Spike watched impassively as Oz slowly climbed to his feet. "Nice hair," he commented wryly.

Oz nodded. "I was thinking of going with green, but I didn't want to do anything too drastic," he answered seriously.

"Good planning." Spike watched as the werewolf checked himself over to make sure nothing was out of place. "So what are you doing here?"

"I help out here sometimes. You?" Oz cocked his head, leaning closer to the vampire and sniffing. "You smell like...why do you smell like Xander?"

Spike spun around at the loud crashes that suddenly came from the room he'd been pacing outside of. He could hear Xander's panicked breathing, and thought nothing of storming the door, his only thought to get rid of whatever was scaring his human.

He snarled at the sight that met his eyes.

Xander was standing near a counter, holding a glass container threateningly, face red with anger and fear. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!" He threw the container, which smashed spectacularly on the far wall as Dr. Fredericks ducked.

"What the hell?" Spike muttered.

Stumbling back, Xander knocked a few more things to the floor. His back hit a wall, and he leaned against it on trembling legs. "I hate you," he moaned softly. "Why'd you do that to me? I hate you. Don't touch me any more." His knees gave out, and he sank to the floor, huddling there surrounded by broken glass.

Spike hissed at the doctor, then stepped through the glinting mess to gather Xander into his arms. He never noticed Oz following him into the room, eyebrows lifted in what for him was an obvious display of curiosity.

"Xan? Luv, what happened? Did he hurt you?"

Xander just whimpered and buried his head in Spike's shirt.

Spike rounded on the doctor, eyes gleaming. "What the fuck did you do to him?" he demanded harshly.

Dr. Fredericks remained calm, righting his chair and nonchalantly brushing some glass shards off it. "I merely tried to determine how well his injuries were healing, and he...preferred that I didn't." He sat. "If you'd rather, I could give him something to calm him down, but I need to finish the examination."

Spike growled softly. At Xander's tremulous words, he quieted and stared intently at the boy.

"Don't want him touching me there. Why did he do that to me? I was good. Wasn't I good? He shouldn't touch me like that, it's bad to touch me like that." Xander sniffled, tears leaking down his cheeks as he looked up at Spike with glazed eyes. "It hurts. Why did he hurt me? I was bad, I made him hurt me. I'm so bad."

"No, pet. You're not bad. You were good; he's the one who was bad. He can't hurt you any more, ok?"

"I wanted him to," Xander continued to whisper, oblivious to Spike's reassurances. "He said I wanted him to. He made me like it sometimes. I didn't want to like it. Why did I like it? It hurts."

Spike was at a loss for an answer. He knew Xander hadn't truly enjoyed whatever his prick of a father had done to him, but the man had obviously enjoyed playing head games with the impressionable boy, and it his lessons had apparently stuck.

Oz had been listening to this exchange, unnoticed by the other occupants of the room. From what he'd heard, it was clear to him why Xander was here. He slowly moved closer, crouching in front of the entwined pair. "Xander. Xander, look at me." He waited until reddened eyes lifted to peer at him. "Xander, it wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. You did not enjoy what he did to you. The human body has strange ways of coping with things, and you had no control over your reactions. The doctor here only wants to help. Ok? Can you let him help you?"

Xander swallowed, then nodded hesitantly. "But why'd he do it?" he asked in a small voice filled with confusion. "I told him to stop, and he never would."

"Because he's a sick man, Xander. But he can't hurt you any more. Spike won't let him." He knew this was true because he'd finally realized what was so strange about Spike's scent, having noticed the same oddity about Xander's. It wasn't strong, but it was most definitely there. For some reason, the vampire had laid claim to this human.

Xander took a deep, wavering breath, turning his gaze from Oz to Spike. He searched his face intently, seemingly reassured by what he saw there. Then he took in the state of the room, blushing. "Sorry," he muttered in the doctor's general direction.

"That's quite all right. Can I continue now?" He waited for Spike to lead the boy back over to the exam table, hoping the boy's sudden movements hadn't torn or otherwise re-injured anything.

"Can...can Spike stay with me this time?" Xander whispered.

Spike just leveled a look at Dr. Fredericks that clearly challenged the man to even try ejecting him from the room again. The good doctor decided not to take him up on that. "Certainly," he replied blandly.

Oz took this as his cue to leave, and he slipped out of the room. He didn't go far, however. He merely slouched against the opposite wall, hands tucked neatly in his pants. Xander was a friend of his, and he was curious about this seemingly new development between him and the blonde vampire. Last he'd heard, Spike was pretty much on the outs with the Scoobies.

Not that he was kept in the know about the inner workings of 'Slayer and company' these days. Still, this was a major change...at least he thought so. Then again, it seemed he didn't know quite as much about Xander's life as he assumed he did, considering the little drama that had just taken place.

//How come I never realized something was going on with him? I should have been able to tell.// He cut that train of thought off before he could get too involved with self-pity.

And now...well, he had planned on keeping his return to Sunnydale quiet, but events were beyond his control at this point. All he could do was deal with the now.

He straightened when the door opened, and Spike helped a trembling Xander out, maneuvering their bodies in such a way as to be carrying the bulk of the human's weight.

Dr. Fredericks followed them out, laying a hand on Oz's shoulder and giving him a quiet 'Thank you' before moving off.

Oz followed the two out to the waiting room, where Spike gently but firmly seated Xander and went in search of a drink for the pale boy. The werewolf caught Spike in the hall on his way back in. "How is he?"

Spike stared at him appraisingly before answering. "Better. He'll be sore for a while yet, but the doc figures he's not in much danger from infection any more."

Oz nodded. "Who was it?"

Spike's jaw clenched, and he stared fixedly at a point somewhere over Oz's left shoulder. "Not my story to tell, mate."

He gave another nod of acknowledgement. "Need help killing him?"

This earned him a snort. "Nah, I'll take care of 'im when the time's right. Want that pleasure for myself."

"Fair enough." Oz cocked his head. "What about the others? Why aren't they here?"

The sound of teeth grinding was audible. "They don't have a clue about anything," Spike gritted out. "An' it's gonna stay that way!"

"Won't be easy. You'll be hiding from a Slayer, some witches, that military guy, and you really don't want to see Giles pissed. Not a pretty sight."

"Yeah, well, guess we'll just have to do a good job hiding. I *won't* let him be hurt again. Not by them, not by *anyone*."

Oz drummed his fingers against his arm. "You know, Willow's gotten pretty good at the spell thing. She could probably find you no matter where you went."

Spike swore softly, not having considered this before. The idea of using spells to hunt with was foreign to him, and he wasn't quite sure how he would deal with it.

"Where are you staying?"

The question broke into his musings, and Spike shrugged. "Dunno. Ditched the hotel earlier, figured we'd find someplace else tonight."

"Hm. How's this; I have an apartment nearby, not huge but it has a couple bedrooms. You guys could crash with me until you find something else." Oz glanced back at Xander, who didn't seem to have moved an inch. "He looks like he could use some downtime. And soon."

Spike frowned. "Why would you want to help us?"

Oz shrugged coolly. "Why not?"

"Uh-huh." Spike studied the slight man. "Doesn't solve the witch problem."

An uncharacteristic grin appeared on Oz's face, and he held out his hand. "See this?" He indicated the woven charm circling his wrist. "Got it from an...acquaintance. It distorts your aura so scrying spells can't find you. Like static, only magical."

Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Do tell. And why would you be sporting such a fascinating bit of frippery?"

"Let's just say, you're not the only one who wants to lay low right now. Point is, I have a couple extra of these, if you guys each want one."

The vampire nodded. "Ta, mate."

"Let's get to it, then. You parked out back?" At Spike's nod, he continued, "I'll bring my van around, and you can follow me over to my place. Cool?"

Spike jerked his head in acknowledgement, then moved away to give Xander the glass of water he'd gotten.

*****