Sweet Revenge
Part 28
The sound of footsteps roused Spike from his drifting state of half awareness. Not that the footsteps were loud or that it was even so unusual to hear them. With Sunnydale's large demonic population it was fairly standard to hear some activity in the day as vampires tried to get from place to place. However it was rare that anyone came towards a tunnel that was clearly a dead end. Besides something about these footsteps bothered him. Maybe it was how quiet they were. Like it was someone, or something trying very hard not to be heard.
Spike slowly eased himself up from his prone position, crouching, his ears straining. It was still there, the overcareful lift and lowering of the feet that someone made when they didn't want to be heard. They were just around the corner now. Usually he'd light up a smoke and be waiting, ready for a fight, cocky attitude firmly nailed in place, but he was hungover and sore from the bash he'd taken in the face last night and inexplicably fearful of whatever was out there. Although his body was rooted to the spot his mind felt fuzzy, sliding out from his grasp. This felt almost surreal, like a typical kiddie's nightmare of something coming to get him. And it was getting closer.
Spike looked helplessly around the tunnel he had holed up in. Small and bare there was nowhere to hide and no way out bar the way that someone was in front of. The only concealment available was some deep shadows by the entrance. He swallowed. Shit. He didn't want to move *closer* to the thing out there.
/Move it!/ He snapped at himself, trying to jolt his frozen feet into action. /Any second it's going to come in and see me and something tells me that would be A Bad Thing./
His reluctant feet slowly inched their way over. Each tiny scuffle sounded like a thunderclap in the quiet. He didn't think whoever it was had heard him though, their pace remained unchanged, but they were still getting closer. Spike pressed himself against the wall of the tunnel, sinking into the shadows. If whoever it was came in there was a chance they'd walk past him before they saw him and he'd be able to run for it or attack them before they turned on him. He didn't know why he was so sure it was him they were after. Maybe they weren't. Maybe it was just a vampire looking for a place to sleep. Walking very quietly.
It wasn't the Slayer though, she smelt like vanilla. Whatever this thing was it smelt bad, like rotting rubbish that had been left to fester. Nearly here now. Slow and even quieter than before. Every inch of Spike tensed further, coiled and ready to pounce as the footsteps began to turn into his tunnel.
"Find anything?"
A male voice, loud and incautious broke the silence suddenly. It was hard to tell who started more violently, Spike or whatever it was looking around here. Fortunately the sound of one muffled the noise of the other.
A choked gasp from the first ... thing suggested to Spike he was having difficulty getting his words out.
"Don't *do* that!" It spluttered at last. "What are you *doing* down here?"
Spike stayed utterly frozen, he didn't dare to even blink. The voices couldn't be more than eight inches away, just air and shadows between them and although they didn't sound particularly lethal something about them made his spine prickle unpleasantly.
"I was looking for you!" The second said affronted. "Why did you volunteer to come down here?"
"It's safer than watching the Slayer like you're supposed to be doing."
Spike felt his stomach lurch hard, even though he remained motionless. These things were hanging around the Slayer? What the hell was going on?
"She's gone away with her Watcher, that's why I came down here to find you. I was going to tell Glorificus, I um wondered if you would come with me."
Spike's mouth went dry, so these were Glory's boys, though what the hell they were looking for down here was anyone's guess, they surely didn't think the key was down here did they?
"Oh no - I'm not coming while Glory kills you for letting the Slayer get away."
"I didn't let her!" The second protested. " I heard her say she'll be back tomorrow, besides Glorificus could well be pleased, until she returns the key is unprotected."
"Which would help if we knew who the key was." The first snapped.
"So will you come with me?" The second asked nervously.
"Oh alright." The other agreed ungraciously.
They turned away and their footsteps, no longer cautious retreated, eventually fading from his hearing. Spike stayed pressed against the wall for a long moment as he shuddered - that had been way too close.
So Buffy was out of town for a couple of days with the Watcher in tow? Now that wasn't the kind of information that fate just planted in your hands without expecting you to use it in some way. Although Dru's habit of reading signs into everything, even watermarks on the ceiling, had occasionally bugged the hell out of him, every now and then she had been bang on. He'd been *meant* to hear that. Now he just had to figure out what to do with it.
***
It was the worst idea he'd ever had. Of all the insane ill thought out, half cocked plans he'd ever come up with this had to be top of the list. But hey, what did he really have to lose anymore? He'd already lost everything. If this went badly and he ended up coming across the business end of a stake then it would probably be a blessing. But not until he'd had his say.
The fact was that despite that he *ached* to run straight to Xander, if he turned up with no warning and Xander was still as pissed as he had been, he'd be dust before he got his words out. He needed someone who could break the news to Xander that he was still in town, convince Xander that he was genuine, persuade Xander to meet him ...
Basically he needed someone to be on his side, but the only people that would have any influence on Xander were the Scoobies, and they were the whole problem. That left very few people. He'd sunk so low he'd even have begged for help from Soldier Boy if he'd still been around. Joyce was dead and Tara would follow wherever Willow led. No one else came into contact with Xander except his work pals, demons he was helping to kill and Dawn.
Dawn - whose very protective, very powerful, very pissed off older sister had gone out of town.
He cautiously rounded the ground floor apartment Tara and Willow shared, crouched so low he was nearly on his knees. The fresh air and nerves mixed with a painful shaking excitement made him weak, and despite his need to find Dawn, now, right away he forced himself to rest. To just stay *still*. There was no way he'd get to her like this, never mind convince her not to yell for the others. This was already dangerous enough - talk about confronting the lion in its den - without him passing out in the garden for the witches or sunrise to find.
Or one of Glory's boys.
There had to be one here somewhere, if they were watching Buffy and searching the sewers they must be keeping a close eye on Buffy's friends as well.
He scanned the outside of the building closely but this side was in darkness, he steeled himself and peered around the corner where a light spilled out from a window. There he was. The scabby little reject was skulking around behind a bush by the lighted window. Spike paused for a moment to make sure he stayed utterly calm and quiet, then silently sneaked up behind him. The scent of flowers and freshly cut grass was strong but the stink of the demon was even stronger. Spike grabbed him, clamping one hand over his mouth, the other pinning his arms back, and dragged him back away from the window. He managed a surprised gasp before Spike swiftly broke his neck.
Spike shoved the body under a bush, trying to control his heaves. He wiped his hands frantically on the grass, the skin of these things felt *foul* like sandpaper with open oozing sores. He glanced around again; the garden was utterly still, utterly silent under the moonlight. It was kind of beautiful and for a second he felt oddly like crying. He *had* to get Xander back, he just *had* to.
/C'mon/ he chastised himself. /Miles to bloody go and all that, just got to get to Dawn, then to Xander, then .../
His mind blanked out, When he was face to face with Xander then he could worry about what was going to happen next.
He crouched under the window of the front room and carefully eased his head up. Tara and Willow were curled up on the couch holding hands, and Dawn was sprawled out in the chair, watching T.V and looking a little bored.
Excitement churned violently inside him and he had to force himself to stay down, to stay *quiet*. She was actually here! True the options to where she could be had been limited but still, his half-formed plan was actually approaching being a real possibility. Luck *finally* seemed to be running on his side. Dawn was yawning and examining her fingernails now, it wouldn't be long ...
Sure enough the next moment he heard Dawn say;
"Hey guys can I go play some music?"
"Sure Dawnie." Willow replied.
Spike shifted from under the window and followed her around the house to the bedroom. He could see her through the window rooting through the c.d.'s and tapes they had and for a moment the world swirled disturbingly grey and misty.
He bit his lip until he could taste blood and the colour came back into the world. He braced himself against the wall and lifted his hand to knock quietly on the glass.
***
Dawn brushed her hair in front of the mirror, humming along with an old tape Willow still had of the Dingo's and trying to stem the restless feeling inside her. She loved staying with Willow and Tara, it would just be nice to *do* something for a change, like the Bronze. She totally got the 'be careful' vibe, but still, all these quiet nights in were getting boring. She'd had to fight tooth and nail to go to the movies, with Xander, in daylight! She idly ran the brush over her hair watching the strands lift and fall. Mom had loved brushing her hair. A wave of sadness was threatening to overwhelm her when a gentle tap came at the window making her heart leap up into her throat. She whirled around, dropping the brush in a clatter, her lips parted to yell for the others when she saw it was Spike.
"Spike!"
She still felt a moments worry, even though Spike was still harmless and didn't have an invite to anyone's house anymore, Buffy had been pretty definite about not talking to him if he showed up. She hovered uncertainly by the mirror, ignoring his frantic shushing gestures.
"What are you doing here?" She eyed him suspiciously, her arms folded, fixing him with a stern glare she'd been practising in the mirror. It wasn't up to Buffy's standard yet but she was still pretty pleased with it.
"Shhh!" Spike held his finger against his lips looking panicked, and beckoned her over to the window.
Dawn rolled her eyes but walked over to the window, still half prepared to yell for Willow. However when she got her first good look at Spike she gave a horrified gasp. His pale skin was faintly blotched with the yellow and purple of fading bruises, his nose was slightly bent out of shape and his cheeks, always thin, now looked as though someone had taken a scoop to them and hollowed them out. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked painfully tired.
"Spike," she whispered, opening the window. "What *happened* to you?"
"Got on the wrong side of Big sis."
"Yeah I should say so, what's going on? Buffy thinks you've left town, Giles is ready to stake you, Xander looks like the living dead. . ."
"You've seen him?" Spike interrupted eagerly.
"No, I heard Buffy and Willow talking." Dawn took a wary step back. She wasn't afraid of Spike ... exactly. But he looked terrible, and a little out of it, like those crazy men Glory was leaving a trail of behind her.
"Oh." Spike slumped against the window frame as though all the energy had been drained from him and Dawn couldn't help a surge of sympathy for him.
"Dawnie? Are you okay?" Willow opened the door, and Dawn whirled around to face her, her heart thumping uncomfortably in her chest.
"I'm fine Willow," she said brightly. "Just you know - singing along with the music."
"Oh, okay." Willow smiled at her before closing the door.
Dawn turned back to the window, where Spike cautiously got to his feet from throwing himself hastily on the ground.
"Close." Spike brushed himself off with shaking hands. "Thanks," he said gratefully. "For not saying anything."
Dawn shrugged. "It's not like you can get in. So why are you here?"
"I needed to talk to you - now I know you were a bit pissed with me ..."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Understatement! I thought we were friends, sort of, but you were just trying to get to Buffy."
"What can I tell you Bit? I was a wanker. Sorry."
"You're apologising to me?"
"Yeah," Spike said with an ironic lift of his eyebrow, a flash of his old self that was almost painful to see in his current state. "Don't make me repeat it alright?"
Dawn felt a smile begin to pull at her mouth. Spike pressed on. "So - you want to be mates again?"
"Is this still a 'get to Buffy' thing?" Dawn questioned suspiciously.
"Little Bit," Spike said, with a slightly odd tone to his voice, "you have no idea how much I've moved on from your sis."
Dawn couldn't help melting inside despite Buffy's warnings, Spike was so cool - and kind of handsome - even when he was exhausted and beat up, and he'd come here to make up with *her*.
She smiled reluctantly at him. "Well ... I did kind of miss you."
"You too luv." Spike looked at her so gratefully she felt a little uncomfortable. Okay so they were cool again but Spike was looking at her like she was offering him the keys to Giles's car ... or something better.
Dawn shifted awkwardly. "Sooooo were you just drawn here to apologise or was there something else?"
"I need you to do something for me. Can you ..." Spike stopped, swallowed and Dawn found herself leaning forward a little closer.
"Can you give Xander a message?" Spike finished.
For a second Dawn was disappointed, she'd expected something a lot more exciting than that. "Yeah I'm going to see him tomorrow. But only if you tell me what's going on."
"You haven't heard anything?"
"No," Dawn rolled her eyes. The key she may be, but she still had the heart of a teenager. "Nobody tells me anything. All I know is a while back they were all getting antsy in case you were up to something then all at once everyone's being weird about you, which probably means that you were up to something." She fixed him with a questioning look. "So what did you do - spy on Buffy in the shower? Steal Xander's money? I mean that's about as bad as you can get isn't it?"
She used a light tone to cover up her worry - because she really *had* missed Spike and didn't want whatever it was he'd done to be *too* bad, and with all the worry the others had been having that he'd done something to upset Xander ... well she loved Xander, if Spike had been mean to him she didn't know if they could be friends again.
"It is to do with Xander. I ..." Spike stalled, cleared his throat and tried again. "I ... used him too, to try and get to Buffy. That's why Buffy and pals are out for my blood, that's why he's upset."
"Oh." Dawn said quietly.
"But I'm sorry," Spike said hurriedly, maybe reading her uncertainty on her face. "And I want him to know that. That's the message. Will you tell him?"
Dawn thought for a moment then nodded. "Okay, but why don't you just go over and see him now?"
"I need him softened up a bit first - which is why I need you Little Bit, and ..." Spike stumbled on the words again as though he was having to painfully carve each one out of stone. "Tell him I'll be at my crypt tomorrow night at nine if ... if he wants to see me."
"Okay." Dawn agreed again.
"If he doesn't show then I'll go - get out of town. Won't bother him again."
"You're really going to go?" Dawn blurted out dismayed. Spike may be an idiot - hey falling for Buffy was pretty stupid after all - and call her the 'Little Bit' but he never *treated* her like she was little and now they were friends again - or as much friends as you could ever be with Spike - she didn't want him gone.
"Yeah. If he doesn't come."
"Oh - well I'll try and get him there."
"You promise?"
"Yeah."
"And you won't tell anyone else about this?"
"Well duh! Spike I'm not stupid. Oh fine." She crossed her heart. "I'll give him your message and I won't tell anyone else about this. Promise."
Spike finally managed a smile. "Thanks." He shivered slightly suddenly, although it was a warm night. "Well, I'd better go. Don't want you getting into trouble."
"I can do what I want," Dawn huffed offended.
Spike's eyebrows raised themselves in an 'oh yeah?' look. She rolled her eyes and finished a little sheepishly; "They're watching some documentary about witches, they'll be there for hours. I can't invite you in but you can hang around for a bit." She tried to sound cool and like she didn't really care either way. "If you want, I don't mind."
He hung around at that window for an hour. Dawn carefully brought him a brimming mug of hot chocolate which they shared. They chatted quietly and she told him it was 'creepy' knowing Glory was looking for her - he didn't tell her about the lackey in the garden - and about a guy at school who was 'kind of okay'. Her hair smelt like coconut and despite the risk of being here, for the first time in over a week he felt a smile on his face and he wasn't thinking about the sunrise.
***
A minion staggered into Glory's chamber panting with exertion. From her reclining position on her bed propped up on silken pillows and surrounded by lackey's Glory looked at him with an expression of disgust.
"Uggh! Get out of here, you're all stinky!"
"Oh most exquisite and ..."
"I said get out!"
"But I bring you good news! I have found him, the one who knows who the key is!"
"What?" Glory leapt up in delight, beaming at him. "You have him? Now? Well that's good news! I was about to start brain sucking to cheer myself up, bring him on!"
"Well I uh, don't have him *with* me. But ..."
Glory stared at him, her smile fading. "You let him get away?" Her voice was dangerously calm, her eyes promising torture beyond his worst nightmares as she slowly came towards him.
"No! No, I didn't let him get away, he killed the other I was watching with, I was lucky he didn't see me. I didn't dare to take him on my own, lest he stole my miserable life - and thus depriving you of good news, most worshipped one! But I listened as he talked to the Slayer's sister."
"Alright." Glory asked, still calmly as she ran her hands lightly over his robe. "So where is he now?"
"Well as to now I was unable to follow him, I wanted to bring you the news, but Iknowwherehe'sgoingtobe!" This last was choked out in a last frantic breath as Glory's hand closed around his throat.
"What?" She released her grip. "You know where he's going to be?"
He nodded.
"Well this is perfect!" She turned to look at the others, beaming at them, and they returned her smile, relieved beyond words at her obvious happiness. "We'll send some of you boys to meet him!"
***
Xander checked around his apartment. It was clean; all the broken glass had been thrown away. His arm was bandaged up and he was okay. Well, okay was pushing it. But he hadn't had a drink yet today and hadn't had another close encounter with a piece of glass. He stomach heaved as he thought of it. Everytime his sore arm chafed against the bandage he flinched and not just because of the pain. Had he really thought Spike was going to save him? That was what happened when you let the hate down - more pain, he should have learnt that by now. If Buffy hadn't called when she did ...
He didn't want to think about it but his mind was filled to the brim of stuff he didn't want to think about - try as he might to keep it down sometimes thoughts sprung up in his mind. He automatically reached for the bottle hidden in the cupboard, then hurriedly snatched his hand away. He couldn't drink now - not with Dawn coming round any second for their movie.
He liked to think he would have stopped on his own, but would he have? He didn't want to die, but he couldn't bear to live like this either. It felt like Spike had taken a piece of glass to his heart and he was still bleeding, drowning from the inside out.
There was a knock at his door and he cast a last longing look at the alcohol before tearing himself away. He opened the door, managing a smile.
"Dawnster! Hey Willow."
"Package for you," Willow grinned, gesturing at Dawn.
"Hey Xander," Dawn said perkily, her eyes and hair were glowing. She always seemed so glad to see him. So young and alive. For a second he totally got what Buffy was talking about. If Glory hurt Dawn then she had to die. It was just that simple.
"Come in ladies."
He ushered them in hoping they couldn't smell any alcohol that may have been lingering in the room.
"Hey Xander, can I get a drink?" Dawn asked.
Xander tried to remember the last time he'd bought anything without an alcohol content. " Check the fridge Dawn, if you can track anything down and capture it - it's yours." Xander gestured towards the kitchen, and Dawn threw him a smile as she went to investigate.
"So Xander, what movie are we going to see?" Dawn called in.
"Anything you want Dawnster, even a chick flick."
"Cool! I know a couple of good ones! There's this one where this girl wants this guy to ask her out but he doesn't, but then he ..."
Xander groaned and turned to Willow. "Why did I say she could choose?"
"You should know better than to let a teenage girl have so much power," Willow agreed seriously.
They smiled at each other before Willow's face changed into a serious, worried frown. "How are you doing?" She asked in a low voice.
"I'm . . ."
"And don't you're fine or you're coping. Yell, or punch something - punch *me*, but don't say you're fine."
Xander dropped his eyes, suddenly very aware of his arm throbbing dully, reminding him of just how far from 'fine' he was. "It's hard," he admitted. "And awful. And every day."
"I know." She patted his shoulder gently, unable to hug him, hampered by Dawn being so close. "Xander ... I didn't know if I should tell you this or not, you didn't seem to want to hear it, and Buffy thought it would be a bad idea but, well Spike came to see me. You know, that day, before you found out. He wanted me to promise not to tell you about the Buffy thing. He said he loved you and couldn't do it."
"Oh." Xander said quietly. "Actually he came to see me, that day. The day I found out. He said pretty much the same thing."
"Oh. Does it help?" Willow asked warily.
"Not really."
Willow looked at him with worry. "But don't you think maybe ...?"
No, he couldn't think maybe, thinking maybe drove him crazy, opened him up to all the pain all over again and he was *filled up* with pain - couldn't take anymore, he had to just keep closed, even if Spike *had* loved him at the end it didn't help. He couldn't let go of how this had started. How he'd been nothing but a toy. How Spike had still kept all that stuff, so close to the bed.
"Xander there's nothing here!" Dawn yelled.
"I'll take you for a shake!" Xander shouted back, suddenly desperate to get out of here. "You know," he turned back to Willow, "I think we'd better head off. Dawnster! Let's go!"
"Okay!"
"Xander," Willow said hurriedly. "I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing - I was only trying to help you."
"No it's okay Will, but none of this matters anymore. I hate him." Willow didn't look convinced so he said it again. "I hate him."
***
Xander settled down in the booth opposite Dawn, watching with a slight smile as she gamely set about drinking a shake almost as big as she was. Despite his initial worry about today it was proving better - much better than he'd thought. She was easy to be with, her bright chatter soothing. She offered him some of her chocolate shake. To please her he sipped a little and at her smile his throat unclenched a little, enough so for the first time in a while something other than alcohol slipped down his throat without choking him.
Dawn was going on about how Buffy was on this retreat for 'some Slayer reason she doesn't think I'm old enough to understand' and how it was so nice to get out the house without being cross examined, and then she asked curiously;
"What's that?"
Xander looked at where Dawn was staring. His sleeve had been pushed back and the bandage showed.
"It's nothing. I was running with glass. Fell. It smashed," he lied awkwardly, not meeting her eyes.
"Ow." Dawn said sympathetically.
"Just a quick ride to the fun room known as casualty and a couple of stitches," he said recovering his composure. "No big deal. And let that be a lesson to you." He tweaked at her hair. "It really does happen!"
Dawn squirmed under his teasing, pretending to be pissed off. "Hey quit it! Listen, I've got something to tell you."
"Oh yeah?" He continued to make a grab for the little sparkly clip she had in her hair. She shrieked and jumped away, fixing him with a fake glare, her eyes dancing with laughter. He kept his eyes fixed on that laughter. It made the image of the glass slicing into his skin fade away. "What have you got to tell me?" Thinking she'd spilt juice on a sweater of Buffy's that she shouldn't have been wearing or had a sneaky kiss with a guy maybe - there was an air of suppressed excitement about her.
"I saw Spike."
His hand dropped away from Dawn as the room turned grey, his heart thudding sickly in his chest.
"What?"
"I saw him last night."
It wasn't real. This couldn't be happening, any minute now he'd wake up. Except he could still taste the shake in his mouth and feel the grain of the table under his shocked nerveless hands. He felt sick. Real twisting nausea from shock.
"What did he say?" His lips were numb and the words came out stiff and slowly.
"He said he couldn't leave until he'd got things straight with you. He said you guys had a fight and he was really sorry, Xander are you okay?"
Someone was messing with the colour and sound dial on this room, now it wasn't grey and quiet, it was suddenly so bright and loud he couldn't breathe properly and his head was roaring. Someone had turned up the pressure in here and any minute now he was going to faint.
"What else did he say?" He managed to ask, ignoring her question.
"That he'd been trying to get to Buffy through you but once he'd got to know you he couldn't do it, but you'd found out somehow and he's really, really sorry. He told me to say the 'really, really' part . . .Xander? Will you see him?"
"I don't ... uh, I can't." Xander floundered desperately. "You should tell Buffy he's still here. Tell her now."
Dawn looked at Xander uncertainly. "Xander Buffy's away remember? And I promised I wouldn't tell. I crossed my heart and everything. He said if you didn't want to see him he was going to go anyway so it wouldn't matter. But can't you guys make up?"
"No."
"But Xander he is *really* sorry ... "
"He's lying, he's playing some game, he shouldn't *be* here!"
Dawn jerked back in her seat, she looked a little scared, and he managed to stop himself from shouting at her but he was sweating, shaking, and he didn't know what to *do*. He buried his head in his hands, trying to control nausea inside him, calm himself down.
Dawn tentatively reached out her hand, but then stopped short of touching Xander - she suddenly felt way out of depth on this one, too much mysterious, grown up stuff swirling around. " But ..." she began cautiously.
"Dawn," Xander's voice sounded weird, angry and choked up and there was something else in there as well. " I don't *want* to see him. I wish he'd never come here. I wish I'd never met him."
"Xander I know Spike can be an idiot but you didn't see him! He looks ... well kind of like you. And if you both look so bad, maybe making up will help. Wouldn't it?"
Xander was still staring down at the table, his eyelashes covering his eyes and she couldn't read him.
"Wouldn't it?" She repeated.
Xander finally looked up and Dawn felt herself turn pale, His eyes were full of tears, she'd never seen Xander cry, ever. But it wasn't that, it was him, he looked like he was hurting all over, with something so awful and painful for a moment it felt like a freezing cold hand was running over her soul.
"Xander I'm sorry ..."
"I can't talk about this Dawn, he's meant to be gone. He should be gone ..."
"Okay" Dawn said rapidly, only wanting to make him stop looking like that. "Okay, so just don't meet him, and he'll go away. That's pretty easy isn't it?"
***
Easy. Right. But he wasn't going to tell a fourteen-year-old girl about the gay lovin' aspect to him and Spike, even if she was really a few millennia old. And she had a point; all he had to do was not turn up. He shouldn't go. All the way through the film that he didn't see or hear he knew that. All the way driving a mostly quiet Dawn back to Willow's he knew that. All the while he paced about his apartment waiting for the sun to set, for the clock to move forward he knew that. Waiting for nine. Once nine was over Spike would really be gone. But just before it hit nine he jumpily slung his coat on and left the house. Walking to the crypt felt like he was caught underwater pulled along by a current he couldn't fight. Even though he was walking quickly the movement felt slow. Sounds drifted into him from a long way away, his head oddly disconnected from his body.
When he reached the door to Spike's crypt he paused outside it. His eyes burned and he briefly rested his forehead against the cool stone. How had he gotten here? How had he gotten so hurt, so messed up? Even now it wasn't too late. He could turn back and go home, try and pick up a normal life again. He didn't know why he'd let himself be drawn here. Maybe it was the same urge that had prompted him to pull back the curtain, he didn't want to look but he couldn't stop himself. Maybe he just had a few things to say to Spike, because he couldn't go on like this, this wasn't a life it was torture. And maybe there was a tiny part of him that just wanted to hear some magic words that would put all this right. Easing the heavy door open he stepped into the crypt. It smelt musty. Old.
Spike's hair reflected off the light of Xander's torch, his pale face seemed to swim out of nowhere, the face that had haunted him. The face he thought he would never see again. They were both still, silent. The weird quality of the torch light bouncing around the crypt, the silence and the sight of Spike all gave him the confusing feeling of being in a dream. Spike looked so, so terrible. In a weird way it only heightened his allure. His eyes were burning in a pale, much thinner face; he looked macabre and beautiful. And for a second, just a second he wanted to take those few steps forward. Bury into Spike's arms and turn the clock back, tell him; 'oh I missed you, I missed you so much ... '
But the memory of drawing back the curtain kept his mouth clamped shut and his feet rooted to the ground as the anger poisonous and ugly, thick and bitter twisted inside him. The dream feeling drained away, now he felt gritty and harsh, sore all over. Maybe Spike did want him back. And that was good, because how he had a weapon, something he could use to beat Spike black and blue, tear into him and make *his* heart bleed. He was glad Spike looked awful. He wanted Spike to feel awful. He'd been through hell and he wanted to kill the creature standing in front of him. Wanted Spike to ache, beg for him and know that he could never have him. Hurt Spike as much as Spike had hurt him. Hurt him until he cried, begged for it to stop, but it never would.
***
Spike waited in the crypt, growing colder and more certain that Xander wasn't going to come. This day had been endless, agonising, and as nine came and went with no Xander arriving a sick despair filled him. Every second that passed beyond it was killing him a little at a time, taking Xander further away from him. He had to leave town, it didn't matter where. It really was over. Xander hadn't come. How could pain take up so much *room*? It was inside him, choking him, spilling up and over and no hope left.
He still waited though, pacing about the crypt, unable to bring himself to leave because if he did - then that really was the end of everything. Then suddenly, incredibly, he heard his heartbeat - smelt him, just beyond the door. Spike stared, frozen to the spot paralysed by hope and trepidation as the door finally eased open and he was there. Dark and silver, almost an extension of the moonlight. Spike felt weak, drained suddenly as if all his energy the past endless week had been poured into waiting to see him again and now he was here his strength had deserted him. Xander's lips were pinched, his hair dishevelled and his clothes crumpled. He looked pale and tired; his vitality stripped away, his energy cut to the bone. And he was beautiful.
The silence stretched out. Although Xander was here, somehow he seemed further away than when he hadn't seen him. He looked distant, removed from his reach, and Spike had never wanted him as badly as he did now.
"Xander." He couldn't stop himself from taking a step towards him, but when Xander swiftly took a step back he forced himself to stay still, stay calm, stay in control. Xander was *here*, that would do for now. He wanted to touch him desperately, but he was terrified to move in case it scared him off, terrified to talk in case he said the wrong thing. His tongue felt like it had detached from his mouth. It wouldn't work.
"You came." Spike said at last.
"I came." Xander's voice was utterly expressionless.
"I'm glad you're here."
"Are you?" Xander's voice didn't rise but Spike found himself flinching back. There was a simmering anger gathering in the air between them, black and heavy like a storm cloud and it was all coming from Xander.
"Look," he began nervously. "I don't know what Red or Slayer told you about this but they couldn't have told you the whole story."
"Nobody told me anything Spike, they didn't have to. I saw it. I saw it all."
"You saw . . ." Spike asked confused.
"Your Buffy stalker closet."
"Oh God no." Spike heard his horrified voice as though from a long distance away. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I burnt it. I burnt it all that day."
Xander shrugged.
"I'm sorry." Spike whispered.
"You're *sorry*?" Xander repeated, his voice riddled with a bitter anger and Spike realised with a sick thud that there was no way this was going to have a happy ending. Xander was drowning, unable to hear, see anything right now but his own pain, any apology would just drift uselessly past him.
"Do you have any idea what it was like finding that?" Xander continued, his voice shaking. "Knowing that I'd spent the night with you and all that was just a few steps away, and how could I have been so *stupid* and all that *shit* I talked and all the time you wanted *her* ... "
"No, I didn't," Spike pleaded. Yeah he was Loves Bitch. What of it? He'd beg on his knees if it would get Xander back. "I didn't want her from the start, it was all about you. You got inside my head, you're in my heart. In my gut. You're part of me now, I can't *be* without you. I can't say it right I don't have the words, but if you could *feel* what I feel. That night I told you the truth. Give me another chance, I'm not a monster."
"Yes - you are a monster. Vampires are monsters."
"Alright you've got me there - but I swear I'll never let you down again ... "
"Yeah and I remember you promising you'd never hurt me again and I believed you! How stupid was I?" Xander laughed sourly, then abruptly stopped, too angry to even use the pretence of amusement. " How many chances do you want Spike? Because you've used every one up and more. The only reason I came here tonight was to tell you to stay away from me."
"No." Spike stepped closer to him, touching close. Searching his face frantically for something - some part of Xander in there that he *knew* still loved him. "If you wanted to tell me that all you had to do was not show up. That's not the only reason. I couldn't feel like this without you feeling it to. I know you still love me. I know it i ..."
The punch was so hard, so quick he didn't see it coming. Even if he had he wouldn't have dodged it. He flew back crashing to the floor with a bone jarring thud.
Xander's face swam over him. "*That* is the only reason I have for seeing you!" He spat the words out, his voice trembling as he physically shook with emotion.
"Get up!"
Spike shook his head, a lone tear making it's way down his cheek.
"I said GET UP!"
Xander grabbed him by his T-shirt, hauling him up to his feet. He was deathly pale and sweating coldly.
"I *hate* you." His voice shook with the violence of his feelings, he was gripping Spike's T-shirt so hard his knuckles were white. "You're an evil, disgusting *thing* and I feel sick that I let you touch me." He hauled Spike even closer to him so they were barely three inches apart. "You want me back Spike?"
Spike raised his head and looked Xander in the eyes. "Yes."
"You want me back so much it hurts? So much it rips you apart not to have me?"
"It's killing me being without you," Spike said, his voice wavering.
"Good. Because this is the closest you'll ever get to me again. You're going to leave town tonight. You'll never come near me, or Dawn, or any of my friends again, and I hope it hurts. I'm glad it hurts."
Xander expected almost any reaction from Spike but what happened next. He started laughing. *Laughing*.
Spike's eyes were burning way too brightly as he hung, unresisting in Xander's grip. "You always hurt the one you love hey pet? The way I see it we must love each other one hell of a lot. We couldn't tear each other apart like this if we didn't."
To his dismay Xander felt his face begin to crumple. The anger still burned inside him, but now there was sorrow as well. Overwhelming, heartbreaking sorrow.
"Don't," he whispered.
"It's true. You love me. I love you."
"No!"
"It's *true*!" Spike's hands came up to cover his, and to his shame he didn't shake him off.
"Admit it." Spike said, staring into his eyes. Those blue eyes that made him *ache* inside. "You still want me. Still love me. Passion like this - you can't fight it."
"Watch me." Xander said quietly. "I want you *away* and if that means killing you - well that's just a bonus."
They faced each other - Xander pale and grim, Spike with helpless tears burning in his eyes, wishing desperately for some magical words to arrive fully formed in his brain that could fix this when the door flew open. The smell hit Spike immediately. Glory's boys. A whole posse of them.
"Gentlemen," the guy in the lead said smoothly. "I'm so sorry to intrude but I wondered if I might beg a moment of your time."
Spike didn't like the way this guy was looking at them. Sort of smug, his eyes darting between them, taking in how close they were, the atmosphere, drawing his own conclusions. Add this to the fact that these guys had just barged in on them and well the whole situation stunk as bad as the demons did. What the hell was going on? Had this whole damn thing been a set up to get him to come out of hiding?
"Friends of yours?" He asked Xander bitterly.
The first guy punched Xander in the stomach.
"Guess not!" And that meant he could hurt them. How *dare* this scummy wanker touch Xander? Spike felt a growl well up, bursting into action he kicked the demon hard in the chest.
/See how you like it you *bastard*!/
Xander groaned and managed to straighten up in spite of his kidneys feeling hot and heavy like they might just fall loose of their place in his body. Spike was fighting viciously, like something possessed, but there were so many of them he was surrounded.
"Spike! Get off him you ..."
He staggered over managing to grab one of them who immediately whacked him across the face, he flew back, sliding across the floor. The whole scene was beginning to feel like a nightmare where no matter how hard you tried to get to something it always remained just out of reach, but he had to get over there - he had to help ...
Spike saw Xander hit the floor and a red mist of screaming fury and fear that Xander was hurt descended over his eyes he fought like ... well like a demon kicking, punching even harder trying to crush, destroy, *kill* these things that had touched Xander, he had to get Xander away from them ... but some of them managed to grab him from behind, pinning his arms down.
"Tie his hands! Glory will want him restrained!"
Rope chafed his wrists and damn it Xander the brave bloody idiot was coming back for another go! This time Spike heard the crunch as the demons fist connected with Xander's chin, he hit the floor and lay there, unmoving.
/Oh God no/
"Goddamnit let me go!" He was screaming - he could hear his voice but it made no sense to him, his hands were tied and they still jumped back nervously as he snarled at them, jerking his head to try and get to them. He struggled desperately against them but he was surrounded, pinned down, too many hands, fists all flying around.
"Gentle with him." The head guy was talking again in that plummy voice of his. Spike wanted to rip his vocal cords out. "She will want this one intact. After all he can't tell us who the key is if he is dead."
"Key?" Spike repeated as the words filtered in. For the first time panic for himself set in as he realised these guys were going to take him to the bitch herself. "I don't know who the key is I ..."
Something was shoved into his mouth muffling his protests, and they dragged him out. He tried to yell out for Xander, still lying on the floor, but could barely make a sound, barely move against the rope that was cutting into his wrists and their hands digging into his skin.
Terror began to rise in him. However much he fought it wouldn't do him any good. He was going to Glory.
Continued in the next part
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