t died, or been turned… Spike gave a choked and ragged “Oh Xan...”, stroked back bloody locks from the palid face, and tried encourage a little more of his own red elixir from his wrist into the slack mouth.
His attention had been focused so much on the boy, no man, in his arms, that he had not registered the movements of the rest of the room’s inhabitants but was close enough to the assailant who had fainted when Spike confronted him to note the individual coming to and begin an attempt to crawl away.
Without dislodging Xander, the vampire’s arm flew out and grabbed a retreating ankle still within reach. He yanked it back hard, bringing its owner toward them. What ensued was a short struggle before one of the women noticed the frantic scrabbling and raced to Spike’s aid. She stamped an angry foot hard down on the man’s backside, squashing his nether regions against the floor, and before he could recover, had one then two wrists behind his back and efficiently secured using an electrical cord.
She smiled up at Spike, “There. I’m Hattie by the way, we sort of didn’t get introduced.”
Spike responded with a polite nod then scanned the room. It seemed the other three humans had also been secured in situ, all now face down with ankles and wrists bound by whatever had come to hand. The leader of the group continued to spout obscenities though Spike noted with some satisfaction that his words were slurred and he was being largely ignored.
Hattie touched Spike’s arm gently, causing him to hiss with pain. “You’re hurt!”
He looked down. There was a large gash across his bicep that was oozing blood sluggishly. “Don’t know when that happened. ’m alright Pet. Boy here’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll wager ‘e needs a hospital ‘n transfusion pronto.”
“We’ve called the police, and an ambulance. Leopold is in a bad way and Franz… he has a weak heart you see. Our own doctor will be on hand to help. He… well he knows about our ‘other’ status so questions won’t be too many.”
As she spoke Spike heard sirens approaching in the distance and within minutes the room was full of police and emergency service workers of all descriptions.