Fiction by Lorraine

icon by sukibluefiction

Xander paced nervously in the apartment. The past few days had been truly hellacious. Buffy had stayed holed up in her room, and Willow, Giles, and Dawn had hovered outside, trying to help and failing. Xander had had his hands full with Spike. When he was awake, the vampire was cranky and vaguely suicidal; when he was sleeping, Spike’s nightmares were horrific. More than once, Xander had actually had to climb into the bed with Spike and physically restrain him until the vampire quieted. Last night, he had fallen asleep with Spike’s head on his chest. He woke midmorning, Spike’s legs wrapped around his own, the vampire’s arm flung across his upper body. Xander’s arm, the one that wasn’t asleep, was resting lightly on the small of Spike’s back. Xander had let himself imagine for a while that they’d ended up this way for reasons more enjoyable than last night’s round of preserve-the-Spike, then carefully had extricated himself from the sleeping vampire’s embrace. When he woke, Spike hadn’t mentioned the previous night’s sleeping arrangements. Xander didn’t think he even knew.

At the moment, Spike was at Buffy’s house, talking to the Slayer. Giles had called a few hours before and told Xander that Buffy was ready to talk to Spike. Spike had immediately gone out into the night. Before he left, he’d asked Xander not to come. He said, “You’ve been so good to me, Xander. Stood up for me when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t want you to hear this. Just wait for me here, okay?”

Xander sighed. Why did I give in? I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on. Willow’s spell will keep Spike alive, but what if he comes back in worse mental shape than when he left? What if he doesn’t come back at all? Xander could see Spike on the freeway, the Welcome to Sunnydale sign getting smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror. Xander tried to distract himself with television, but Charmed just wasn’t as entertaining without Spike’s running commentary. He barely noticed the new depths of sluttiness to which Phoebe’s wardrobe had descended; he was too busy watching the clock. When the door to the apartment finally swung open, Xander was so wired, he jumped.

Spike looked more relaxed than Xander had seen him since that night in the Magic Shop. Xander could tell he had been crying, but his expression was lucid, almost peaceful. “Well?” Xander blurted.

Spike sat on the couch. “We talked. Or mostly she did. The Watcher and the witch sat outside the door and listened the whole time. They’d shipped Dawn off to Janice’s.” Spike caught Xander’s look and quickly said, “Listen, mate, I don’t wanna talk about it. We worked some things out between us. Slayer’s not gonna be throwing me parties any time soon, but she won’t be trying to decapitate me, either.” Spike paused. The credits to Charmed rolled on the TV. Somewhere, outside, a car alarm sounded. Then he said simply, “She forgave me.”

Xander resisted the urge to give Spike a hug. He was so relieved. He knew that things wouldn’t instantly change between Buffy and the vampire. They might not ever be anything but distant and civil with each other. But Spike is staying. With me. Or, not with me. But here, in Sunnydale, in this apartment.

Spike called over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. “What in bloody hell was Phoebe wearing this episode? Looked like she had a string a dead squirrels round her waist. Ya think UPN could afford to put her in something with sleeves at least once a season.”

Xander grinned.

***

Xander winced as a headstone conveniently, and painfully, broke his fall, and then swiftly punched his stake right into the newly risen vampire’s heart. He coughed as the dust settled around him and glared up at his patrolling partner. “Spike, you didn’t even help me.” He accepted the vampire’s hand up.

“Didn’t need my help, mate. ‘Sides, you were having fun.”

“Oh, yes, Spike. I just love breaking masonry with my body. It’s why I stayed on the Hellmouth all these years.” Xander rolled his eyes and fell into step with Spike. He watched Spike walking out of the corner of his eye. The shorter man constantly surveyed the area around them, looking for anything dangerous. Spike tossed a stake lightly in his fingertips and softly hummed the guitar riff to “Bodies.” Xander almost wished something nasty would jump out of the shadows so he could watch Spike fight it. Spike looked so alive when he was killing something. He always had the tiniest little smile on his face, the easy confidence with which he moved belying his strength. And if he actually had to work for the kill, Spike would pant for breath he didn’t need; the smile would disappear and his eyes narrow in concentration. All the angles in his lean body would sharpen, and Xander would think, every time, Spike is beautiful. Xander sighed internally. Spike is so fucking cool, and I am the eternal Zeppo. Adam Sessler to his Morgan Webb. Spike is so completely out of my league.

Suddenly, the earth beneath them began to move. Xander would’ve fallen to the ground as it pitched under him, if Spike hadn’t caught his elbow. They fell eventually anyway as the earthquake increased in intensity. Xander paused to notice, in the moments before he was sure the ground would swallow him whole, that Spike had wrapped his arms around him in an effort to protect his human friend’s more frail body. Xander nearly smiled. I should just go now, he thought, wrapped in vampirey-goodness. Then slowly, the earth stopped shaking, trembling a few times more until it settled.

To Xander’s surprise, Spike didn’t relinquish his grip. Xander lifted his head from where he’d buried it in Spike’s shoulder. Spike gently brushed a leaf from Xander’s cheek and leaned into the younger man’s body. The vampire looked as if he wanted to say something very important but couldn’t find the words. Xander’s heart raced. Spike was holding him, embracing him, really. Spike slowly began to lower his head until their lips were almost touching. Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up, Xander thought, panicking; he was afraid that if he looked directly into those blue eyes, the Xanderbabble would overtake him and ruin whatever was about to happen, so he stared instead at a patch of sky directly behind Spike’s head.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered. The stars all looked wrong, somehow—red.

“What?” Spike jerked back and frowned, until he turned to look at the sky behind him. “That’s bloody weird. What the hell d’you suppose it is?”

“The apocalypse. What else?”

***

“We have to get to the Hellmouth. Now.” Buffy loaded more weapons into her bag. Dawn grabbed an axe from the cache of weapons, which Buffy promptly snatched from her. “Dawn, you are not a part of this. You are staying right here where it’s safe.”

Xander watched the young girl wrest the axe back from her sister and speak furiously. “I am so a part of this. You know I can help you. I’m not staying here.”

Buffy threw her hands up in the air. “Fine—but I’m burning all your Avril Lavigne CDs when you’re dead.” The interplay was so familiar, Xander could almost forget it was the end of the world again and pretend that the siblings were fighting about clothes or Dawn’s questionable taste in the opposite sex.

“I wish we had some clue what was about to happen.” Willow looked incredibly nervous.

Xander said, “Willow, you’re like the most powerful witch of all time. If Buffy doesn’t slay it and Spike doesn’t smash it and I don’t damage myself on it, I have every faith that you can make it go poof.”

Everyone was smiling, even Spike. Xander loved these moments of peace before the storm. They were when he felt most useful. He would never match Buffy or Spike’s physical prowess, Willow’s magic, or Giles’ intelligence, but he could always make them laugh. He was the heart of this group. They’d done a spell once to prove it, and Xander took his responsibility seriously.

Spike was leaning up against the doorframe, nodding at something Dawn was whispering in his ear. Xander wished that he and Spike had had just five more minutes in the cemetery before all Hell broke loose, literally. Xander knew he was probably misreading the situation, but he could almost believe that Spike had been about to kiss him.

***

Xander gripped his sword more tightly. He scooted imperceptibly closer to Spike as they stood outside the basement door to the Hellmouth. The air felt heavy and thick with magic. Buffy cautiously opened the door to reveal . . . nothing. No army, no hordes of minions, just the seal visible on the floor. Xander looked questioningly at Buffy.

“We wait,” she pronounced.

Xander sat next to Spike against the wall. The vampire lit a cigarette and threw the empty pack on the Hellmouth seal. Almost imperceptibly, the arms of the seal began to peel back.

Spike jumped to his feet. “Oh, bloody hell. I didn’t do that. Sodding thing only opens for blood. Why’s it doing that, Watcher?”

“I don’t know, Spike. Perhaps littering on the gates of Hell is not such a brilliant idea,” Giles shot back.

“I do. Know why, I mean,” Willow said. “That demon said the stars would bleed after the earthquake. They must be letting off some mystical energy that allows the Hellmouth to open. If that’s the case, I think I can create a magical dampening field around the seal. It should block the flow of energy and close it down.”

Willow ran to the farthest corner of the basement room, dropping on her knees and drawing a magic circle in the dust around her. Giles and Dawn followed. They each took up a position between Willow and the Hellmouth. The air around Willow crackled with energy, and her eyes turned black and alien. Xander barely had time to think, She looks just like Goku powering up for a spirit bomb, before two demons had jumped from the Hellmouth, the last one losing a chunk of his heel as the seal snapped back down. Spike and Buffy immediately surrounded the pair of nasties, but one broke free and headed straight for Xander with surprising speed. Xander raised his sword in attack, and the demon immediately wrenched the weapon from his hands.

The young man felt a sharp pain in his side as the demon pushed him forward to his knees. “Oh, crap,” he said aloud. “It stabbed me with my own sword. Typical.” Xander fell on his side, moaning at the impact. From this vantage point, he could see the entire fight. Buffy was grappling with the other demon who’d managed to escape the Hellmouth before Willow closed it. Giles and Dawn were pulling Willow to her feet. The witch looked exhausted and could barely stand, even with their aid. And Spike was skewering Xander’s attacker on Xander’s sword. “Oh, good, Spike,” Xander gasped. He wanted to say something funny, but he could barely breathe. He could hear a terrible rattling sound in his chest.

Spike knelt down beside Xander and took the younger man’s hand in his own. “Don’t try to talk, okay? You’re gonna be fine. Doctor’ll fix you right up.” Spike lifted Xander into his arms as if he weighed nothing at all. Xander cried out in pain and closed his eyes. He could feel something warm and metallic welling up in his mouth that he really hoped wasn’t blood.

“Xander, Xander! Open your eyes. Come on, look at me. Please. Xander, I’m so sorry I didn’t get here in time. Xander, open your eyes!” Spike was calling his name, but he didn’t think he’d answer. It seemed like too much effort.

“Buffy, fucking kill the thing already! Xander . . . Xander’s dying. I don’t think he can make it to a hospital.” Spike sounds like he’s crying, Xander thought distractedly. And then Xander’s neck was wet with Spike’s tears; they pooled in the hollow of his throat and soaked through the cotton of his shirt. Hey, he thought bleakly, I really am going to go wrapped in vampirey-goodness.

Xander could barely feel his body anymore; he felt as if he were floating above himself. He heard Dawn screaming, and then—nothing.

Part Six