lusciousxander: (grabby hands by Moscow_Watcher)
[personal profile] lusciousxander
Fic: Teenage Dirtbag
Author: [livejournal.com profile] lusciousxander
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG 13
Setting: Starts during Lover’s Walk, S3. Spike's POV throughout.
Summary: Halfrek gives Spike the curse that will change his entire life.
Note: This fic is written for the Reviving Spander Ficathon.

Super thanks to [livejournal.com profile] devo79 for being my awesome beta.


Previous Chapters






Part 23





Made by Tickyboxes








Heartbeats are everywhere. Ticking hearts going at a different time, different speed, never stops. Not even the strong smell of antiseptics can quell all the thudding. It used to be a blessing not to hear them. To be ignorant of it all, the piercing wails of a child, the frustration gliding out of the mother dragging a dozen children with drumming hearts into the white hall soaked in the stench of synthetic clean death.

It’s not just the heartbeats doing my head in, the blood flowing through veins, rich and inviting, echoes hard in my ears. Sounds and smells, sharper and more pronounced, striking from every side.

The hunger grows within me. Surging blood from each grief-struck face calling out for me. My tongue presses against my fang, sharp and ready.

I shake my head. Xander is being treated in the room before me. Can’t think about feeding when Xander is in there. Hurt and insentient.

An alluring smell tickles my nose. Blood. Human blood in bags. The nurse stops the medical cart very close to me. One of the impatient patients is demanding to be let in. Eyes caught on the rich red inside the plastic bags. With a speed I forgot I used to have, I snatch one of the bags and try not to crush it inside my pocket.

Gentle, Spike, you don’t want to stain your beloved duster.

A familiar scent is approaching. Willow stops in her tracks with an eep when she sees me. “Spike,” she squeaks in anxiety. “You’re still here.”

“Xander isn’t out yet.” Her mouth hangs at my answer. What she expects? ‘Course, I’ll still be here. “Where were you?”

“Me? Nowhere. Surely not calling anyone. Nope.”

“You called Buffy?”

“I… I…”

“Good thinking.” I look back at the white door in front of me. Won’t be bad to have the whole gang present when Xander wakes up.

Willow’s pounding heartbeats slow down, and I notice the confusion in her features. “What is it?” My gentle question makes her twice as confused.

“You’re different.” She keeps her distance, but the strong waves of fear within her have diminished. “One minute you were all grrr and holding broken glass to my face. Then you rushed us to the hospital. Like you… like you care about Xander.”

“I do.” There’s doubt, it’s terrifying how I can sense it. Not just from Willow. Blood flows at a different speed from one person to the other. Waves of different emotions have a distinctive smell without having an actual scent. How did I get used to this? Too much is going on at once. Strange how it hasn’t driven me mad already.

“When did that happen?” Willow asks with genuine curiosity. “It was you who did that to him.”

I feel a hint of a smile. She’s always been the most open-minded and willing to hear the other side out.

I slip onto a chair and stare down at my ethereal pale hands. They’re too white it’s sidetracking and unnatural. It was just a few hours ago when these hands were tanned with color, pulsed with life instead of power. My pale hands can crush a rock in a blink of an eye, strong and malicious to break a vase on Xander’s head instead of the gentle warmth that wrapped gauze on his slit wrists.

“I was sent into an alternate dimension for months. Xander and I were friends there.”

Willow appears to have felt the sadness in my words. She sits next to me, just a faint hint of fear overshadowed by kindness.

“When were you sent there?”

“You won’t remember. A demon appeared at the factory and punished me for...” I give a shrug. She nods and glances at Xander’s door. “Now I’m back,” it rolls out of my mouth with more resentment than intended.

“Because your punishment is over,” Willow says with a skeptical tone, not naïve as I expected.

“No. It just begun.” With a heavy heart – useless unbeaten heart – I remember it all; the family and friends, the future wide open with possibilities gone forever by a wisp of words.

Buffy is here. Can sense her powerful presence, another set of frantic heartbeats on tail, and his stench as well.

“Willow,” Buffy and Oz yell in union when they see her sitting next to me. She rushes to her boyfriend’s arms and they embrace in happy relief.

I don’t have time to dwell on it with hunk boy looming over me. “What’s he doing here?” he hisses and puffs up his manly chest.

“Where’s Xander?” Cordelia grabs Willow’s shoulders and tries shaking the answer out of her.

“Still inside,” Willow yelps, slipping out of Cordelia’s grip. “The doctor said it won’t take long.”

“You!” Shrill voice and angry eyes, Cordelia stalks towards me and pokes a perfectly sharpened nail in my chest. “What have you done to my boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend?” They haven’t been caught, Xander and Willow, Cordelia still sees him as old faithful.

“Tell me you haven’t cut off his droopy ears! Did you set his floppy hair on fire? Did you break his boney elbow?”

My mouth hangs open slightly. “I… uh, smashed a vase to his head.”

Her eyes almost bulge out. “With the few brain cells he has, are you nuts?”

“Do you even like him?” I exclaim in amusement.

Angel steps between us, his squinting eyes bore holes right through me. “Spike, you better get out.”

“No. No.” Buffy walks into my personal space and we almost bump noses. “I’m not gonna let him get away again. I brought my special stake for this.”

Angel pulls her aside. “Buffy, there are so many people around.”

The family drama is interrupted by the doctor showing his face out of Xander’s room. Cordelia pushes Angel and Buffy out of her way and stands before the doctor. “How’s he? Can I see him?”

“He’s still unconscious. But it won’t be a bad idea for him to wake up around his friends.”

Cordelia dashes inside like a flash, exactly what I’m about to do… before Buffy bumps noses with me again. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Willow takes hold of her arm. “Buffy, Spike brought us here.”

“Your point? He kidnapped you and hurt Xander.”

Willow glances between me and her, her face sympathetic and uncertain at the same time. “Yeah, but he’s kinda changed.”

“Changed? How?”

I throw a fleeting look at Xander’s room through the ajar door. Cordelia is in there, clutching Xander’s hand to her chest, staring down at his unresponsive face with fear and concern.

She loves him, the weight of that realization bore down on me like a merciless draught. I find myself leaving the hospital as Buffy and Willow argue over my intentions.


~*~*~*~




My feet dragged me there, couldn’t stop them, didn’t want to. He’ll stake me on the spot. He won’t spare a glance. I’m not his son. He doesn’t have one here.

Here I am, standing before Rupert Giles’ house with a death wish. I sniff the air, none of the familiar smells are there. It’s too late at night. He probably finished eating his supper now.

Forming a tentative fist, I knock on his door and wait… maybe just for a second I can pretend that things haven’t changed. That I still have a room in there, that my dinner is waiting for me inside the oven, that his eyes will twinkle at the sight of me and he’ll yell at me for coming home late.

The door opens and I brace myself, but instead of Rupert, a man I’ve never seen glares at me.

“Is Rupert Giles here?” I ask with a strange feeling in my gut. Who the hell is this bloke? This is our flat, I’m sure.

“Who?” he grunts in annoyance, scratching his scruffy head.

“This isn’t Rupert Giles’ home?”

“No.”

I throw a glance inside. That’s our home… looks like it, the couch is different… he… doesn’t live here in this reality?

“My mistake. Sorry.” I walk away, with a sinking feeling inside. Right. Why would Rupert get a two bedroom flat when he doesn’t have a son? He probably lives somewhere else. Come to think of it, Rupert wasn’t with the others when they arrived to the hospital. Did something happen to him? Does Buffy know he’s in trouble? Shouldn’t she do something?

Maybe I should look for him…

Maybe not, a voice inside growls, I’m a vampire now, not one of them. Time to face the bloody music. I’m back in my old pale skin.

I’m a monster.




~*~*~*~






Xander’s back home. I can hear the faint rhythmic beat of his heart through the closed window of his bedroom. His parents aren’t arguing tonight. Good. Let the boy rest some.

I watch him sleeping and note he differences between him and my boy. They look exactly the same on the outside, but this one hasn’t really been through half of what the other went through. I don’t suspect he will since Cordelia hasn’t caught him cheating.

His heartbeats quicken. He’s about to wake up. I watch with anticipation as his eyelids slip open, fluttering slightly, then he notices me standing outside of his window.

Our eyes lock for a moment. His heart begins drumming in panic. He flings the cover away and approaches the window. Hope swells within me, he’s right in front of me, a thick gauze pad strapped to his head. Nothing separates us bar the glass of his window.

But his hazel eyes aren’t welcoming. There’s hatred and fear and none of the usual friendly merriment. He snaps his window curtains shut, and it’s then when I realize, everything has changed. Can’t start all over, especially since I had it easy there, I was one of them, loved and wanted.

Heart thick with loss and sorrow grows heavier just as the dark sky begins to pale. Perched on his house’s wooden fence, I light a fag and inhale the bitter taste in. Smoke dances about the air and then dissipates into the cool atmosphere.

After everything that happened, it’s hard to go back. Nothing seems to matter anymore, neither here nor there. My eyes are captured by the thin orange veil in the far horizon, watching it break through the lightened dark color of the sky.

“You’re still here?” Xander’s voice drifts from behind. He’s standing at the front door of his house in striped pajamas – the same ones I woke up in as William Giles – so close to the door, not a step further. “Taking stalking tips from the king of stalking himself?”

I try not to growl when he compared me to Angel. “Wanted to see for myself that you’re safe and sound.”

“Because we’re the bestest of buds?” said with a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We actually were,” low and wistful, desolate and full of yearning, but it passes through his head unnoticed.

“Right. The parallel universe thing. Willow told me all about it. You may fool her, but not me. I know this is one of your scams to finish off Buffy’s friends one by one.”

“That’s Angel’s game. Not mine. I go straight for the prey.” I can see the cynicism in his eyes even when he’s standing far away from me.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Told you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A small smile unfurls, the fag in my lips almost slips to the ground. “Yeah, mate, you have to work on your trust issues. They’ll hold you back.”

He takes a step back. “They keep me safe.”

“They may drive the people who care about you away.”

“You mean like you?”

It was unbearable. The intense hammering of his heart, the thick waves of fear, and the way he stares at me. I give him my back and light another fag, inhaling deeply as the tip flares an angry red.

“You know, the sun’s about to come up,” he says with a surprising uncertainty.

The crisp morning air, heavy with dew, crackles from the grass underneath. My heart rests with ease, unfazed by the dark sky losing its ink, showing the faintest traces of blue.

“So you’re gonna stay there?” The increasing level of uncertainty curls up my lips.

“Are you inviting me in?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Of course, you’re not.” I take another drag and let the smoke out through my nose. Interesting how smoking gives a calming effect, should have done more of that as a living boy, but Rupert wouldn’t have allowed that.

“Seriously, you’re just gonna sit there.”

Rupert did run a tight ship in that flat, didn’t he? He never minded a sip or two of his Whiskey, but an innocent ‘you got a snout, pop?’ sent him off the rails.

“Guess your time as human boy made you forget. Sun and vamps? Not so mixy.”

“Why do you care?” I shake my head at the endless brattle until I realize Xander is half way across the front yard. He jumps back when my eyes focus on him.

“I don’t,” he gives away, heart beating fast. “Just questioning your sanity.”

He’s out in the yard. He would have been standing next to me if I hadn’t looked over my shoulder. “You think I should hide for cover? Somewhere close.”

He holds up his hands. “Not my house?”

“Think Jesse’s treehouse would do? It’s a block ahead.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Told you, we were friends.”

He stares at me in shock, the truth finally dawns on him. I feel a glint of hope when he takes a step forwards. There he comes, getting closer, can hear his blood pumping through his veins. Rich and ripe pulsing with life. My mouth dries at the sight of his exposed neck, that familiar feeling that strikes when the odor of Rupert’s cooking fills the air. Budding thirst subdues, fangs sharp and willing…

“Don’t,” I bark, jumping off the fence, the cigarette falling to the grass.

Xander freezes in place.

I’m out of his sight, vampire speed to my advantage, overwhelmed with what just happened over there. That overpowering thirst, so strong and dangerous, can’t control it.

Even if he does learn to trust me, I don’t think I can trust myself around him.

Not when he has all that blood flowing in his veins.

I’m a vampire. He’s food.

It’s hopeless.



~*~*~*~*



Part 24 will be posted soon.
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